"Of course not."
I glance away, trying to keep my instinctive smile under control before he really misunderstands.
It's mistake number one, and Logan comes to stand in front of me, scowling as he says, "That question didn't come out of nowhere. Is it that bastard, David or whatever?"
I stare at him blankly.
Who the fuck is David? My mind races through every person I've met recently—no David rings a bell. Nothing. The confusion must show on my face because his expression darkens. He leans down, his face inches from mine, green eyes flashing.
They're like a neon sign of danger.
"This is about David, isn't it?"
He looks as unhinged as I felt earlier over Brynn—jaw tight, nostrils flared, a vein pulsing in his neck. The absurdity of the situation hits me, and I make the catastrophic mistake (number two) of smiling wide.
He growls immediately and bites out, "Fuck it, they can leave the food at the door."
"Why would—"
