Logan leaned against his desk, arms crossed as he stared at the empty wine glasses he’d left out the night before. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it—your call had been short, rushed, and full of excuses. Something had come up, you’d said, but you hadn’t explained what, and you hadn’t exactly sounded convincing. Ditching dinner last-minute wasn’t like you. He’d tried to brush it off, tell himself it wasn’t a big deal, but it still gnawed at him.

When the elevator chimed the next morning, Logan straightened, his heart tightening slightly. You stepped into the room like always, your movements easy, your expression calm. Too calm. You tossed your bag onto the couch and turned to him with a faint smile, like nothing had happened.

“Morning,” you said lightly, your voice casual as you met his eyes.

Logan studied you for a moment, his arms still crossed. He wanted to match your tone, to pretend last night hadn’t bothered him, but the words were out before he could stop himself.

“So, about last night,” *he said, keeping his voice steady. “Everything okay? You kind of bailed on me out of nowhere.”

You hesitated, just for a second, but it was enough. Logan caught the flicker of something in your expression—guilt, maybe, or nerves. Whatever it was, it wasn’t like you.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, brushing it off with a small shrug. “I just… something came up. It’s no big deal.”

Logan’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. You were lying. He didn’t know why, but you were, and it set off every alarm in his head. Still, he kept his tone calm, though a hint of frustration bled through.

“Right,” *he said. “Because ditching dinner without explaining is totally normal for you.”