Page 179 of With a Cherry On Top

“She has Parkinson’s.” The words taste final, like they’re changing everything.

“No.” Logan steps back like I just threw a punch. “No, that—that doesn’t make sense. She’s too young. She’s—” His voice cracks, and his jaw clenches so tight I can see the muscle twitch.

Beside me, Charlotte squeezes my arm.

I say nothing. What the hell is there to say?

He grips the back of his neck, his chest rising and falling too fast. “I don’t...understand. How long have you known?”

I hesitate, and that’s all he needs. His eyes darken.

“How long, Aaron?”

“A few weeks.”

He stares at me like I’ve just shattered something between us. “Since the last time she ended up here.” He scoffs, eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“She asked me not to. She didn’t want to tell you until after the wedding—didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, Iamworried!” His voice breaks, raw and exposed, and I see it: the fear in his eyes, buried under all that anger. “I’m—I’m fucking terrified.”

I breathe through the ache in my chest. “Me too.”

“She should’ve told me.Youshould have.”

“Yes,” I agree. “But you’re herbaby, Logan—the youngest. You know how she is. She was trying to protect you.”

He lets out a shaky breath, pressing his fingers to his temples. “I don’t need protecting.”

I glance at Charlotte and she meets my gaze, like we both know weallneed protecting from this.

“Hey,” a tentative voice interrupts. We turn to the entrance, where Ian stands awkwardly with a set of car keys in his hand.

’Cause that’s what we needed right now. More fucking tension.

He looks...uncomfortable. Like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. His gaze flickers between me and Charlotte before settling on Logan, and I see the exact moment he starts reconsidering his life choices.

He holds up the keys. “I brought your pickup.”

Logan catches them in the air. “Oh, right. Thank you.”

“You got it. How’s your mom?”

“They’re just stitching her up.” Logan’s gaze flicks to me, then to Ian, probably noticing we’re fully avoiding looking at each other. “What’s going on here?”

Ian shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry. I really didn’t have a choice. Amelie made me fire him.” He points a finger at me. “And Ididwarn you that we’d have a problem if you hurt her.”

Logan’s face twists in confusion. “Wait, what? Youfiredmy brother?”

Ian visibly winces at Logan’s anger, shoulders tensing. Probably thanking his lucky stars we’re already in a hospital. “I...I had no choice, Logan. He slept with a client’s daughter.”

Holy fucking shit.

“And may I remind you that I’m more useful to you alive, because I’m a wonderful babysitter.”

His humor is lost on Logan as he turns to me, nostrils flaring. “Youwhat?” His voice is eerily calm, which is never a good sign. Then, louder, “What thefuckis wrong with you?”

I could die.Of all the ways I imagined Logan finding out, this wasn’t even in my top ten. Or in my topfifty.