“It wasn’t very good,” he added.
He patted her arm when she smiled him in relief.
“I’m lying,” he said. “It was the best thing that had ever happened to me at the time. For a teenage boy, every waking and sleeping moment is spent thinking about sex.” He rubbed his lips together and scowled at her. “Oh. That’s why this feels familiar.”
“Why what feels familiar?”
“Being with you. It’s like I’m a horny, lovesick teenager all over again. The only difference is now I know what to do with you.”
Of course she fixated on his using the word lovesick. Of course. She immediately chastised herself for being so fricking desperate for any mention of love when she knew damned well that he was referring to sex and only sex.
“That makes one of us,” she said.
He frowned. “I don’t make you feel like a horny, lovesick teenager?”
Yeah, he did. “I mean I don’t know what to do with you.”
“You’re doing far better than you realize, babe. If you just want to lay there while I rut all over you, I’d be perfectly okay with that, you know?”
“Wouldn’t that be boring?”
He laughed. “After a few years.”
Now that she had him off guard—maybe—she could ask him a more important question. “So why do you hate your brother?”
“I don’t really hate him. I just don’t see him as part of my life anymore.”
“Did he commit a horrible crime or something?” Toni’s reporter senses were tingling. There was an important story here, she just knew it.
“He’s not in jail, if that’s what you’re asking.” Logan shrugged. “I’ve lost track of him, to be honest. We haven’t spoken in over a year.”
“What did he do?” Toni leaned close and squeezed his knee. “I’m dying to know.”
“Nothing. During my parents’ divorce they split everything fifty-fifty. Including their children. I lived with my father, and my brother with my mother. We were supposed to continue with weekly visitations, but my mom got remarried and moved to another state.”
“So you never saw them after that?” Toni asked, sweeping a curl from his forehead so she could peer into his troubled gaze.
“I wouldn’t say never. I did stay with them for a couple of weeks each summer, and I celebrated the occasional holiday with them, but it was obvious I’d been replaced.”
“Replaced?”
“My mom’s new husband had a son from his previous marriage. And while Daniel and I—Daniel’s my brother—never got along and were always arguing and getting into scrapes, his new brother, Ray, quickly became his best friend. They did everything together. They never argued. Never fought. They just lived together as brothers. His stepbrother obviously meant more to him than his real brother did. I never felt like part of their little family when I visited. Not even with my mom. When she picked up and moved on from my dad, she moved on from me too.”
Toni’s lower lip trembled, and she sucked it into her mouth.
“Don’t cry,” Logan demanded.
She shook her head, knowing that if she spoke, she’d be bawling like a baby. Since she was too emotional to offer words of comfort, she hugged him fiercely. At first he merely tolerated her embrace, but after a moment his arms went around her and he hugged her back. She melted against him, breathing in his scent, absorbing his warmth, cherishing his strength and the glimpse of his weakness.
“At least you still had your dad,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “Good ol’ Dad.”
Toni pulled away slightly so she could see Logan’s expression. He smiled wryly.
“He didn’t beat me or anything,” he said, “so don’t look so tragic. He made sure I was clothed and fed, that someone got me to ball practice and trumpet lessons, but he wasn’t what one would call affectionate.”
“And he never remarried?”
He shook his head. “Nope. He had a revolving door to his bedroom when he was married to my mother, and it got even more use after they split. I didn’t realize what was going on until I was older.”
Toni cringed. She had no idea what he was suggesting. “What do you mean his bedroom door revolved?”
He laughed and patted her head. “Because there were so many different women going through it.”
“Oh. So the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”
Logan gaped at her as if she’d slapped him.
“I’m not like him,” he said, scooting back on the sectional so they were no longer touching.
She lifted an eyebrow at him. He didn’t really expect her to believe that, did he?
He rubbed his jaw in one hand and squeezed his face—an attempt to keep himself from spouting more lies? His troubled blue eyes refused to meet her imploring gaze.
“It’s different with me,” he said finally.
“How so?”
“I don’t have an impressionable child who has to witness it. I have never betrayed someone who loved me the way he betrayed my mother.”
“That’s true.”
Since Logan had previously boasted about his own so-called revolving bedroom door, she hadn’t realized her claim would upset him. But he still wouldn’t meet her eyes. She fought her urge to comfort him as they sat in awkward silence, her watching him closely. Him staring at the wall, trying to burn a hole through it.
“How do you do that?” he asked, his gaze flicking to hers at long last.
She shook her head in confusion. “Do what?”
“Get a guy to spill his guts one minute and then reevaluate his entire outlook the next.”
She shrugged. “Gifted, I guess.”
“I guess.” He shifted closer again so that their knees touched, and he gave her leg a playful nudge.
She was starting to think their little spats strengthened their growing relationship rather than hurt it. She’d never seen her parents argue. They must have had an occasional disagreement, but had shielded her from that reality. She wondered if only witnessing the happy times between her parents and none of the strife had somehow skewed her perception of a good relationship. Logan’s ideas about romantic relationships had obviously been swayed by his father’s philandering ways. She supposed they’d have to figure out the balance required for a healthy relationship on their own.
“So you played trumpet?” she asked.