“Great,” he muttered.
I looked over at him sharply. “What?”
He stared back at me and I fought the urge to shudder. There was something about him that just didn’t seem right sometimes. “I said it sounds like fun.”
“That’s not what you said.” Why did I feel the need to argue? Keeping the peace with him was important.
Logan stepped closer, so close that his shoulder bumped mine. “Maybe not,” he whispered, “but we both know it doesn’t matter. You won’t tell Sam anyway.”
I stared at him in shock, forgetting about the dishes. I chose not to tell Sam about my concerns about Logan. I didn’t want to get between him and his brother. But, maybe, by not telling Sam the way I feel about Logan, I was actually giving Logan more power over us. While I thought about that I said, “I want us to be friends, Logan.”
He smiled, but it was not friendly. The hair on the back of my neck actually stood up. “You only want to be friends because you know that if it came down to it, Sam would pick me over you.”
His eyes, a hazel color similar to Sam’s, were not the eyes of a fourteen-year-old boy. Sometimes they looked so old and so wicked. It wasn’t often that I saw the look he was giving me right now because when Sam was around he was completely different. At those times, he was the fourteen-year-old boy who worshipped his big brother, the love he held for him was clear. Sometimes, he stared at Sam with a desperation that I found alarming. It was those times that Sam spent extra time with Logan, sensing the boy needed to know that he was there for him.
I cleared my throat, not looking away. “I wouldn’t ask Sam to choose.”
“I might.”
My heart began thumping again as I considered his words and the malevolent way he said them. I didn’t want to antagonize him and make our relationship worse, but I didn’t want him to think he could threaten me this way, either. Turns out, it didn’t matter because Sam came out of the bathroom. I stared at Logan, wondering if he would show his bad side to Sam for once.
Of course he didn’t. He transformed himself in seconds. It was like flipping a switch inside him. He turned into the sweet, devoted brother in a flash. It almost made me wonder if I had been imagining the cold way he looked at me.
Almost.
“Everything okay?” Sam asked, his eyes going between Logan and me. Could he feel the tension in the space?
I turned back to the sink, finishing up the dishes.
“Sam!” Logan said. “Gran’s having a cookout.”
“Cool, huh? Hey, why don’t you go grab the football? We’ll bring it with us and throw it around.”
“Awesome.” Logan went over to the far corner of the room and began digging through a plastic laundry basket filled with odds and ends.
Sam came up next to me, his eyes appraising as I dried my hands on the dish towel and hung it to dry. Are you okay?
I’m good. I wondered if I should tell him what Logan said.
You can tell me anything.
I know. Really, I’m fine. Instead of staring into his sincere honey eyes, I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. The feel of his arms was reassuring and I closed my eyes. When I opened them again I saw Logan standing there, staring at me. The innocence in his eyes once again vanished. In fact, I thought I saw a shot of an orange color— kind of like the first lick of a flame.
I looked away. I love you, Sam.
I love you, too. He pulled back and looked into my eyes, searching.
I smiled.
“Ready?” Logan asked, jogging to the door, clutching the football.
“Let’s go,” Sam said.
“Let me just put this away,” I said, stacking the dried dishes and opening the cupboard.
“You don’t need to do that,” Sam said, coming back to my side.
“I don’t mind.” I lifted the bowls and slid them into the cupboard. For a split second, my vision seemed to change and instead of the inside of the cabinet I swear it looked like I was reaching into a nest of snakes. I jerked back my hands and a bowl crashed to the floor, shattering.
“Crap!” I swore and bent to pick up the broken shards.
“Be careful,” Sam cautioned, bending down to help. But it was too late and a piece of glass stuck my finger and blood welled to the surface. Sam swore and grabbed the dish towel and wrapped it around my finger.
“Let me get this,” he said.
I looked back up at the cabinet and it looked exactly as it should. My head was pounding and I knew it was the headache that was making my eyes play tricks on me.
“Let me see,” Sam said, holding out his hand.
I removed the dish towel, tossing it in the sink and looked down. “It’s just a scratch.”
Sam took my hand in his and studied the cut. A muscle in his jaw ticked once. Twice. Then he looked up. “All right?”
“Yes. Sorry about the bowl.”
“It’s nothing.” He shrugged and clasped my hand in his, being careful of the new injury. Logan was standing in the open doorway, watching us. I had the sudden urge to tattle on him like a school girl. But I didn’t. I held my breath. I swear I thought he smiled before turning and racing down the stairs toward the truck.
He was so positive that Sam would chose him if forced to pick. I never intended to allow things to go that far. Someone who really loved Sam wouldn’t ask him to choose. So what did that say about Logan?
Chapter Eight
Heven
Summer air rushed through the windows and pushed against my skin, forcing the uneasiness I felt about Logan toward the back of my mind. It was the warm breeze coupled with the blue cloudless sky that made me want an afternoon of summer fun filled with hot dogs, fruit salad and football in the grass. I wanted to enjoy this rare, work-free afternoon with Sam. Who cared if the only reason we got it was because I almost drowned this morning? I didn’t and we were here. What was wrong with wanting a little summer bliss?
I was feeling pretty relaxed by the time we arrived back at Gran’s, energized by the idea of such a wonderful afternoon. Even Logan seemed a little more laid back. With Sam’s hand wrapped around mine and his solid thigh pressed alongside my own, the day’s drama was almost out of my mind.
Unfortunately, my positive mood was short-lived.
When the house came into view so did the cars parked beside it. The steering wheel jerked in Sam’s hands and he glanced over at me before driving on.
What the hell is he doing here? he said.
What on Earth is she doing here? I said.