Heat surged to my cheeks, and my head went down. Lonely? I was missing Mason, but to hear it said out loud was embarrassing.

“I wasn’t. I didn’t.” Jackson shifted towards me. “Sam?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t told Mason yet, and I wasn’t going to tell Logan first. “Stop it, Logan. I told you last night. I know Jackson. We were talking about Jeff. My ex. His cousin. Remember him? He worshiped you last year.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. When he shot me a look, I knew he was saving it for when Jackson left. I sighed on the inside. Oh joy for that conversation. As if sensing the same thing, Jackson said, “Well. I suppose I should go. It was nice running into you, Sam.” He jerked his head in a nod. “Kade.”

“Jackass.” Logan nodded back, his reply monotone.

Pausing, Jackson glanced back at me, then pressed his mouth in a flat line and lifted his hand in a small wave. “See ya, Sam.”

We waited as he went to his car and pulled out of the lot. As soon as it turned onto the road, Logan gave me an incredulous look. “Sam? What the fuck?”

“We have history.” I shut him up with that.

“What?”

I cursed at myself. Why had I said that? “Look, he was nice to me one night when Jeff was being his usual asshole self. You don’t have to worry about anything. Trust me. I’m not even friends with him, but I’m not going to ignore him.”

He snorted. “You’ve been smelling Malinda’s perfume too much. It’s gotten in your head if you think that guy doesn’t want, at least, friendship.” He pointed to where Jackson left. “He wants way more than friendship.”

“Logan,” I didn’t want to argue, “what are you doing here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Okay. That’s my cue to let it drop, but I’m telling you. That guy’s going to be ‘around’ a lot more than you think.” He lifted his fingers to form quotations in the air. “And I know the dude knew you worked today. Mark told me he was asking about you at the party last night.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He gestured to Manny’s. “I came to hackle you while you worked. You’re not working?”

“They don’t need me today.”

“I see. Is Jax in there?”

I shook my head. “She’s with Channing.” And because I remembered that I hadn’t squared things away from last night, I added, “Hey, don’t give her a hard time the next time you see her.”

“What do you mean?”

“About last night. She was stalling you. I wanted to talk to Jack—”

“Jackass.”

I kept going, “—son last night. She doesn’t have a problem with Kris. She was just having my back last night.”

I expected a smartass response back, something derogatory about Heather, or maybe a cocky remark about Kris. I got silence instead. “What’s wrong?”

Logan continued to stare at me, long and hard. He was dressed in a long-sleeve shirt. A slight breeze sped past us, plastering his shirt against his torso, but he didn’t move. He continued to stare at me. His dark hair moved in the sudden rush of air. He kept staring. His hands slid back into his jean pockets, outlining his lean frame and broad shoulders.

“Logan?”

He murmured, his voice low and grave, “There’s about three things wrong with your last statement.”

My mouth went dry. Oh shit.

He moved closer one step. His hands remained in his pockets, and he looked down his nose at me. He would’ve been intimidating to anyone else. I wasn’t anyone else. I was family. Holding my breath, I waited to see what he was going to throw at me.

He lifted a finger. “One. You lied to me.”

“I didn’t.”

A second finger uncurled up. “Two. You had someone else lie to me.”

I kept quiet and just waited for him to finish.

A third finger. “Three. Someone else was in the know, not me.”

“Logan—”

“Not me,” he repeated, a flash of anger filling his eyes. “Not me, Sam. You put Heather above me. We’re family. You shouldn’t put anyone above me except Mason.” He shook his head, so slowly. “I know you’re dealing with something, and I’ve tried being patient. Mase keeps telling me to be patient, but it’s starting to piss me off. If we’re no longer family, maybe you should let me fucking know.”

“Logan—” The word cut off in my throat. He shook his head and turned away. “Logan.”

Instead of answering, he went to his Escalade.

“Logan!”

He didn’t answer. He got inside and pulled out of the parking lot within seconds.

Well…fuck me.

MASON

A week later

“Kade.” Drew signaled to get my attention, but I barely heard him. I couldn’t hear much except the music. We were at Cliché, on the private football floor. A huge group had congregated to celebrate the end of exams. There were others from school, and I recognized a couple girls from our class, but I was there for only one reason. I needed to make sure my roommate didn’t get too plastered. Ten a.m. practice was going to come too damn early.

Drew waved again, mouthing my name once more, so I slid out of the booth and rounded it on the other side. As I sat down next to him, I watched Matteo dance. He wore a white, unbuttoned shirt. His bare chest was solid muscle, but his stomach ended with a fat roll hanging over his jeans. Grinning, sweat rolling down his face, he rubbed a brisk hand over his bald head. He placed one hand on his hip, pointed at us, and yelled, “FOR YOU, GUYS!” With his hand still raised to us, he took a dramatic step, turning so his ass was facing us. With his hand up, he started pointing at the others around him, keeping in rhythm with the music. At the same time, the deejay suddenly switched the song. Loud bass slammed through the speakers. It sent a wave of energy through the crowd and everyone started dancing harder. As this happened, Matteo glanced over his shoulder at us, winked, and bent low. His ass stayed up, and he began twerking.

“Oh my god.” Drew looked down. His shoulders lifted as he began laughing, shaking his head at the same time. “Only Matteo.”

“Mason!” Matteo yelled again. He had moved closer to us. A small ring of people continued to surround him, but there was an opening for us. “Roommate pay per view.” As he shouted each word, his ass twerked up and down. The bass in the song changed again, speeding up, and Matteo stopped shouting. He kept going, matching the fast pace of the song.