My Best Friend's Boyfriend - Page 66

“I’m not feeling well,” I said abruptly.

“Is something wrong? What happened?” Logan asked.

“It’s just that time of the month and I didn’t come prepared. I’m feeling a little dizzy and very tired and bloated all of a sudden.”

“Well, let’s go get you something then. I think there’s a twenty-four—”

“It’s fine. You stay here with Hunter. Okay?” I asked.

“No, Ava. I’m coming with you so I know you’re okay,” Logan said.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need to go. I’m tired and I really don’t feel well.”

“Ava, wait!”

Slipping from Logan’s grasp before he could wrap his hand around my wrist, I made my way through the crowd. I heard him calling out my name while Hunter tried to talk him down. Maybe this was how it needed to end, with Logan’s best friend talking some sense into him after my best friend had attempted to talk some sense into me.

I didn’t know what to think any longer. I didn’t know how to feel. All I knew was that I needed out of that bar. I needed to get away from Logan, away from Hunter, and away from Camilla. I needed to go home. I needed to get in my car, drive off, and find some way to clear my head.

And I needed to do it alone.

Logan

After chasing Ava out the front door only to see her squeal past the club, I ripped my phone out and tried to call her. I called her all through the night. I sent her text messages that next morning. I called her every hour on the hour, hoping I could annoy her into picking up the phone.

Fuck. How the hell had things gone so fucking sideways? I had no idea what to think. Things had been so good. Hunter had been nice, like I’d told him to be. We had danced. We’d had drinks. I’d gotten to hold her close and kiss those plump lips of hers.

Then she went to the bathroom and shit switched on a dime.

“This is Ava Leary, project manager at—”

I hung up the phone and threw it across the room, roaring in frustration. My hands shook. My chest heaved. I didn’t understand why the fuck she wouldn’t pick up her damn phone! Every time we were together, it felt amazing, intoxicating. I was addicted to the whole of her, and I wanted to know what the hell had happened last night. I loved spending time with her. I loved waking up to her. And now she was out of reach. Again.

I wasn’t letting this happen again. If things were going to work between us, Ava and I had to learn how to communicate. I didn’t buy that she hadn’t been feeling well last night, but if she had been telling the truth, then some soup might help her. I went into my kitchen and started throwing ingredients into a small pot, making her some homemade chicken noodle soup. That always helped me when I wasn’t feeling well, especially if I was nauseous. I cooked it up and poured it into a small container. Then I slipped on some clothes and made my way to the car.

If Ava wouldn’t pick up her phone, then maybe she would answer her door.

I pulled up to her apartment complex and started inside. I’d never been over to her place, but I knew where she lived. Camilla had talked about it all the time. I’d even picked her up there a time or two after she had spent the weekend with Ava. I strode over to the steps and walked myself all the way up to the third floor, then knocked on Ava’s front door.

When she answered the door, she looked just fine.

“Logan,” she said.

“I brought you some soup.”

I held out the container to her, which she limply took.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I came to bring you soup since you said you weren’t feeling well last night.”

“Yeah. My period.”

My eyes quickly dropped down her body before climbing back up to her stare.

“How do you know where I live?” she asked.

“I picked Camilla up here a few times after she’d spent the night.”

“Oh.”

“Are you really on your period, Ava?”

“Why would you question something like that?” she asked.

I drew in a deep breath and tried to keep my cool.

“You know you can tell me the truth, right?” I asked.

“I’m not feeling well, Logan. I’m telling you the truth.”

“Funny. You didn’t say anything about your period in that statement.”

“It’s early. I haven’t had coffee. I’m tired. I just want to go back to bed.”

“Then tell me what really happened last night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why did you rush out like that after lying to me?” I asked.

“I didn’t lie to you. I said I wasn’t feeling well.”

“You said you started your time of the month, that you felt dizzy and bloated and tired.”

Tags: Amy Brent Romance
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