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“Tha—that’s fine,” she said, still flabbergasted about this revelation. “I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Gus sounded startled. “Oh, thank God. I promised my wife I’d take her out for our anniversary. She would’ve killed me if I’d had to cancel on her to fill in for Lynne.”

“It’s fine,” Paige repeated, even though her heart rate jacked up a little too fast. “Really.”

Chapter Seventeen

PAIGE CLOCKED IN ten minutes early for her shift with Logan. As she slowly wrapped her uniform apron around her waist, she drew in a bracing breath. She was about to see him again. Her pulse had been jackhammering through her bloodstream for the past hour since she’d hung up with Gus.

The idea of getting to see him animated her from the inside out. She couldn’t pinpoint why it had her so restless; she barely knew him outside their history together. Maybe it was because every encounter with him had been so intense, it was hard for her body not to expect a little more intensity when she saw him again.

Forcing herself to exhale, she moved into the front, where Debra, who was obviously about to leave, gave a happy squeal and ripped off her apron. “Thank God you’re here. I was about to go crazy.”

Preoccupied with blending up a smoothie, Logan didn’t notice her arrival.

Paige tore her gaze away from him and sent Debra a smile. “Been a busy night?” she asked. She would’ve thought things would slow down during the holiday break.

Logan whirled around, lost his grip on the cup he held and nearly dropped it. While he fumbled to straighten it, he choked out, “What’re you—”

She breezed past him to the register where she would be working for the rest of the night. “Lynne called in sick. Gus couldn’t find anyone else to fill in.”

He didn’t have an opportunity to respond, customers were flocking to the counter, so he let her explanation go for a good five minutes before they had a break in traffic.

Paige turned to him and set her hand on her hips. “You talked to him, didn’t you? About making sure we never worked together?”

Logan studied her a moment before inclining his head. “Yes.”

Her lips parted. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth.” He glanced away, though she still caught the swirling look of anguish in his azure gaze.

Amazed and shocked he’d done something she instinctively knew he dreaded most in the world, she sh

ook her head to deny it. But what was more unbelievable was he’d done it for her.

“You know, I, um…I really appreciate what you did,” she murmured. “But honestly, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

At first, his only reaction was the flickering of his eyelashes. Then he frowned. “What doesn’t matter?”

She shrugged and shifted by him to find a rag and wipe up a spot she saw on the back counter. “It doesn’t matter if we work together or not, or if we’re, you know, in the same room. Or same class. I know I used to freak out whenever you were…close, but that’s not the case anymore.”

He went very still, focusing intently on her. “It’s not?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why not? What’s changed?”

“Nothing changed.” Paige put her back to him as she rinsed out the washcloth. “Except me, I guess. I just…I’ve worked through my issues a little. My issues concerning you, anyway.”

Behind her, he remained quiet, though she could almost hear his thoughts whirling, trying to figure out what this meant for them now. She would have liked to answer him, but she wasn’t too certain what it meant either. She only knew avoiding him at all costs was no longer necessary for her well-being.

When someone approached the counter, she rushed in front of Logan to take the order.

His mind still spinning as Paige stole his customer, Logan cocked his head to the side, trying to figure her out. She really was a different person than she’d been a few short months ago. He’d seen the transformation from across campus, but up close like this, it was…breathtaking.

He was so busy staring at her he didn’t realize he needed to intervene until she muttered a curse under her breath. Scowling at the whipped cream dispenser, she jiggled the nozzle, trying to get it to work.

“Oh, I forgot to warn you.” He hurried forward. “It’s on the fritz.”

“Again?” Paige spun to send him a frustrated frown. “What’re we supposed to use then?”

When he motioned toward the dozen cans of whipped cream Gus had run to the store and bought earlier, her mouth dropped. “Are you freaking serious?”