Until this moment, though, he hadn’t considered that she might be excited about the prospect of seeing Logan again. She had given Logan her number, after all. And had been less than thrilled that two weeks had passed before he contacted her… Had she waited in anticipation and been disappointed when he hadn’t called her the next day? According to his sisters, Logan was good-looking, and Andrew knew he never had trouble with women. Could it be that Lauren’s hesitation to go out with Andrew stemmed from her desire to see how it went with Logan first?

Problem was…they were one and the same.

Shit. I’ve really dug myself into a hole now.

Her quiet voice brought him out of his reverie. “I’m sorry.” She gathered her belongings into a pile on the table, and she stood. The black shirt she wore brought out the brightness of her eyes, and the color was a lovely contrast against her pale skin.

Don’t go, he wanted to say.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, her eyes on his. “I just can’t.” She picked up her things and turned to face the door. “I’m sorry.”

Then she was gone.

This is a mistake.

Andrew closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest. Scrubbing one hand down his face, he pounded the steering wheel with the other.

He sat in the Republic parking lot. It was two minutes past seven, and because pharmacists had to be some of the most detail-oriented people on the planet, he’d bet his left arm that Lauren was already inside.

Waiting for Logan.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

An hour ago, it had been: I have cancer. Yes, the chances of complete cure are greater than 80 percent for the type and stage I have…but 20 percent don’t get there. What if I’m that 20 percent? This is not a time for fear. It’s a time to take risks. To live life and go after what I want with both hands.

Now, it was: I’m a complete moron.

He wouldn’t stand her up, though, even if the only person it made look bad was Logan. Andrew couldn’t do that to her.

Man up and get in there.

He slid both hands through his hair, straightened the collar of his button-down shirt, and got out of the car. His stomach was in knots.

Once inside, he stopped at the hostess stand.

“Reservation for two for Andr—I mean, Logan Davis.”

The young woman at the podium referenced her book and smiled at him. “Follow me.”

She led him through the maze of tables, and Andrew’s palms began to sweat. He focused on breathing as his eyes darted from table to table until he saw her. In a stroke of luck she was facing away from the door and hadn’t caught sight of him yet.