For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

55: Full of Surprises

With poptarts in toe I made my way to Maver’s room, careful to avoid so much as looking down the hall towards Logan’s door. I could hear it was open by the sounds coming from within. He was on the phone with someone, and the tone of the conversation didn’t seem positive. It wasn’t any of my business. None at all.

I tested the door knob, stacking the paper plates up in my left hand, and smiled when the door inched open. If Maver hadn’t locked it that was a good sign. He wanted me to come talk to him, Logan was right. And I guess I couldn’t really blame Maver for being so upset. Once again he’d caught me with his brother without knowing about it. Sure, my explanation was innocent enough, but if I gave it I’d only look more guilty. I knew how my best friend’s mind worked.

“Don’t you dare hide on me,” I huffed, stepping into the room, “especially after you just got done saying you miss me.”

To my surprise Maver wasn’t sulking on the bed like I’d expected. Rather his futon was in couch form, and he sat in a casual sprawl, one arm over the back of the couch. “What took you so long?”

“Peace offering?”

He looked to the poptarts and groaned, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes. “Is it ever anything but food with you?”

I dropped onto the futon next to him, holding one of the paper plates under his nose. “I want to talk to you.”

He gave in, opening his eyes as he snatched the plate I was teasing him with. “I have a few things to say to you too,” he moodily snapped. But even as hard as he was trying to play the ‘man’ role, there was no hiding my smile as he picked off a piece of poptart and pushed it into his mouth.

“I’m all ears. I’ve been waiting for you to come home.”

“You’ve been waiting for me?”

I nodded, tearing the edges of my poptarts from the center. “I was.”

He grinned, slipping his arm behind me to ruffle my hair. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he started to tease. But then his smile fell a little and he narrowed his blue eyes in on mine. “But it sounds like you weren’t so alone after all.”

Logan. I frowned. “I don’t know if you noticed the line of coccain on the table when you walked in,” I hissed, “but Logan isn’t exactly real company.”

Even as I said it I felt terrible. He had been real company last night, believe it or not. I’d actually enjoyed the movie. True to his word it was not a mushy romance film. It had been just enough to keep me awake, but relax me enough that, by the ending of the movie, Logan’s position had shifted.

He’d somehow crept his way closer as the movie had gone on. He was closer now, his thigh pressing against me. My knees were hitched slightly over him, and he had one hand on my ankle. The other was on my upper thigh, his large hand spread out so his fingers reached inward, ending just before a very dangerous place for them to be. Neither hand moved, just rested there warm, firm and strong.