I tell myself I don't care.
I tell myself it's ridiculous to care.
Logan has known me since I had braces and cried over math homework. He's Daniel's best friend. He's older and has more experience.
The pretty girl with her hand on his arm?
She makes more sense.
I repeat that to myself the entire walk home.
Maya split off after lunch, promising to text me about a study group. Daniel got pulled into a conversation about some campus soccer league.
Which leaves Logan and me.
Alone...
Again...
The walk back to the apartment is quieter than usual.
Not awkward just charged.
"You survived," he says casually, hands in his pockets.
"Barely."
He huffs a soft laugh. "Drama already?"
"No. Just information overload."
"Well Welcome to college."
We stop at a crosswalk. A group of students passes in front of us, loud and carefree.
I hesitate.
Then...
"That girl seemed nice."
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
Logan glances at me. "What girl?"
"The one who was practically attached to you."
His expression shifts not amused, not defensive.
Just… aware.
"Her name's Ava."
I nod once. "She seemed comfortable."
"With what?"
"With you."
He studies me for a second too long.
"She's in one of my classes."
"Mm."
The light turns green. We start walking again.
"You don't like her?" he asks.
I stiffen slightly. "I don't know her."
"That wasn't my question."
I hate that he can hear things in my voice that I don't mean to put there.
"I just met her," I say lightly. "Why would I care?"
He stops walking.
I take two more steps before realizing and turning back.
He's watching me in that same measured way from last night.
Carefully guarded.
"You tell me," he says quietly.
The air between us tightens.
I swallow. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
His jaw shifts like he's biting back something.
Then he starts walking again, slower this time.
"You don't get to be mad about that," he says after a moment.
"Mad about what?"
"About who I talk to."
"I'm not mad."
"You were glaring."
"I was not."
He raises an eyebrow.
I hate that he's right.
"It's just…" I start, then stop.
Say it. Don't say it. Say it. Don't.
"It's weird."
"What is?"
"Last night you acted like…" I lower my voice. "Like there are complications."
"There are."
"And then today you're laughing with someone who clearly wants to climb you."
His steps falter for half a second.
"Climb me?"
"You know what I mean."
A slow, dangerous smile curves at the corner of his mouth.
"You were paying that much attention?"
Heat floods my face.
"That's not the point."
"It kind of is."
We reach the apartment building. He opens the door and gestures for me to go first.
I don't.
We stand there for a second, neither moving.
"You don't get jealous," he says quietly.
My heart slams against my ribs.
"I'm not jealous."
"Good."
The word lands harder than it should.
Because it sounds like a boundary.
Like a warning.
Something stubborn rises inside me.
"Would it bother you?" I ask.
"If what bothered me?"
"If I were laughing with some guy the way she was laughing with you?"
His expression changes instantly.
The teasing disappears.
His shoulders tense.
"That's different."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"No. I don't."
"Yes, you do."
I step closer before I can talk myself out of it.
"Because I'm Daniel's sister?" I challenge.
His jaw tightens.
"That's part of it."
"What's the other part?"
He doesn't answer.
But his eyes drop to my mouth again.
And this time he doesn't look away immediately.
The hallway feels smaller.
The space between us is thinner.
"I don't like the idea of some random guy touching you," he says finally.
My breath catches.
"That sounds a lot like jealousy."
"It's not."
"What is it then?"
"Instinct."
I almost laugh. "You don't get protective instincts over me."
His eyes flash.
"Don't tell me what I get."
The intensity in his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
A door down the hallway opens suddenly. Laughter spills out. Someone walks past us.
The moment fractures.
Again.
Logan steps back first this time.
"We're not doing this," he mutters.
"Doing what?"
"This."
His hand gestures vaguely between us.
I cross my arms. "You're the one who keeps bringing it up."
"No. I'm the one trying to shut it down."
That stings.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"I want to hear you say it."
His silence stretches.
Then...
"Because if we start something," he says low enough that only I can hear, "it doesn't just affect us."
The weight of that sinks in.
Daniel.
"And if we don't?" I ask softly.
His gaze softens for just a second.
"Then nobody gets hurt."
The words feel like a lie.
Because something already is.
He unlocks the apartment door and steps inside.
I follow.
Daniel is sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
"How was it?" he asks without looking up.
"Fine," we both answer at the same time.
Our eyes meet.
Daniel glances between us suspiciously. "Why do you both look like you just ran a marathon?"
"Heat," Logan says flatly.
I turn away so they don't see the color in my face.
Later that night, when I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling again, I replay everything.
The girl.
The crosswalk.
The hallway.
I don't like the idea of some random guy touching you.
It wasn't casual, brotherly, or neutral.
And that's the problem.
Because we're pretending there's a line.
But today proved something undeniable.
The line isn't where we thought it was.
And worse?
I think we're both standing right on it.