Page 28 of A Reputation Dark & Deadly

Peyton rolled her eyes and was about to shut the door in his face when he caught it with his hand and gave her a somewhat apologetic look. He didn't ask and she didn't make him. She rolled her eyes and opened the door, standing out of his way as he slowly walked into her room.

Even though he was just a man, there was something about his presence that caused the room to feel even smaller. She closed and locked the door behind him and found him looking around her room. There was nothing special about it. The walls were an off-white color she hung a couple of movie posters on including Beetlejuice and Tim Burton's Batman. They were prized possessions of hers and had been framed and hung up in her bedroom back home before she ever got to the University of Newport. His brows perked up, seeming somewhat surprised that these were the things she chose to adorn her wall with. Looking at them now, she supposed it was rather quirky.

Besides her bed and her table, there was no other furniture that she owned in her dorm. There was no kitchen area and the bathrooms were shared and two doors down. Peyton was lucky that her room was one of the bigger ones and close to the bathroom area. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her room, if he felt sorry for the simplicity of it or if he was cataloging things about her, remembering them for a different day.

"What are you doing here?" she finally forced herself to ask.

His eyes dropped to hers, still taking in her room. Which was impossible because she didn't have much to take in.

"You didn't come to class today," he said gruffly. "Either one of them."

His hands were loosely on his hips and somehow, he had more confidence standing in her room than she did. She had no idea how such a thing was possible and she started to feel slightly annoyed by it.

Peyton crossed her arms over her chest. "I sent you an email," she told him.

"I don't check that," he said. He took a step towards her, eyeing her up and down. Not because he was checking her out but because he was skimming over her body with an inquisitive look on his face, as though he wanted to ensure she was okay.

"Oh," Peyton said flatly. "Just another job you have your harem of TAs do for you?" She would have raised a skeptical brow but her head hurt too much to do so.

He shot her a look. "How long are you going to be out for?" he asked, shifting his eyes away so they rested back on her Beetlejuice poster. She could make out his reflection in the glass.

"Why do you care?" she asked, crossing her hands over her chest and cocking her head to the side.

He shot her another look. "You're my only TA," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I wanted to check to see how long you'll be out of fucking commission for."

"Probably for the rest of the week," she told him, her voice croaking as she spoke. She tried to swallow in order to moisten her throat but it just strained it even further. "Guess you're going to correct those blue books by yourself."

He nodded, the tip of his tongue coating the corner of his mouth with moisture. Her eyes narrowed at the gesture and she stared, transfixed.

"Guess so."

Peyton furrowed her brow. "So what are you here for?" she asked, less teasing and more gently.

Logan shrugged his shoulders before slowly walking over to the bed. Peyton's breath got caught in her throat as she watched him take a seat on the edge of the bed. It was such an odd sight, seeing such a powerful, transfixing figure such as Logan Jeffrey sitting on her tiny twin bed. He looked completely out of place, it was almost comical.

"Because I'm positive there's no way you would want to check up on little old me," she continued. She had no idea why she was pushing him, had no idea why she needed to continue to speak when there was nothing really for her to say. Except for the fact that she just wanted to talk to him. She liked that she was checking up on her even if she didn't believe he really was. He didn't look so entirely out of place in her bedroom and that thought, while nerve-racking, was also a little thrilling.

He shot her an exasperated look. "Why do you make me out to be such an asshole?" he asked. His tone was gruff but she could detect an underlying stream of truth to it.

Peyton wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. "Probably because you are one," she pointed out. "Tell me, how many TA's did you check up on when they were sick?"

"I thought you said there was no way I could want to check up on you," he pointed out with an arrogant gleam in his eyes.

Instead of fighting back, she rolled her eyes and took a seat on the bed, a close enough distance away from him.

"I didn't realize you were into weird fucking movies," Logan said, his eyes back on the posters.

"They're not weird, they're quirky," she corrected. "When I was nineteen, I had my wisdom pulled out and I was literally on my mother's couch for three days straight, drinking nothing but Jamba Juice and watching Beetlejuice and The Breakfast Club. It was one of my favorite times. I didn't have to worry about school or anything. I got to do nothing for seventy-two hours and it was glorious."

Logan chuckled. "Spoiled brat," he said.

"Quite the contrary," Peyton said. "That's what a mom should do for their kids, you know. Foster independence but every once in a while be okay with babying their kids."

"Not all moms are like yours, sweetheart," Logan muttered, though he wasn't bitter about it at all.

It was then that Peyton remembered what happened to him. She shook her head internally at her thoughtlessness and she tried to frantically search for something to fill the silence despite the fact that it wasn't awkward. She didn't know if she should pretend not to know or if she should mention hearing about it. She didn't want to write it off like it was nothing but she also didn't feel as if it were her place to say anything anyway.

"Karla might have mentioned" - Peyton began but Logan cut her off.