For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

57: Wrong Answer, Right Question

With a quick glance I deemed the couch sit-worthy and plopped down with a groan. The last thing I’d been hoping for this morning was a rendezvous with Brent, or Lucas for that matter. As Logan settled into the couch beside me I couldn’t help but take another glance at what I was sitting on. Sure enough it was actually somewhat-clean. There were still a few stains here or there, but it didn’t look nearly as disease ridden as before. I knew I hadn’t been the one to clean it which brought the question to mind: Who had?

Just as I was picturing Logan in an apron he happened to look over at me with a mischievous smile. “Well don’t you look like the cat that got the canary.”

“I was picturing how this got clean,” I responded, scooting a little further away. He’d managed to slip his arm over the back of the couch, and subsequently behind me, somewhere in the three seconds we’d been seated. What can I say, he works fast.

His eyes flickered to the couch I patted in the newly made space between us. “Give a guy some credit,” he smirked.

“You?” I asked, a roll of my eyes following. “I would if I didn’t know you so well. What did you do, just vacuum everything off?”

“I flipped the cushions.”

My nose crinkled in disgust. “But there’s already stains-“

“Must have had the bright idea sometime in the past,” he grinned. His cool blue eyes flickered over me, obviously enjoying me squirm.

“It’s a wonder you’re still healthy,” I gumbled, looking away from his playful gaze. I wasn’t sure what was more unfortunate; that I believed him so readily, or that he was actually telling the truth.

“I could say the same.” Logan’s low purr of a growl drew my eyes back towards his. He leaned forward, closing the space between us with his broad torso. “It’s a wonder you’re not dead with the brotherly love of the Brent variety.”

I exhaled, a little nod making my hair shift over my shoulders. “I told you he has a different way of showing he cares.”

“If I hadn’t kept that in mind it could’ve gotten messy. But still, suicide?” he scoffed, relaxing back into the couch. “That was pushing it a bit too far.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “He’s always had a flair for the dramatic.”

“So what-“ he paused, tilting his head slightly as the air hung quiet around us.

I watched as he looked over the back of the couch and towards the hall, his blue eyes in a steady one direction gaze. “Logan?” I asked, trying to see what he was looking at. There was no one, and nothing, in the hall.

“Do you hear that?” he asked, getting swiftly to his feet. He finally looked down to me, shoving his black hair from his eyes. “I need to get this shit cut.”

Ignoring his complaint, I quirked an eyebrow. My gaze drifted as I watch him stare towards the hall, and instead ran over his body. I’d forgotten just how tall he was. How sturdy and – “Wait, hear what?” I almost had to shake the image of him from my mind. Of course it would snap to when he was shirtless, on his hands and knees, moving across the bed towards me. The way his muscles had rippled as he’d crawled towards me-