Chapter 105 Chapter 104
Logan POV
The weight room smells like iron and sweat and bad decisions.
It’s early enough that the place isn’t packed yet, but there are still guys scattered around—hoodies up, earbuds in, moving through reps like it’s religion.
Normally, this is where my brain shuts up.
Today, it’s not working.
I step inside and immediately feel eyes on me.
Cole’s, specifically.
He’s already at a bench, towel around his neck, mid-set like he was born doing this.
His gaze flicks over me once.
Then again.
Then his mouth twitches.
“Oh,” he says. “Interesting.”
I ignore him and head for the rack.
“Logan,” he calls casually.
I pretend I don’t hear it.
He raises his voice just enough. “Are those… the same clothes from yesterday?”
I freeze for half a second.
They are.
I didn’t think about it. I didn’t have time to think about it.
“It’s early,” I mutter.
Cole snorts. “That’s not an answer.”
I grab a barbell and start loading plates.
“Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t what?” he asks, far too innocent.
“Don’t start.”
Cole sets the bar back into the rack and sits up, resting his forearms on his knees.
“I’m not starting,” he says. “I’m observing.”
“I don’t need your observations.”
“Too bad,” he replies. “You’re like a walking question mark right now.”
I glare at him. “I’m fine.”
Cole’s eyes flick down. “Fine people don’t show up late to workouts in yesterday’s outfit looking like they got hit by a truck emotionally.”
My jaw tightens.
I step under the bar and lift it off the rack, needing the weight on my shoulders because it’s easier than carrying whatever the hell is in my chest.
“One,” Cole says conversationally, “you were late.”
I squat.
“Two,” he continues, “you never oversleep. Like, ever.”
I push back up.
“Three,” he adds, “you look… off.”
I rack the bar harder than necessary.
“I said drop it.”
Cole doesn’t blink.
“No,” he says. “Because something happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
Cole tilts his head. “Logan.”
I exhale sharply and grab my water bottle, drinking like it’ll drown the conversation.
Cole stands and walks over, leaning against the rack beside me.
“You want to know what I think?” he says.
“I really don’t.”
“I think,” he says slowly, “this has Harper Lane written all over it.”
My grip tightens.
I don’t answer.
Cole watches my face carefully, like he’s reading what I’m not saying.
He lowers his voice.
“Were you with her last night?”
I hesitate.
That’s enough.
Cole lets out a breath. “Okay.”
“It’s not—” I start.
“I didn’t ask for details,” he cuts in. “I’m not your priest.”
I shoot him a look.
He shrugs. “I’m just saying… you don’t look like this over a bad movie or a missed workout.”
I swallow hard and turn away, focusing on the plates.
Cole’s voice softens, just slightly.
“Did something go wrong?”
I laugh once, sharp. “I don’t know.”
Cole’s brows knit. “That’s not an answer.”
“I woke up,” I admit, quieter, “and she wasn’t there.”
Cole stills.
Gone.
No jokes now.
He studies me for a long moment.
Then he says carefully, “Did she say anything?”
“No.”
“Text you?”
“No.”
My chest tightens.
“There was nothing,” I add, frustration leaking through. “Just… empty.”
Cole exhales slowly.
“Logan,” he says, “Harper doesn’t do casual disappearing. She does overthinking.”
I look away.
“And you,” Cole continues, “have a talent for making things feel complicated without even trying.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s accurate,” he says. “So maybe she panicked.”
The idea twists something in my gut.
“I didn’t even do anything,” I mutter.
Cole raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do something. You just have to matter.”
That lands harder than it should.
Cole steps back, shaking his head.
“Text her,” he says simply.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” he replies. “You just don’t want to risk hearing something you don’t like.”
My jaw tightens.
Cole turns back toward the bench.
“And for the love of God,” he adds over his shoulder, “go change your shirt before people start thinking you sleep in that thing.”
I stand there, heart heavier than the plates.
Because he’s right.
Cole doesn’t know what happened.
He just knows I look like someone who finally cares—
and has no idea what to do with it.