For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

53: Friends?

It wasn’t until we finished our dinner of microwave burritos and corn from a can that I realized something that should have been my first priority when waking up. “I thought you said Maver was coming home soon?”

Logan looked up from his spot on the couch as I entered the livingroom. For some reason I’d taken it upon myself to do the dishes. “He’s been at his girlfriend’s all weekend. Her parental are out of town or something.”

“But you said-“

“Have you seen True Romance?”

“What?” I asked, momentarily stunned. When he only gave me a look that said ‘well?’ I shook my head. “Uhm, no. But-“

“It’s amazing, want to watch it?”

I scrunched up my face, peering at him cautiously. Logan was asking me to watch a movie with him? “True Romance?” I asked, my voice positively dripping with suspicion. “Why?”

Logan smirked, taking some sort of twisted satisfaction in my complete lack of trust in him. “It’s not a chick flick. It’s a Christian Slater classic. A little action, some drugs and a whole lot of crazy.”

His expression was practically begging for me to ask more questions. I already knew why; he wanted to tease me. Instead of taking the bait I only smiled. “Sure, why not?”

A mix of pleasure and his own brand of suspicion caused him to rise from the couch. “You’ll want to get in comfy clothes, it’s a long one.” His eyes lit up suggestively.

“I’m sure I can handle it,” I responded, my own cocky smirk coming to inhabit my features, “but thanks for the concern.” I dipped into the hall, mentally hitting myself. I was only encouraging his bad behavior and I knew it.

“You know where my room is if you need anything,” his voice floated from the livingroom.

For a hot second I considered it. Oh how shocked he’d be if I came out in one of his shirts as a pajama dress! They’d be just long enough on me to land just above mid thigh. It wouldn’t be revealing anything but leg, yet would tease him into a stunned silence, that’s for sure.

The idea came and went as I locked Maver’s door behind me. That would be considered inviting trouble, and trouble was one thing I didn’t need. But still . . . an opportunity to be the one teasing him for a change was too great to pass up. I found myself slipping my toned, thankfully shaved earlier that morning, legs into a pair of Maver’s boxers. I kept my own white wifebeater I’d been wearing as an undershirt on, and smiled to myself. Seeing me in his brother’s boxers would annoy him even if he didn’t say a word about it, of this I was certain. I didn’t know why, but that didn’t matter.

Keeping my expression casual I sauntered into the livingroom. Logan had beaten me out, wearing a pair of deep blue plaid pajama pants. He’d had the brain to leave his shirt on, which surprised me. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly aware of my presence he looked up from the blanket he’d been spreading across the couch. His keen blue eyes wasted no time in scanning me slowly not once, but twice. “I know you have a grudge against my couch, so I took protective measures.”