Logan gives up on bugging me for info pretty quickly. He had a shitty year, and I was there for him, and in return, he never prodded into my personal life. He knows I own the shop, pretty comfortable financially, and live a solitary life, but he never demands to know more about me. My past, outside of my long friendship with his brother, is not a topic of conversation.

His girlfriend on the other hand…

Without fail, Sierra pops into the shop with a wide smile on her face. “Who was that?” she asks, like she’s Logan’s goddamn echo.

“He’s not talking,” Logan answers as she wraps his arms around his waist, leaning in for a quick kiss that I look away from, like always.

“He’ll talk to me,” she says, her voice taking a deeper, colder tone. Sierra has no fucks to give. It’s one of the things I like about her. She may be a cute blonde on the outside, but inside, she’s a fierce badass...making her the perfect girl to keep Logan in check.

I let out a chuckle as she puts herself back in my line of sight. Keeping myself busy, I organize my station and restock the new inks that came in, but Sierra is there.

“She’s pretty. Are things serious? You took her on your bike, and if Logan taught me anything, it’s that those bikes are pussy magnets, and you guys know it.”

“That’s not all I taught you,” he says while chewing on the straw of his smoothie.

“Enough.” My voice reverberates through the quiet shop. “God dammit, Logan, put on some music or something. It’s too quiet in here.”

Without another word, he walks over to the counter and syncs up the bluetooth speaker to something heavy and loud. Sierra doesn’t waiver from her post in front of me, but instead of being the bubbly girl who walked in, her expression has hardened, and I can feel her reading me.

“Something’s bothering you,” she says, without having to even ask. And it’s true. My shoulders are tense and feel like they’re by my ears. Business has slowed a lot since Spring Break, and I’m constantly on edge about the city’s new cleanup initiative, and I can’t help but think that those two things are connected.

Logan and Sierra don’t know about Hazel, not that she exists, that I’m living with her, or that she’s dying. Sierra wants to know about Savannah, but I can’t tell her that I’m torn between wanting to fuck this girl’s brains out and kicking her out of the house she lives in because I will never be convinced that she’s not a money-hungry freeloader.

Sierra touches my arm.

My shoulders relax with my next deep exhale. I find her eyes and try to think of which piece of this bullshit news I should tell her. Because I can’t deny her, not like this. In the past few months that she’s been on Wickett, pulling Logan out of his lowest point, I’ve grown to really care about the girl.