For Hating Me You Sure Are Possessive

50: Dessert

He chuckled, expression almost dripping with satisfaction. "All you have to do is ask."

Just the thought made my cheeks redden a shade. I couldn't look at a shirtless Logan without ogling his fine body; I didn't even want to imagine how I'd respond to him in the nude. I'd drool so much we'd have to turn his room into a swimming pool. I quickly shoved away the thought, focusing on his lips and the sly, pleased, smile that they had formed. 

"Ever considered there's a reason I haven't?"

"Never crossed my mind."

"Not many things do," I quipped back, leaning back into my seat.

Logan lingered for a moment, scanning my expression a few times before finally relaxing back into his seat as well. He eyed me over once or twice, only to realize I'd finished off the rest of my plate while we'd been talking. 

He smiled, searching for our waiter as he asked, "Do you want any dessert?"

I shook my head, sipping my soda up through the straw once more. "No thank you, I'm comfortably full."

"This place will do that to you," he agreed with a nod and a smile. 

"The food was great by the way," I managed to get the words out, adding a "thanks," at the end. It was difficult to thank Logan, not because I wasn't grateful, but in some werid way it felt like admitting defeat. 

Surprisignly his smile remained a smile. "Wait until you try the apply pie," he informed me, finally catching the waiters eye, "it's fucking amazing."

"I really can't eat anymore," I responded, looking up as the waiter interuppted. 

Logan ignored him, catching my eye by setting his hand on mine. "Just try a bite of mine."

I nodded numbly, my heartbeat pattering as he withdrew his hand and turned his attention to the patient waiter. "A slice of apple pie," Logan ordered," and the check."

The boy nodded, jotting it down on his pad. "Will that be all for today?" he asked, looking towards me with a friendly smile, "I can refil your soda. It's f-"

"No, that's it," Logan answered for me with a dismissive nod. 

A moment later and the boy was gone, leaving Logan and I alone in our own little world.

We sat in silence a moment, not even a look being shared between us. I was busy gazing out the window on the opposit wall, watching the rain fall. The weather had turned dreary while we were eating. 

"My mom used to bring me here when I was a kid," Logan's voice filled the silence. He looked to me, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That was a long time ago, yet it's exactly as I remembered it." His lips lifted into a little smile as he tapped on the tabletop, "Same crappy decor too."

"Logan," I asked slowly, my curiosity getting the best of me, "if I be nosey will we end up fighting again?" 

"Why?" he asked, just as slowly as I had, as though honestly thinking over the question.

I ran my hand over the table nervously, looking at the lame pictures of cars from magazines that had been decopaged onto the wood. It'd been the first time I'd heard Logan mention his parents, and I wanted to know more. He hated Jared, and I just couldn't understand why. I'd known Maver's dad my whole life, he was more of a father to me than my own was.  But the last time we'd talked about him Logan had ended up angry. "I like being happy like this; I don't want to start talking if it'll just piss you off again."

"I'll tell you if you get too personal," he chuckled, as though such a concept wasn't even possible. 

I nodded, still skeptical. One never knew what would set off Logan. I could cross a line just by asking the question in the first place. Yet curiousity got the best of me, and I decided in an instant it was worth the risk. If I got to know him better I'd understand why he was who he was, and hopefully in turn how to handle him better. It was at least worth a try.