CHAPTER 2

Logan turned and looked at her, the cigarette dangling casually between his fingers.

Ava felt herself freeze under the intensity of his gaze. Flustered, she forced a small smile.

He smirked, slow and easy, as if he already knew exactly the effect he was having.

"Well, hello, beautiful lady," he said, his voice a smooth, low drawl.

She blushed, caught completely off guard, and mumbled, "Hello."

He tilted his head slightly, studying her with those steel-gray eyes.

"Not enjoying the party?" he asked, taking a slow drag from his cigarette.

Ava shifted awkwardly, clutching the strap of her purse. "Oh, I just came up for some fresh air. It's a little… crazy down there."

A soft chuckle escaped him, rich and lazy. He lifted his cigarette between two fingers and said, "If it's fresh air you're looking for, I'm not sure I'm the best company."

He motioned toward the faint trail of smoke curling from his hand.

Ava shrugged, a real smile tugging at her lips. "I don't mind. You were here first. No need to stop just because of me."

He lifted an eyebrow, as if weighing her words. Then, with a small smirk, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it with the heel of his boot.

"Oh, but I insist," he said smoothly.

Ava's smile widened despite herself. 

Logan leaned back against the rooftop railing and crooked a finger at her, smirking.

"Come closer. I don't bite."

Ava hesitated a second before stepping toward him, the worn rooftop concrete crunching lightly under her heels. He was standing right at the edge, the city lights sprawling out behind him like a sea of stars.

She let out a slow sigh, folding her arms.

Logan tilted his head, studying her.

"What's on your mind?" he asked casually.

Ava narrowed her eyes at him, half-amused, half-wary.

"What is this, an interrogation?" she teased. "Besides, you're a stranger. Wouldn't be smart of me to start unloading my life problems on someone I just met."

He laughed, the sound warm and surprisingly genuine.

"Well, close friends were once strangers, weren't they?" he said with a wink. "Who knows? We might be strangers now, but by the end of this party… we could be friends."

Ava smirked despite herself. "True."

Logan gestured lightly with his hand. "So, go on."

She hesitated, then sighed again, leaning against the railing beside him.

"Well… I broke up with my ex recently. Obvious reasons. He cheated on me—with the one person he told me not to worry about."

Logan winced, flicking an invisible speck of ash from his sleeve.

"Yikes. That sounds brutal."

"Yeah," Ava said, forcing a half-smile. "I tried to forgive him, I really did. But… it's hard."

Logan turned his body slightly toward her, his gaze steady.

"You don't owe anyone forgiveness," he said simply. "You're a beautiful woman. You could have any man you wanted. His mistakes don't define your worth."

Ava let out a small, dry laugh.

"Well, if he cheated on me, maybe he didn't see all that much worth in me, no matter what you say."

An awkward silence settled between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. The night air was cool against her skin, carrying the distant hum of traffic and music from downstairs.

She decided to turn the tables.

"What about you?" she asked, quirking a brow. "Out here alone, smoking one of the leading causes of an early grave. Sounds a little broody to me."

Logan chuckled, his grin lazy and self-deprecating.

"Well, that's one way to put it. I did, however, turn off my cigarette just for you. That's gotta count for something, right?"

Logan leaned his arms against the railing, the night wind brushing through his hair.

"Well," he said with a shrug, "if you must know, I'm out here brooding because of family issues. Financial ones."

Ava blinked, surprised. She glanced him up and down—perfectly tailored slacks, clean brown shirt, expensive-looking watch glinting on his wrist.

"What do you mean financial?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't exactly look like you're struggling."

Logan smirked, tapping his fingers lightly against the metal railing.

"Looks can be deceiving, sweetheart. Just because we're struggling doesn't mean I have to look like my problems."

Ava laughed—a genuine, soft laugh that lit up her face.

"Touché."

As the night stretched on, the awkwardness between them melted into an easy rhythm. They stood side by side, swapping bits of their lives like two old friends.

"So, what about you?" Logan asked, flicking his gaze sideways at her. "Besides dealing with heartbreak and offering rooftop therapy sessions."

Ava grinned. "I'm a theatre major. Twenty-four years old. I'm usually singing or dancing when I'm not buried in scripts. And I have a couple of cool part-time jobs to keep me afloat."

Logan nodded appreciatively. "Singing and dancing? You sound way cooler than me."

She laughed again, the tension in her chest loosening a little more with every second.

"And you?" she prompted. "Aside from the smoking and rooftop brooding, what do you do?"

Logan flashed a grin but didn't answer right away, instead letting the question hang between them like a playful challenge.

Well," he said with a casual shrug, "if you have to know, I'm out here dealing with some family issues. Financial ones."

Ava Morgan blinked, caught off guard. She let her eyes sweep over him—perfectly fitted brown shirt, crisp slacks, expensive watch glinting under the rooftop lights.

She tilted her head and smirked.

"What do you mean, financial issues? You don't exactly look like someone struggling to pay bills."

Logan Carter chuckled, deep and easy.

"Looks can be deceiving, Ava. Just because things are rough doesn't mean I have to look like my problems."

Ava laughed, shaking her head.

"True. You definitely don't give off broke energy."

The tension between them eased with the night breeze. As minutes passed, they fell into an easy rhythm, talking like old friends.

"So, tell me more about you," Logan said, tapping his fingers lightly on the metal railing. "Besides being beautiful and wandering onto rooftops."

Ava grinned, finally relaxing.

"Well, Mr. Broody," she teased, "I'm Ava Morgan. I'm a theatre major at Eastbridge University. Twenty-four years old. I sing, I dance, I act, and when I'm not losing sleep over finals, I juggle a couple of part-time jobs to keep my dreams alive as I said earlier."

Logan raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"Future Broadway star, huh?"

She laughed. "We'll see about that."

"And you?" Ava nudged him lightly with her elbow. "Besides rooftop smoking and mysterious smiles, what's your story?"

Logan flashed that lazy grin again but didn't answer immediately.

"Let's just say… I'm in between things right now," he said, a little too casually. "Trying to keep the family business afloat. It's not as glamorous as it sounds."

Ava raised an eyebrow but didn't press. She sensed there was more beneath the surface—and for tonight, she was okay leaving it there.

For now, Logan Carter was just the handsome stranger on a rooftop making her forget all about heartbreak and broken promises.

And for Ava Morgan, that was more than enough.

The music pounded through the walls, the bass making the floor thrum beneath Hanna's heels. She was laughing, dancing with a group of guys who were clearly trying to impress her, tossing back her hair and letting herself get lost in the wild energy of the night. A drink in her hand, her cheeks flushed, Hanna looked every bit like a queen reigning over her little circle, smiling majestically at the world.

But in the middle of a laugh, something tugged at her mind—a little whisper of worry.

Where's Ava?

Hanna paused mid-spin, her smile faltering. She glanced around the crowded living room, scanning over heads and colorful flashing lights. No sign of her friend. She craned her neck, pushing past sweaty dancers, but Ava's familiar figure was nowhere to be seen.

She bit her lip, trying to brush it off. Maybe she just went to the bathroom. Maybe she's getting some air.

But after ten more minutes of looking and not seeing her, Hanna's stomach twisted.

She set down her drink and started moving through the house, asking around casually at first.

"Hey, have you seen a girl? About this tall, brown hair, killer smile?"

Most people just shook their heads or shrugged, too wrapped up in their own buzzed happiness to care.

Panic rising, Hanna widened her search. She checked the kitchen, the hallways, even outside on the front porch where a couple of stoners were lounging. Nothing.

"Damn it, Ava," she muttered under her breath, heading toward the backyard.

She checked behind the garage, near the garden fence where some couples were making out in the shadows. Still no sign. Hanna's heart pounded. She knew Ava had been fragile lately—she shouldn't have let her wander off alone.

She cut through the side path to the back of the house, determined not to leave without finding her.

And that's when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her.

There, up on the rooftop terrace.

Relief flooded Hanna so fast she almost sagged against the wall.

Thank God.

She was about to call out, but then she noticed—Ava wasn't alone.

There was a guy with her, leaning casually against the railing. They were standing close, talking, laughing, completely wrapped up in each other.

Hanna's heart squeezed with happiness at first.

Ava's smiling. She's laughing. Maybe tonight's actually doing her good.

She grinned, ready to tease her about finding a rooftop Romeo.

But as she walked closer, curiosity sharpening, the guy turned slightly—just enough for the light to catch his face.

Hanna froze mid-step, her smile dropping.

Logan Carter.

Her blood ran cold.

She knew him. They had met once before, months ago, through mutual friends. And Hanna hadn't liked him then, not one bit. There was something about him—too slick, too smooth, the kind of guy who could break your heart and never even lose sleep over it.

She had warned her friends about guys like him.

And now, of all the guys at this damn party, it was Logan Carter who had found his way to Ava.

Hanna clenched her fists at her sides, anger flaring hot and fast.

How could Ava—sweet, brokenhearted Ava—be falling for him of all people?

She stormed forward across the rooftop, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her heart raced, partly from panic, partly from rage. She didn't care how charming he looked, or how much Ava was laughing—she wasn't about to let her best friend fall into another disaster waiting to happen.

As she got closer, Ava looked up and caught sight of her, her smile faltering at the sight of Hanna's furious face.

Logan, lazy and amused, merely lifted an eyebrow, as if he found the interruption entertaining.

Hanna didn't even try to hide the storm brewing behind her eyes.

Not tonight.

Not her best friend.

Not Logan Carter.