Craving Oblivion (New York Billionaires Book 3)

38| Deception

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Deception

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Chapter 38: Deception (Logan's POV)

Last night, Zarah fell asleep lying on the couch with her head in my lap and I had to carry her up and tuck her in before going to my own room to get some rest. The last thing I expected was to be woken up the next morning the way I was. 

"Hello?" 

I stirred awake, groaning as I ran a hand over my face. 

"Logan," she whispered. 

Rubbing my eyes open, I sighed, glancing at my open door as I lay on my side. I began rolling onto my back but grew stiff as I saw Zarah sitting beside me, leaning over me to get a look at my face. 

She sat chirpily in my bed with a shit-eating grin on her face. "I'm hungry," she smiled. 

"Excuse me?" I asked, clearing my throat, blinking, and hoping this was just a dream. 

"I would go downstairs but I physically can't do that without you. You have no idea how hard it was to hop to the bathroom and then over here." 

I stared at her in a daze. 

"You're an awfully heavy sleeper, I've been poking you for ten minutes," she added, dropping her chin onto my bicep. 

I groaned, turning my back on her and closing my eyes once again. 

She clicked her tongue in annoyance and pulled away from me. "Fine, I'll do it myself," she huffed. 

My eyes snapped over as I rolled over and grabbed her arm before she got out of bed. She looked at me over her shoulder with her brows raised. "Two minutes. Give me two minutes," I bargained. 

"Okay," she sang, scooting back and sitting against the headboard as I shot her a glare and then sat up, ruffling my hair as I stood up and blindly walked to the bathroom, my shoulder bumping against the doorframe as I did. 

After freshening up, I came back out and stopped at her side once she stuck her arms out, beckoning me over. "I should have agreed when you offered to hop everywhere," I muttered, scooping her up as she tightened her hold on me. 

"Why? This is so much fun," she laughed. 

"I'm sure it is," I snickered sarcastically, heading downstairs and seating her on the couch carefully before I went into the kitchen and prepared two omelets for us. "I called your Dad," I told her, handing her a glass of orange juice. 

"Today?" she asked in confusion. 

I nodded in response. 

She blinked in realization. "You're going to ask him about the crash," she concluded. It wasn't a question. 

"I can't take a risk by delaying it," I added, "you know I'm right." 

Reluctantly, she nodded softly. "Fine. Fair enough." After a moment, she said, "You can let me know if the taking care gets a bit much. I'm just... having fun, I guess. But if you really grow sick of it, I won't push it, don't worry."