Chapter Thirteen
The following night, Jeni received her third invitation of the day.
Logan:What are you doing tonight?
Jeni:My mom’s making enchiladas. It’s the one thing worth hanging around for.
Logan:I guess asking you to dinner is out.
Jeni:My answer would be no. Just like it was when you asked me to breakfast. And at lunch.
Logan:Friends eat together all the time.
Jeni:Would you let me pay?
Logan:No.
Jeni:= date. No.
Logan:Is Andrew there?
Jeni:No, he needed to study.
Logan:Fine. Guess I’ll find someone else to go out with.
Jeni:Of the female variety?
Logan:Maybe. Jealous?
Jeni:Not in the least.
Logan:I’d rather it be you.
Jeni:Have fun.
Jeni settled back into the armchair and turned her attention to the reality show Rhonda was watching. She had to admit, she’d begun to see why these shows were so addictive. It was like a bad habit she desperately wanted to avoid, but she got sucked in against her will. Tonight in particular, she was glad for the distraction.
Did she want to spend time with Logan? Yes.
Was she jealous that he might go out with another woman tonight? Also yes.
Enough to go back on the promise she’d made herself almost three years ago? Unfortunately, no.
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Jeni jumped up to get it, assuming it was another Amazon Prime package being delivered for Valerie.
It wasn’t.
“Logan?”
He stood there smiling, hands in his pockets, looking irritatingly sexy in well-worn jeans and a black fleece pullover. His blond hair was wind-blown, and the dimple in his cheek teased her like someone handing out samples at the supermarket. Just one little taste. What a bunch of bull. They know you’re gonna buy the whole damn box.
“Hey. I just wanted to stop by and see if anyone checked on Andrew today—what smells so good?” He took a step forward and snuck his head inside the door.
“Logan! Is that you?” Valerie called from the couch.
“Logan’s here?” Jeni’s mother yelled from the kitchen. She appeared in the living room, one hand holding a spatula and the other encased in an oven mitt. “Jeni, invite the poor man inside! I’m making enchiladas, would you like some?”
“I’m starving. That sounds incredible, Mrs. Bishop.” He slipped inside.