Death. This must be what death felt like.

"Well, well, well. Look who's finally  waking up."

I groaned as I rolled over in the bed. It took all my energy to pry my eyes open. I squinted in an attempt to see clearly. It was hard to think clearly—let alone see clearly.

"Grant?" I took a look around. Clearly I wasn't in my room at the lake house. A hotel room. His hotel room. Fuck. "What happened last night?"

I had all of my clothes on, so clearly we didn't have sex. I didn't know I felt about that. One thing I did know, was that I didn't remember a damn thing.

"I started to get worried when I didn't hear from you. Then I got a call from Terri."

I frowned. "The bartender?" Was I at the bar last night? Even if I was, why the fuck would she call Grant? How did she even get his number? I tried to sift through my broken, jumbled memories. I remembered Amelia's surprise party wasn't going too well, then my dad wanted to talk about something... "Fuck me," I groaned.

I ran a hand over my face then looked back at Grant. "How hammered did I get?"

Grant smirked and that only terrified me more. "Truth?"

"Yes." No. My gut told me to beg for Grant to lie to me. To tell me I did end up coming over here last night. Then we drank, laughed, and I passed out. That's what I wanted to hear. 

But that's not what Grant ended up saying. "You made Terri call me to come get you."

I felt the color drain from my face. If I told Terri to call Grant, then what the fuck else did I say?

"Did I say anything else? To Terri?" I asked hesitantly.

Grant leaned back in the desk chair he was sitting in and his smile widened. "I believe your exact words were: 'Is he coming? Tell him...tell him I said please. And he has nice eyes. And soft hair...I want waffles.'" Grant licked his lips before flashing me a satisfied grin. "I can't say I didn't enjoy the compliments."

I buried my face in my hands. "I'm screwed. I'm so fucking screwed. My family is going to find out and then—"

"Relax, Logan. It's going to be fine. Terri promised that she won't say anything about anything." 

I looked up at him. "Why? Why would she help us?" I got up from the bed and started to lose my balance. Yeah, I was still a little drunk.

Grant jumped up from his seat and grabbed me by the shoulders to steady me. "Whoa! Easy there big guy. Look at me."

My head was pounding and I could barely focus. Fucking hangovers were never worth it. 

Grant had his hands on either side of my throat with his thumbs resting on my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Logan, look at me."

I blinked repeatedly, trying to focus. After a few deep breaths, the room finally stopped spinning. 

"Better?" Grant asked quietly. 

I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." 

He stroked my face with his thumb before he removed his hands. The loss of contact had me swaying on my feet—and it wasn't the hangover this time. I've always been a sucker for his touch. When his hands were on me, the rest of the world seemed to disappear. 

Grant reached for something on the bedside table. "Here, take these." 

I took the asprin and the glass of water he offered me. I was so dehydrated, I drank every drop. I handed him back the empty glass. "Thanks. Again." 

He chuckled and sat the glass down on the table. He turned and walked back to the desk. He grabbed one of the two cups of coffee and handed me one. "Thought you might want some coffee. It's just like you like it." 

I took a sip of the coffee and it was heavenly. "God, that's good." 

Grant snorted. "You're welcome." He walked over towards the desk again and leaned against it. "So, are you going to tell me what happened with your dad last night?"

I exhaled a shaky breath. "I can't talk about it right now. I have to get to the lake house for this cook out thing my parents are doing. I promise when I see you for dinner tonight I'll tell you."

Grant looked me in the eye and his voice was steady. "I'm going to hold you to that."

Good. So was I.

"Logan, for the twentieth time, I'm fine. And stop apologizing."

I stood behind Amelia in her bedroom as she finished brushing her hair and putting it up in a ponytail. Thankfully, I snuck back into my room before anyone woke up.

"Come on, Amelia. You looked really upset and uncomfortable last night at your party. I thought you would have liked the surprise."

She met my eyes in the mirror. "I appreciated what you did, Logan. I really do. It was sweet."

"But? I'm sensing a but." Wyatt told me she had a problem with crowds, but she needed to tell me herself. After the talk with my dad last night, Amelia and I were going to have to communicate better.

She turned to me and exhaled a deep breath. "I just...don't do well with big crowds and stuff. Never have." She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I don't like to talk about it much. I just...don't do crowds."

Well, was a start. "I totally understand. It won't happen again, Amelia. I promise."

I gave her a quick kiss before I started to leave the room. "I'll see you down at the cookout?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be there in ten minutes."

After I left Amelia alone in her bedroom, I descended the stairs and headed towards the backyard. My mom and dad thought it would be a great idea to have a cookout today. It seemed that they liked having something planned every minute of every day almost.

Thankfully they didn't have any plans for tonight. I didn't want to have to reschedule or bail on Grant again. Especially after what he did for me last night. I still couldn't believe I drank that much. More importantly, I couldn't believe I said what I did in front of Terri. I needed to be more careful.

"Logan!"

I turned when I heard my mother's voice. "Hey, mom."

She came up to me and pulled me into a tight hug before slapping my shoulder. "What happened last night? You disappeared after the party."

My chest tightened. "I'm sorry, mom. I went out to clear my head and everyone was asleep by the time I got back." 

I swear, if I had a dime for every lie that I've been telling...

Her expression fell. "Is everything okay?"

I glanced to my right when I saw my father walk out of the house and into the backyard. I looked back at my mom. "Yeah. Everything is fine, mom."

I cleared my throat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "When Wyatt comes out here, let him know I'll be waiting to kick his ass at cornhole."

"Language!" my mother warned.

I chuckled as I walked over to the game and started setting it up. Not five minutes later, I heard Wyatt's mocking tone.

"Plan on losing some money to me again, big brother?"

I rolled my eyes. "We'll see. Let's start by flipping a coin to see who goes first." I pulled a quarter out of my pocket. "Call it."

"Heads."

I flipped the quarter in the air. Tails. "Ha! I won the coin toss, so I get to go first."

"Fine, but no cheating like before. It's not my fault you lost and had to dish out one hundred bucks," Wyatt shot back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Amelia interjected as she joined their little spat. "What's going on here?"

Wyatt pointed to his brother. "He's a sore loser."

"No, I'm not. Wyatt is the one who--"

"Enough!" She looked from one Thorne brother to the other. "Logan gets to go first and I'll be the ref during this game. If one of you acts up, then there will be severe consequences. Understood?"

We both answered at the same time. "Agreed."

Amelia and Wyatt took a few steps back while I threw my bags. When I made all of them into the hole, I turned and gave Wyatt and evil smile. "Ha! Perfect score so far!"

Wyatt shrugged his shoulder and stepped up for his turn. "I'm not worried. I'm always the champion."

"Winner!" Wyatt called and slugged his brother on the arm. "Told ya."

I rolled his eyes and paid Wyatt the money I lost in the bet. "You know, no one likes a gloater, Wyatt."

"You say that because you lost."

"Food's ready!" my dad called out.

I gave Amelia a kiss on the cheek. "Ready to eat, babe?"

"Yeah, let's go."

I took Amelia by the hand and we started walking towards the picnic table. During the meal, we all indulged in some light conversation. Wyatt, my dad and I scarfed down so much food that Amelia and my mom made jokes about it.

After everyone was done eating, the sun started to set. I excused himself to go inside so I could call Grant.

He answered on the second ring. "You aren't cancelling on me, are you?"

I chuckled and leaned against the counter. "No, I'm not. Where do you want me to meet you for dinner later?" 

"Vincenzo's—and don't bail on me this time. You promised we would talk about what happened last night." 

I glanced through the double doors that led to the backyard and saw my dad talking to Wyatt. "I know. I promise I'll be there."

"Good," Grant said through the phone. "Seven o'clock. Don't be late."