Logan Enchanted

by Lolah Lace

  “Damn, okay, tell me how you really feel.”

  “Girl, Logan is cool but that’s it.” I’m looking for hot. She must be crazy.

  “So are you going to return the favor?”

  “What favor?”

  “He went down on you. You got to go down on him.”

  “Nope, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Use him for practice.

  “It’s not that serious.”

  “I did that before. I used to suck this guy’s dick so I could get my head game up.”

  Yuck. “My head game is fine.”

  “That ain’t what I heard.”

  “What?”

  “I’m just kidding. See if your head game was confident you wouldn’t have even believed someone was talking about it.”

  “Whatever. I’m straight in that category. I’m single and ready to mingle.”

  “Ugh, don’t say that. It sounds corny as hell.”

  “I need to date who I like. That’s all.”

  “Okay girl.”

  We talked about other things before parting ways. Sheba and Logan were my best friends. I cherished them both, just in different ways.

  CHAPTER 9

  Being single wasn’t as lonely as I thought it would be. I spent most of my free time with Logan. He made the single life bearable. He stayed in his lane, the lane with the slow traffic. I stayed in my lane, the lane where I was doing me. It was all good.

  At first, I thought Logan was going to try to wife me up. But he didn’t put any of his lame moves on me, thank god. Everything remained the same between us. By the same, I mean he was still giving me regular tongue action.

  I had grown accustomed to acting like Logan wasn’t going down on me. This happened some nights, actually a lot of nights. He never mentioned it and I never mentioned it. Really what was there to say? Who talks about orgasms?

  We continued to carpool to work every day. Sometimes we had lunch together when we hadn’t made other plans. I couldn’t say, no Logan, don’t go down on me. No Logan, I don’t want to have an orgasm. That’s just stupid.

  Logan was a smart-ass but he never got on my nerves. He knew when to shut up. A trait that was damn near impossible to find in a man, any man that was under forty. That’s for damn sure.

  We drove to work together today like we always did. I couldn’t wait to get back home after work. I was just tired from partying with Sheba the night before. I invited Logan but he wasn’t into clubs. Today I wanted the comfort of my own apartment. I was tired of being cooped up in the office.

  I watched the clock closely. I couldn’t wait to plant my butt in the passenger seat of Logan’s Nissan Altima and be chauffeured home. What would I do without Logan? It was almost time to pack up and leave for the day when I overheard Logan on his cell. I had figured out he was talking to his aunt. I couldn’t make out the conversation but I heard the words, time zones, flights and something about I will call you back. He was quiet after that. He stopped taking calls and kind of just sat in his cubicle. I tried to keep working but his mood was not the norm. I knew Logan very well. Something was off.

  I walked out of the building with Logan and we rode the elevator down to the parking lot. He didn’t utter a word to me. Something was up with the phone conversation he received. I could tell in his posture. We spent so much time together I just knew his moods. I was going to address it as soon as we got in the car.

  We were a few feet away from the car when – “Do you think you can drive?”

  “Yeah.” I agreed to take the wheel. That’s a first. He always drives. I couldn’t say no although I had no desire to be in this heavy traffic.

  Logan handed the car keys over to me after he popped the locks. I was starting to get a sinking feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t sure why. I got myself situated and pulled his car out of the parking lot.

  We made it only two blocks before I opened my mouth. I couldn’t hold water. I had to say something. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  I tried to sound like I cared. I did care. I didn’t have to try. I just consciously tried to sound more caring.

  Logan looked from the passenger window to me. I kept my eyes on the road.

  “My father died in a car accident this morning.”

  I held my breath. Did I hear him correctly? “What?” I gripped the steering wheel tightly.

  “My father was killed in a car crash.”

  I stopped at the red light and looked over at Logan. “Someone called you?”

  “Yes.”

  “While you were at work?”

  “My aunt called.”

  “What? Which one?” I wished I could take the question back but I had already asked when clearly it didn’t matter. He only had two aunts.

  “My mother’s sister, Paula.”

  Paula was the one without any kids. “What do you want me to do? Pull over or I don’t know.”

  “No, let’s go home. I need to book a flight and fly out early tomorrow morning.”

  Are you okay? I was glad I said that in my head and not out loud. “I’m sorry Logan.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  The drive home was quiet and long. Traffic was terrible and I was tense. I was overwhelmed with emotion and not sure what I should be doing to comfort him. I wanted to hug him but we didn’t hug normally. Would that be received well? He hugged me once? I couldn’t believe that I never hugged him. Sometimes he would spoon me in bed before or after he went down on me but it was all him. I never touched him like that.

  Somehow I felt a slew of questions wouldn’t be best. I really didn’t know what would be best. I did know that I would be there for Logan the way he had been there for me with my trivial bullshit. This was real life stuff not my regular self-centered bullshit.

  My heart broke for him and I wanted to make sure I was there for him regardless of the things that had transpired between us. Namely, the oral things.

  Logan didn’t talk much when I first met him but over the course of our friendship, he revealed more about himself and his upbringing. He talked about his family. He talked about his childhood. It was like I knew his family when I had never met them. His childhood had two loving caring parents.

  When we made it back to the apartment complex I helped him pack a suitcase. I got online and booked his flight. He didn’t really seem up for it. I listened in as he talked to his mother on the phone. He didn’t cry and that shocked me. I didn’t know if he was a crier. I knew so much about him but still there was so much I didn’t know.

  Logan seemed more worried than anything. Worried about his mother. I actually cried over the death of his father, a man I had never met. I didn’t cry in front of Logan of course but I went into the bathroom and cried. I don’t know why. I just did. I hurt because Logan hurt. His face made me feel sad.

  I had never felt that way before and I wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling. It was like he was apart of my family. Not like a brother because that would be gross. His father dying made me realize just how close I was to Logan.

  I was going to drive him to the airport at six in the morning. We brought his suitcase to my place. I made dinner and we ate together like we usually did. We went to bed early. We snuggled in my bed all night. I couldn’t sleep and I knew he was awake all night. I could tell from his breathing. Maybe he could rest on the plane. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to do more than I was doing. I just didn’t know what that was.

  What do you say when a friend’s father dies? Nothing I guess. I have always turned away from him in bed. This time, I turned toward him. It was dark so he couldn’t see me but I wanted him to know I was here for him. He wrapped his arms around my body and buried his face in my breasts. I raked my fingers through his hair while he held me close. I even think he slept for a few minutes.

  I hope Logan feels better.

  CHAPTER 10

  The days were long and uneventful without my sidekick. While Logan was in Florida I spent more time with Sheba. I went to the gy
m with her. Logan wasn’t into fitness or anything gym related. He could go up a point if he lost a few pounds.

  We started on the elliptical. She ignored me as she tinkered with her cell phone. The gym was one of the places I gossiped with her so I hated when she was busy texting people and messing around on social media. I rarely went to my Facebook page. I only had two hundred Facebook friends. Sheba had over two thousand. She was very popular and I was okay with that. I didn’t like all the attention but loved being in the know. I got all my celebrity and trendy news from Sheba. All my world and local news came from Logan.

  Her fingers stop tapping and she grabbed the handles of the elliptical.

  “Do you miss your not-boyfriend yet?”

  “Yes of course I do. I have to drive every day to work and I hate driving.”

  “Poor baby, he’ll be back soon. I’m sure he’ll let you use him just like before.”

  “I don’t use him.” I pouted as I thought about her false assessment of my friendship with Logan.

  “Ah chick, you kind of do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “He treats you like a queen and you treat him like an indentured servant.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You won’t give him any so he’s being treated by you. Please don’t act brand new.”

  I felt some kind of way about her candor. “If I gave him some pussy we wouldn’t be friends anymore. I like having a guy friend.” She needed a reminder of her past situation. “You tried to move Jaylen Jackson from the friend zone and that didn’t work out so well.”

  “That was me and Jaylen. I’m with Rashid now. We’re talking about you and Logan.”

  “As soon as you sleep with a guy friend, shit gets ugly. You know that. Don’t play with me.”

  “Your man is supposed to be your best friend.”

  “Where they do that at?” She was killing me. She knew that shit never worked out.

  “I think you’re prejudice. I think you won’t give him a chance because he’s translucent.”

  “Haha, wrong. Why do you always got to be extra? I don’t tell you what to do with your old raggedy ass pussy.”

  “Admit it. He’s too White for you.”

  “You fucked two Africans and you trying to tell me something about a White boy.”

  “First off, one of them was African and the other one was Jamaican.”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed loud enough to wake the dead. “Whatever. Where’s your White ex-boyfriend then?”

  “White boys ain’t checking for me.”

  “They ain’t checking for me either.”

  “Girl one of them is and he is a sweetheart.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I like Logan.”

  “So basically you walking around here with Idris Elba and you give me James Corden.”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  “The guy that does carpool karaoke.”

  “Never seen it. Is that some White people shit?” She usually knew pop culture stuff.

  “Why are you always making me question our friendship?”

  “Ms. Miles, you too damn sensitive. Looks ain’t every damn thing. You shouldn’t be like that.”

  “I’m not. I just don’t know why I got to force myself to like someone I don’t like in that way.”

  “You like Logan.”

  “Not romantically.”

  “Did they bury his daddy?”

  “Yeah, the funeral was yesterday.”

  “Oh poor Logan, send him my condolences when you talk to him. I’m going to make him some peach cobbler.”

  “Would you? We love your peach cobbler.”

  “It’s for him. Not you. You are always arguing with me when you know I’m always right.”

  “No you’re not. But I still love you.”

  “So for real, for real, you not going to give him some when he comes home?”

  “No.”

  “His father died.”

  “Damn you’re so mean.”

  “I have a good reason. Men have been shitting on me for years. I will never let that happen again.”

  “Well it sounds good but you know things don’t work like that.”

  “I swear. If I say left. You say right. If I say good morning, you say goodnight.”

  “Girl give that man some of that old tired stretched up pussy. You are going to be sick as a dog when he gets a girlfriend.”

  “Logan is not checking for anybody.”

  “Okay fine. You have him wrapped around your finger. He is your loyal and devoted follower right now.”

  “Yes, he is. That’s my not-boyfriend. I know what I’m doing.”

  I hated how Sheba got under my skin. She had a way of making me think about things I didn’t want to think about.

  I liked having Logan where he was. Right on the shelf jammed in between platonic and friend zone. Things were perfect the way they were. I could pull him out and play with him when I felt like it.

  I was at the gym trying to clear my head not jumble it with all this Logan and me talk. I tried to keep up with Sheba but she always burned more calories than me. I wondered what I would do if Logan got a girlfriend. It wouldn’t be soon. He would be grieving his loss. I was going to be there for him. I missed him.

  ***

  The next day was laundry day. Being alone in my apartment for hours made me stir crazy. I didn’t want to watch Netflix alone. Logan was my chill buddy. I had too many dirty clothes to sit around and sulk. I started two loads over an hour ago. It was time to put them in the dryer.

  I rounded the corner and entered the laundry room. I had two loads of clothes in two of the heavy top loading machines. If I timed it right they should have stopped by now. Logan usually accompanied me to the laundry room because we did our laundry together. He had become such a huge part of my life.

  “Hey.” I turned to the voice that startled me right out of my skin. A tall muscular Black man walked in the room. I looked him over to see if he was a threat. I felt a little bad about being on guard and automatically thinking he was up to something. I felt this way because he was Black like me. I was stereotyping a brother and not at all proud of it. He was smiling at me but that didn’t mean much. I was all alone in the basement laundry room with this stranger. He was a good-looking stranger with caramel skin, a nice fade, and goatee.

  “Hey.” I tried to sound cool as I could as I watched him remove clothes from the middle washing machine and place them in the dryer.

  “I live in apartment three-twelve.” He offered information.

  I exhaled the breath that I had been holding since he walked in. “I haven’t seen you before.” I was still side-eyeing him.

  “I’m new. I’ve been there for two months.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m Kurt.”

  “Kurt, I’m Cheyenne.” I didn’t want to tell him what floor or what apartment number. I didn’t know if he was really even a tenant here. I mentally kicked myself when I realized I told him my real name. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He didn’t have my last name and that was the name on the mailboxes.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” I hoped it would be nice. He was nice to look at.

  “It took forever for Hannah to get back to me and tell me my application was approved. You know Hannah right?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “I’m not trying to brag but my credit score is on point. I thought they just didn’t want any Black people up in here.”

  He must’ve been reading my mind. He gave me just what I needed, Hannah from the rental office’s name. The proof he belongs here, in this building, in this laundry room. In my life.

  “It’s only a few of us in this apartment complex.”

  “True. There’s the old guy that looks like he’s dressed for church every day.”

  “I know who you’re talking about.” He chuckled. “I call him Mr. Head Nod.” Kurt nodded one time in my directi
on.

  I laughed out loud. I knew whom he was talking about. “Yeah I know who you’re talking about. He drives the black Cadillac.”

  “Yes, yes that’s him.”

  “Then there is the lady with the little baby,” I added.

  “I don’t think I know her but I’ve seen you around, you and your boyfriend.”

  “I broke up with my boyfriend three months ago. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Really? I see with the same guy all the time. I thought y’all lived together.”

  “Oh, Logan. We work together. We’re coworkers. He lives here. His place is on the second floor.”

  “I thought you two were together.”

  “No, no Logan just works with me.” Why was I demoting Logan from friend to measly old coworker?

  “What do you do, for work?”

  “I work for a mortgage company. What do you do?” I raised an eyebrow. If he said rapper or pharmaceutical sales rep, which was code for drug dealer, I was going to fall out and die.

  “I’m a graphic designer.”

  Oh, my. He has a real job. “Oh, that’s cool.” I sound stupid.

  “It’s not glamorous but I like it.”

  “That’s all that matters.” I was running out of things to say.

  “So ‘em you’re single?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “What about you?” My eyes searched his hand for a wedding band.

  “I am too. I would love to take you out to dinner. If you’re interested.”

  “Yeah, that would be cool.” God, I sound clueless. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me out and be so grown up about it. He has swag and he sounded educated.

  “We can exchange numbers.” He removed his cell phone from his back pocket.

  “Okay.”

  I told him my number and he programmed it into his cell. “How do you spell your name?”

  “C-H-E-Y-E-N-N-E.”

  “Okay got it. Are you available this weekend?” He slipped his cell into his pocket.

  “What day?”

  “Saturday night.”