When You're Ready (The Ready Series #1)

Chapter Two

~Logan~

I didn't even know why I'd answered the phone. My best friend, Colin, meant well, but he sounded like a fucking broken record, and I didn't want to hear it—mostly because everything he was saying was true.

"Dude, you've got to stop burning the candle at both ends. You're gonna end up leaving a bloody cloth in someone's gut or something," Colin said.

I leaned back in the hard plastic chair of the hospital cafeteria, staring at my half-eaten dinner—ham and cheese sandwich that had tasted like cardboard with a side of caffeine. Again.

"Yeah, well, everyone has a hobby. Some people cliff-dive, and others garden or practice meditation. I just happen to excel at going to bars, drinking, and picking up women." I didn't think he found me nearly as funny as I had tried to appear.

The fact was, I was tired, so tired of everything, and...I just didn't care anymore.

When I left the hospital at night, I didn't want to go home.

I didn't know why I'd bought that house in the first place. It was so empty. I'd moved to Richmond to disappear. Colin had thought it was to be closer to him, and yes, it was nice having him around—when I actually bothered to see him.

God, I was an ass.

But at least he had Ella. He wasn't a bachelor anymore, and as happy as I was for him, I was also envious. I hated that feeling. I hated most feelings these days.

Reluctantly going home to the big empty house had left me wandering the halls with nothing to do but think. So, instead, I'd find mysemf out at a bar or a night club, trying to disappear in the crowd of people—until I'd get recognized. Did people really not have a life? Since when had billionaires' kids become so damn interesting? It did make finding a woman to go home with easier. No one would say no to a night with Mitchell Matthews's son. Too bad I never stayed until morning.

"So, that's not really the reason I called," he said with a nervous twitch in his voice.

Why was he nervous?

In all the years I'd known him, Colin had never been nervous about anything. He always faced everything head-on with balls of steel. I still remembered the night he'd met his wife, back when I'd still been a decent guy to hang out with, before I'd turned into the bastard I was now.

We had been at a crowded bar around campus when he first spotted her, walking in with a date. He'd said he had known at first sight that she was the one, and he'd had to talk to her before she disappeared into the crowd. Thinking he was crazy, I'd turned to tell him so, but he had already left. A man on a mission, he'd dodged people left and right, even jumping over a table full of people to get to her.

Finally reaching her table, he'd knelt down in front of her, totally ignoring her date, and looked up at her with his trademark shit-eating grin. "You're going to be the mother of my children, and I've been waiting my whole life for you. So, why don't you say good-bye to this loser and go someplace with me?"

The whole bar had gone silent by then, having witnessed the table-jumping shenanigans and heard his declaration of love. She'd looked around, turning red from all the attention. Suddenly, her horrified face had transformed into a mischievous smile. Thinking he'd won her over, he'd smiled back, waiting for her to say yes and follow him into the sunset or whatever.

Instead, she'd poured her entire margarita on his head.

The whole bar had erupted into laughter and applause. He'd stood and strode back over to our table, red slush sliding down his face, and rather than walk around in defeat, he'd sat back down, looking like he'd just scored a winning touchdown.