We’re in my walk-in closet, and I’m seated in a chair with a towel wrapped around my chest. My hair’s dripping water down my back as I watch Charlie rummage through my closet. Her features vacillate between shock and distress regarding the news I just told her. “Wait a minute. The two of you went out? Why am I just hearing about this?” she asks, skimming through the hangers.

“Because it happened out of left field. Besides, it was just a friendly get-together.”

“You decided to mention Mommy Dearest stealing the bracelet, but you left out the fact that you were on a date with Mr. McHotterson?”

“Not a date,” I huff.

“Whatever. So where did you guys go?”

I pick the skin at my lip as my eyes roam over my clothing. Though there’s plenty to choose from, I feel like I have nothing to wear, which is completely unlike me. Any other day I couldn’t care less about what to wear. But I keep shaking my head no to all of Charlie’s suggestions so far. “We went for ice cream, then the park.”

“Are you kidding me?” Her hand stops midstroke on a sundress, and she turns to face me.

“What?” I ask, unsure of the reason behind her wrinkled nose.

“Ice cream and the park?” I confirm with a nod. “What are you guys, like five?”

Rolling my eyes, I shift in the seat and cross my legs. “Whatever. I think he was sweet and we had fun. I had an amazing time…” I trail off with a smile, thinking about last night. Logan was the perfect gentleman.

“All right, then,” Charlie says, mockingly. “Well, I guess no dress for you, since he might surprise you and take your ass to BounceU.”

Funny thing is, after witnessing Logan and how goofy he can be with just a set of monkey bars, I’m sure BounceU would be right up his alley. “There’d be nothing wrong with us acting like big kids, jumping around in inflatable bounce houses.”

Charlie coughs out a laugh. It’s one of those incredulous laughs, one that lets me know she’s humoring me. She knows that is not my scene, but maybe it could be. With Logan it could be.

“Wear this.” Both of her arms jut out, a pair of white skinny jeans dangling from one hand, and a teal strapless blouse from the other. “It’s cute, yet comfortable. What do you say?”

“Okay. I can do that.” I stand, walk over, and grab them from her hands, dropping the towel and tossing the outfit on.

“Do you want to wear heels, flats, or sandals?” Charlie asks, twirling to face my shoe collection.

“Sneakers,” I say seriously.

Charlie meets me with a pair of nude flats and hands them to me. “Nope. I will not allow you to look a hot mess on this date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Whatever. Put on the shoes. I have to do your hair and makeup.”

I’m on the front porch, leaning against the column as I wait for Jenna. Memories of the first time we met float forward from the back of my mind—especially that kiss, which happened to occur on this very porch. Dammit. She wants to keep things clean and friendly, but the thought of that kiss turns my thoughts to anything but. It’s going to be very fucking hard for me to control myself tonight. I’ll try to be good and respect her wishes, but I can’t make any promises.

I hear rather than see the front door open. Leaning forward, I crane my neck and eye the double doors. Both Jenna and Charlie step out, and damn, Jenna looks…well, she looks fucking hot. Although I changed out of my dingy work clothes, I kind of wish I’d had time to go home, take a shower, and get completely ready. Whatever. Straightening, I shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. My heart staggers into a quick beat. What the fuck? I’m nervous. Why? It’s not like I’ve never seen a fucking chick before. Calm the hell down, Logan.

Charlie’s small figure struts up before me. I have to look down to meet her eyes, as if I’m staring at a ten-year-old. With her arms crossed, she sizes me up, scrutinizing. Then she whips her head back to glare at me. “You better be good to my girl, or I’ll be making a few calls and you’ll have a Lorena Bobbitt case on your hands.” She shoots up a brow. “Or should I say…in your pants.”

I wrinkle my brows. This chick is kidding, right?

“Oh my God, Charlie.” Jenna stumbles forward, pushing Charlie with a swat of her hand. “Sorry about that, Logan. Shall we go?”

“Um, sure.” I grab Jenna’s hand and step forward, walking side by side with her down the walkway. I can’t help but look back and sneak a peek at Charlie, who catches me. She gives me an aggressive two-finger eye point, making it clear that she’ll be keeping her eyes on me.

“Your friend is very…” I trail off, trying to find the right words without offending Jenna.

“Weird? Aggressive? Direct? Dramatic?” she finishes for me. “You can choose one, but I’m sure all of the above apply.”

“Yeah. Definitely all of the above.”

She laughs.

We reach my truck. I, being the awesome gentleman I prepared myself to be, open the door and help Jenna into the passenger seat. She thanks me with a slight giggle after I give her a small bow and a knowing, lopsided grin. Then I jog around and slide into the driver seat. “I have something for you,” I say, reaching into the backseat and grabbing the gift. Jenna’s eyebrows slant with curiosity when I hand her a thin, square object wrapped in newspaper. She flips it around in her hand, wondering what it could be. “Sorry about the wrapping,” I say. “It was last-minute and I didn’t have any of that colorful wrapping crap. So I figured newspaper would do just the trick.”

Jenna’s pink, glossy lips twitch into a smile. “What is it?” she asks.

“Open it and find out.”

Hesitantly, she runs her fingers over it, right above the headline regarding Philly’s City budget cuts. Licking her lips, she swipes a finger under a flap, beneath the clear Scotch tape, peeling off the rest of the paper and revealing the album. I take in the charm bracelet resting on her right wrist. She got it back. Yesterday she seemed pissed the hell off with the news regarding her mother having the bracelet this entire time.

I want to ask about it, but then I remember how Jenna said talking about her mother is the equivalent of placing her in a dark hole, so I decide to not mention it—at least not right now. “It’s City of Sound’s Greatest Hits,” I say. “I figured since you like what you’ve heard so far, you’d probably like to hear more from them.”




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