Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I learned yesterday evening that Hector is not someone I can count on to have my back. In fact, there is no one in Logan’s life I can depend on to take my side, including his daughter. That revelation came as a shock to me when I was arguing with her dad, who was insisting that he drive Zuri and me home last night after I found out that their house was in fact just a couple of blocks over from mine. Even though it would have been less than a ten-minute walk, Billie told me that her dad should drive because the roads are dark and people drive like maniacs. I didn’t bother pointing out that the sun hadn’t even fully set. I could tell that if I had, she would come up with some other reason, and it wouldn’t change the outcome in the end. “You two have fun.”
Glaring at Hector’s back as he walks away, I turn my glare on Logan, who ignores it and wraps his hand around mine. I think about putting up a fight when he starts pulling me with him towards the exit, but in the end, I just let him lead me outside.
There is no reason to cause a scene, and honestly, I’m hungry and know better than to go grocery shopping when I haven’t eaten. The last time I did, I ended up with questionable grocery store sushi, a pre-made deli salad that was half spoiled, a whole birthday cake, and other random stuff that we didn’t need. Not that I regret buying the cake, Zuri’s laughter when she saw it was enough to make the purchase worth it, plus birthday cake is delicious.
“Can I have my hand back?” I wiggle my fingers that he still has a hold of when we get outside.
“In a second.” He leads me across the street, then lets my hand go and smoothly slides around me with his hand on my lower back, placing me on the inside of the sidewalk away from the street. The move is something I’ve seen my father do with my mom countless times, but have never experienced myself, and I have to admit there is something nice about the act of chivalry, even if it’s completely unnecessary on a completely quiet street.
“Did you call fluid guy?”
“Stop calling him that.”
“Did you?” He drops his chin, locking his eyes on mine.
“Yes, we spoke.”
“And?”
“And nothing, we’re not together, or weren’t together, so what happened didn’t or doesn’t matter.” I look around. The street we’re on is mostly dirt lots. “Where are we going?”
“Olive and Oregano.” He points to a plain white brick building with no sign on the front. If I were driving by, I wouldn’t know to stop, and I doubt that anyone else would either. “They just opened a few weeks ago, the owners moved here from Jersey.”
When we get to the door, he holds it for me to go in before him and as I step inside my mouth waters from the smell of Mediterranean spices. The space is small and the few tables that line that walls are all empty.
“You’re back.” An older gentleman with dark hair that is silvering around his temples, tan, weathered skin, and a large belly smiles, getting up from a chair that is facing the TV hanging in the corner of the room.
“Told ya I would be.” Logan urges me forward with his hand on my lower back.
“And you brought a friend.” The man smiles at me. “Or are you the girlfriend?”
“Friend,” I tell him, and his eyes move to Logan.
“Pretty girl like this and you’re not dating her?”
“Still trying to win her over,” Logan mutters, and the man’s smile widens.
“Maybe a good meal will help.” He pats Logan’s arm. “Have a seat, and I’ll get you a menu.”
“Thanks.” We walk to the closest table, and take a seat, a second later a menu is placed in front of me.
“When you’re ready, just let me know.” Without asking if we’d like a drink, which I find somewhat unusual, he walks back to his chair in front of the TV and takes a seat.
“Do you know what you’re getting?” Logan asks after a few minutes, and I lift my eyes to his.
“The Greek salad, hummus and pita platter, and a souvlaki if I can get just one. You?”
“Last time I was here, I had a gyro. I think I’m going to have that again.” He takes his eyes off mine and calls out. “Bion.”
“Yes.” The man, whom I’m assuming is Bion, gets up and comes to the table. “What can I get for you?”
Without looking at me, Logan gives him my order and his own, and after jotting it down, Bion walks behind the counter, disappearing out of sight.
“Is he the only one who works here?”