Of Painted Water (Logan Lerman Love Story)

Tiramisu Kisses

Luckily for me Dev stepped in then, clearly not too happy with the thought of any guy having a woman like me in their lives.

"Has anyone seen the waiter? I for one could go for another round of breadsticks." he patted his stomach, and I jumped at the chance of getting out of a awkward situation.

"Breadsticks? How do you plan on eating what you ordered?"

He never got the chance to answer, however, because like strikes of lightening two giggling girls were at our table side, napkins and pens probably pulled hastily from a mothers purse clutched in their hands.

The girls looked to me about sixteen, with pretty summer dresses and their hair pulled into braids.

"Hey, are you Logan Lerman?" the one on the right, the brunette, asked, while the other squealed loudly.

Logan looked only slightly uncomfortable, and I knew it was because Dev and I were sitting right there. He liked us to think that he wasn't some huge movie star who played across the screens of our TVs. So I did the only thing I could think of, because I also knew that Logan liked saying hi to his fans.

"Dev, can you pass the salt?" I asked casually, pulling Devon out of his trance. He hadn't been 'mesmerized' by the girls, but rather by the courage they showed in just confronting us while we were in the middle of dinner. He almost seemed appalled, in a fascinated kind of way. But that was exactly what Logan was afraid of.

"For what?" he asked suspiciously, and I winced. In my panic to make Logan more comfortable I had asked for something I didn't need. The breadsticks hardly needed salt (it was almost sacrilegious to try and change the mighty breadstick) and the salad had been pre-dressed.

"For my soda, silly." I said through tight lips. He looked very confused, and I was seriously hoping that he would just let it go and say something like 'You're crazy' and move on. But not Dev.

He took the salt shaker and placed it down right in front of me, staring intently at me like I was some sort of gladiator in the arena.

I bit the inside of my cheek and glanced out of my peripheral vision. Logan was signing the napkins and talking with his fans. He looked a lot more comfortable and carefree without everyone watching. Yeah buddy, no ones watching cause they're waiting for me to drink salt.

Ah, hell.

I took the salt and placed it over my drink, tipped it, and shook a couple times to let the little white specks fall over the soda. it would probably taste horrible, but it was a small price to pay for Logan to be comfortable.

The top of my drink looked the same, mostly because the salt had kind of sunk in and melted, like sugar does when you put it in water.

I put down the Salt of Doom and lifted my glass to my lips, trying very hard to act like it was an actual thing.

"Nikki, that's gross." Devon wrinkled his nose, but he still watched me with rapt attention. The adults were glancing over every couple seconds to see what was going on, but for the most part they left us alone. They hardly even looked at Logan and the girls who still hadn't left yet. They were smiling and laughing, fluttering their eyelashes flirtatiously, even going so far as to touch his arm.

Sixteen! They were at least three years younger, and couldn't possibly expect him to date them. Jealously flared inside me, which was very surprising. It's not like I had never experienced jealousy. When Gracie Thompson had managed to get her claws on the new iPhone in junior year I had felt it. Little things sometimes made it rear that ugly head, but never had I felt jealous over a person. He wasn't mine.