Free Surrounded (Unsettled Series Book 2) by S.C. Ellington Page A

yet another voicemail from Logan. As soon as I saw his name my mood sunk another five degrees. If I pretended Logan didn’t exist, maybe he wouldn’t.
    I only lasted ten minutes before my resolve crumbled completely. As much as I tried to fool myself, I wanted to know what Logan could possibly have to say for himself. I abandoned preparing breakfast and grabbed my phone, making a bee line for the backyard for privacy. Still in my pajamas and a pair of flip flops, I plopped down on the wooden stairs of the porch and let the cool morning breeze play in my limp hair. The last time I sat out here Logan had wrapped his arms around me and assured me that everything would be alright. That he would be the one to pick up all the pieces that Damon had left behind. Liar.
    After stalling for a few more minutes, I plucked up the courage to slide my thumb over the voicemail icon on my phone. I placed the phone to my ear and waited for Logan’s voice to come through the speaker. What made me think that hearing his sexy voice was a good idea?
    Brooklyn, where are you? What is going on?
    Brooklyn, call me! Don’t ignore me!
    He’d shouted his last message. I pulled the phone away from my ear.
    “Wow,” I muttered. I sat my phone on the wooden plank.
    Logan had never raised his voice at me so that surprised me a little bit. If anything, he was the more level-headed of the two of us.
    I knew there was a reason why I’d prolonged avoiding a relationship. Loving someone pretty much sucked.
    Just then I heard the sliding glass door open. I turned around to see Alex standing in the doorway wearing one of Jay’s oversized shirts and her infamous flannel pajama pants.
    “Hey B, you quit on breakfast?” she asked, smoothing out her bed head. “What are you doing out here?”
    “Just checking voicemails” I replied.
    “It’s kind of chilly out here. You aren’t cold?” she asked, surprised. I was usually the one who wanted the heater on eighty in the car. She was right. It was slightly breezy out. My brain had ignored the chill since the only thing registering right now was Logan’s voicemails.
    “I guess I’m telepathically channeling next week’s eighty degree weather,” I offered as an excuse.
    “Weirdo. Be right back” she said, as she ducked back into the house. A few minutes later she reappeared with a sweater draped over her arm and two steaming mugs topped with whipped cream in both hands.
    “I come bearing gifts,” she said with a weak smile.
    I pulled the sweater out of her grasp and slid it on. “Thanks.” She handed me one of the cups.  “Here.”
    “What is it?” I asked, accepting my mug.
    “Dark chocolate.” She took a seat next to me. My stomach growled again as I blew the steam away from my face.
    “Hungry much?” she commented in response to the noise. 
    I took a small sip from my cup, “I know. I was in the middle of cooking breakfast, but lost my urge. Not really feeling it. You might have to settle for cereal.”
    “Really, Brooklyn? You think that’s what I’m wondering at the moment, where the scrambled eggs, hash browns and orange juice are hiding? Someone needs to get real,” she huffed, pulling her knees close to her chest. I let out a low exhale.
    Here we go.
    “Are you going to tell me what happened last night?” she asked. I guess there was no warming up to the topic, just jumping in head first. Typical Alex style—face the beast head on; no finesse necessary. “One minute we’re dancing, looking glam, the next we’re on the George Washington with you curled up in a ball in the back seat of Jay’s car. What happened in the bathroom?”
    I knew I owed her some sort of explanation for my dramatic Cinderella exit, sans the glass slipper.
    She sipped her cocoa as she waited for me to speak. When I didn’t say anything, she continued. “Jay wants to know if he needs to kick Logan’s ass. Although Logan doesn’t strike me as the fighting type.” I didn’t know if Jay was all