“Go out with me tonight,” Zach says, stuffing the remnants of his fourth taco into his mouth. Not that I was counting or anything…

We’re seated around Logan’s small round dining table eating my famous turkey tacos—which the guys seem very impressed by. Cooking has always been something I enjoy. There were times growing up we couldn’t afford groceries, so when we could, I loved whipping up something delicious.

“I can’t,” Logan says, looking remorseful.

“Babysitting or something?” Zach asks.

Logan’s eyes flick to mine. “Yeah.”

I press my lips together to keep from snapping at him. It’s beyond frustrating that he still sees me as a kid. I’m twenty one years old and have been taking care of myself as far back as I can remember. And he sure as hell didn’t seem to think I was some kid he needed to look after last semester….

“You cook, you’re hot,” Zach lists these attributes out on his fingers as he talks. “How are the hell are you still single?” His blue eyes dance on mine, waiting for me to reply.

“Um…” I stammer for a second, suddenly self conscious.

“Drop it, Zach,” Logan warns, voice tight.

I focus on my plate and we finish the rest of the meal in silence. I’d counted on this meal making enough for two nights like it did for me and my mom, but there’s nothing left. And Zach even shakes the open bag of shredded cheese into his open mouth, polishing that off too. Well then. I should have known—hockey players can really eat. They burn a ton of calories on the ice.

I don’t know how long I’ll be staying here, but apparently if it’s for any length of time, I’m going to have to get more groceries, and in larger quantities. Especially if Zach intends on stopping by a lot.

Still somewhat annoyed by Logan’s babysitting comment, I set to work clearing the dishes from the table and stacking them by the sink. Logan comes up beside me and begins loading the dishwasher.

“Thanks for cooking,” he says softly, so just he and I can hear. I nod my consent and am about to broach the topic of him going out tonight when there’s a knock at the door. Maybe Mandi’s back. There’s a thought that fills me with dread. Or maybe Logan doesn’t trust me alone in his apartment and has decided to stay in tonight for that reason. Either way, I’m feeling all kinds of on edge. Maybe I would have been better off going to BJ’s with my mom, after all.

“Baby’s here,” Zach announces.

Ugh. Is that his nickname for Mandi? And why does that annoy me so much?

Logan shoves the last plate in the dishwasher and wipes his hands on the dish towel before jogging to the door.

The cooing noises I hear when he opens the door take me a second to place. There’s an actual baby here. I peek around the corner to see Logan holding a chubby baby dressed in a pale blue onsie, and pulling a diaper bag from a woman’s shoulder onto his own.

Oh. It’s his sister Danielle, I realize.

I hadn’t seen Danielle in years. She’s Logan half-sister and when their parents divorced, she moved away. She was in my grade, but last I heard had transferred to the alternative high school after freshman year of high school. I’d heard through Tate that she’d gotten pregnant last year and had a little boy that she named Noah.

He’s absolutely stinking adorable. Gummy smile, two rosy cheeks and a shock of curly golden hair that sticks up in all directions.

“Hi Danielle.” I wave, realizing I’m still standing here clutching the dishtowel.

“Hi.” She grins, appraising me. She’s no doubt curious what I’m doing here, but she acts like there’s nothing odd about it. She and I were never really friends, but she’s a sweet girl. She’s wearing black dress pants and a crisp white button up shirt; she must be dressed for work.

“Hey, sunshine.” Zach sidles up beside Danielle, giving her a thorough visual inspection. She rolls her eyes. “Don’t teach my son any of your dirty habits, Sully.”

Logan laughs, clearly he enjoys Zach being put in his place.

She kisses Noah on his open mouth with a wet sounding smooch. “Bye, sugar.” Noah pumps his little fists in the air excitedly. Danielle thanks her brother and then disappears through the door.

Logan carries Noah into the living room, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “God, Dani,” he muses out loud. “Could you have changed him first?” He sniffs Noah’s diaper and winces.

I giggle.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Zach says. “Bye, cutie.” He winks. “Thanks for dinner.”

It takes me a second to realize he was talking to me, and not the baby. “Oh, sure thing. Bye.” I wave, not lifting my gaze from the adorableness that is big, strong Logan holding a baby. His hands look enormous supporting his nephew’s little body. His fingers curl all the way around Noah’s tiny ribcage. Theres something very sweet about watching a big, bulky hockey player handle a baby so delicately. He’s more gentle than I could have imagined.

“And another one falls for Logan. Damn,” Zach says, pulling open the door. “If you need anything, my apartment’s right at the bottom of the stairs.”

“She’ll be fine, Sullivan,” Logan says, his voice ringing with finality.

Zach’s wrong though—I won’t be willing for Logan. I just need a temporary place to crash and it shouldn’t matter to me at all how incredibly sexy Logan is. I don’t have time to get distracted by a guy right now, anyways. So no matter how cute Logan is, or Zach for that matter, I’m just not in the market for a man.  

When the door closes behind Zach, I turn to see Logan holding the baby at arm’s length. “Dang boy. What’s your Momma been feeding you?” Noah giggles and slaps a chubby palm against Logan’s cheek.

Logan laughs and bends to lay the baby on the floor. After hunting around inside the diaper bag, he gathers what he needs. Then manages to peel off the soiled diaper and makes efficient work of wiping the baby clean and replacing the diaper with a fresh one. It’s honestly quite impressive and much better than I could have done. I haven’t been around many babies. Logan seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

It’s sweet to watch them together. Even though it wasn’t a good situation Danielle had gotten herself into—pregnant so young and without the father in the picture, it’s clear that baby Noah is loved and well cared for.

 “So is this what Zach meant when he asked if you were babysitting tonight?”

“Yeah.” Logan releases Noah, who promptly begins crawling across the living room floor. My relief is immediate.

“You didn’t think he was referring to you, did you?” He smiles.

“I was sort of afraid of that. I don’t want to get in your way. And I don’t want you to feel responsible for me. I can take care of myself.” As soon as I’ve said it, I know it’s stupid. I’m staying in his apartment, so clearly I can’t take care of myself.  Duh.

“I know you can,” Logan says, nodding without a hint of amusement in his voice.

It’s nice to hear someone acknowledge it. Most days I feel like a freaking disaster. If you looked up trainwreck in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure my picture would be there.

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, your mom and Tate as long as I’ve known you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you out for once. Why didn’t you want to go with your mom anyways?”

“My mom’s going to stay with BJ,” I say. His expression stays blank. He doesn’t seem to recognize the name. My voice drops lower. “He was her live-in boyfriend when I was in seventh and eighth grade.” The worst two years of my life.  

“That douche bag?” He runs his hands over his face, looking tired.

I nod, my gaze fixed on my feet.

“That guy was a drunk and an asshole,” he mutters.

Exactly. And I doubt anything has changed. BJ spent so much time at the racetrack, Tate and Logan had nicknamed him Racetrack Billy. Which of course, they never said to his face. He had a really nasty temper and the smallest things would set him off.

“I know. He was the literal worst. But are you sure you don’t mind if I stay here while she’s living with him?”

“Yeah, you can crash here as long as you want.” Logan hesitates several seconds, and I hope that’s all he’ll say on the subject. “Want to come play with me and Noah?”

I nod, and follow after him, thankful he doesn’t pry any further. I’m completely out of element and wonder, not for the first time, how the hell I’m going to handle living here.