But this is just for Angela. For show. It’s not really mine.
Seth leaned outside. “The wreath is gorgeous.”
“Yeah? Jenna said to get an ornament wreath, and that one looked good.”
“It’s perfect.” It’s not really mine. This is all pretend. I don’t get to have this.
“Can you flip the switch?” Logan called down.
Seth turned on the switch by the front door and leaned out. Multicolored lights adorned the lines of the roof, fat snowflakes drifting down to make it even more perfect. “It really does look great!”
Logan climbed down the ladder and stood back on the edge of the snow-covered lawn, craning his neck. He nodded. “This works.”
“You must be freezing! Come inside. I’ll make dinner. Well, I’ll nuke the rotisserie chicken and cheesy mashed potatoes I grabbed from the ready-made section.”
Logan grinned. “I’ll just put away the ladder and shit.”
“Right. I love the wreath too, by the way. Thank you.”
“Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it had too many colors. But it looked pretty. Jenna gave me a list of indoor stuff to get too, but I only had time for outdoor today. Had to take Pop to a doctor’s appointment.”
“I hope everything’s okay?”
He shrugged. “Same old shit. Pop won’t listen about cutting out the junk. Not to mention red meat and scotch.”
“Ah. I admit I enjoy a good scotch myself.”
“Yeah? Although I don’t think Pop drinks the good stuff.” He grabbed the ladder and carried it back to the garage.
Seth hurried to unpack the groceries, trying to ignore persistent flutters of excitement. It was a crush! No one had to know. He and Logan didn’t have a real relationship, but Seth could enjoy his company. He could enjoy not being so terribly alone.
As he opened the pantry, he stopped. This was the part when he typically would have thought of Brandon with a pang of loss that was at turns dull or deathly sharp. But tonight…
Nope. It wasn’t there. He didn’t miss Brandon. Maybe he hadn’t actually missed Brandon for a long time.
“Need a hand?”
He jumped, whirling around and dropping a bag of macaroni, which rattled. “No. I’m good.”
Logan eyed him warily. “Okay.”
Seth needed to say something else, and he cast about for a topic as he bent to grab the pasta. “How’s Connor doing?”
After a pause, Logan said, “Um, fine? I guess.”
“You haven’t spoken to him today?” Seth went back to unpacking.
Brows drawing together, Logan said, “No. We don’t really… He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Right. I hear what you’re saying.”
“But?” Logan snorted. “Go ahead. I can take it.”
“Well, I know you two tend to butt heads, but…” Seth tried to find a way to say it without offending. “The thing is, if you don’t make the effort with him, he’ll think you don’t care. Even if you end up arguing, I think it still helps to reach out. He’s angry and scared and difficult, but if you keep trying, he’ll surely come around.”
Logan frowned, seeming to ponder it. “I don’t want to bug him. You know?”
“Right. I get that. It doesn’t have to be a big thing. Maybe send him a text every day asking how he’s doing. Or it could be something like talking about sports or sending him a link to a funny video. Just…contact. Show him you’re thinking of him. That you care.”
“That makes sense.” Shaking his head, Logan rubbed a hand over his short hair, smiling ruefully. “Told you I’m useless at all this.”
“You’re not useless. It’s new. You’re learning.”
“You don’t have kids. How are you so good at it?”
“I’m not an expert by any means.” Still, he flushed pleasantly at the compliment. “I’ll heat up dinner. And how about a drink?” The thought of imbibing on a Monday felt ridiculously rebellious.
He really did need to get a life, didn’t he?
Logan said, “Yeah, thanks.”
“We might as well live dangerously, right?”
“Sure,” Logan agreed with a rumbling laugh.
Seth tried very, very hard not to think of what Logan would say if he talked dirty to him.
Chapter Nine
Seth muted the TV as another batch of commercials blared before the post-game. Logan had been surprised when Seth had suggested watching the Monday night football game with their dinner. Now they were relaxing on the couch, bellies full of chicken and cheesy potatoes. They’d moved on from beer to an after-dinner scotch.
Logan sipped his drink, enjoying the smooth burn. Seth could apparently afford the fancy stuff, and Logan wasn’t complaining. Instead of a harsh, hollow aftertaste, he was left with a spicy richness that made him think of his grandma’s fruitcake.
On the silent TV, dogs played basketball in a commercial for insurance or some shit. It was snowing, and if he squinted, he could see it piling up on the deck through the sliding doors. The gas fireplace made the room perfectly warm.
He definitely needed to get a tree and stuff before the boss lady came for dinner. And Logan had to admit the room would look great all done up, even if it was just for show and not a real family’s decorations.