He Gave Everyone a Key but Me Chapter 01

Logan Mercer had just moved into his new place and invited a few friends over for a housewarming party.

A few rounds of drinks later, someone called out, “Come on, man, give Claire a key already!”

“You’ve been together five years. Time to build a real home together.”

“Logan, aren’t you gonna do something tonight?”

Logan pulled out a key ring and dangled it under the lights.

My fingertips trembled slightly.

With a grin, he handed the keys out one by one—to the guys sitting across from him.

“Alright, knock it off. You’re helping me install cabinets the day after tomorrow.”

“And you,” he said, pointing at another friend, “quit showing up at my door at two in the morning like a worn-out zombie.”

Then he slipped an arm around my shoulders and lowered his voice.

“Your apartment’s closer to work. No need to go through the hassle right now. We’ll talk about the key later.”

Later.

The word rolled off his tongue way too easily, like he’d already said them a hundred times before.

I lowered my head and peeled an orange, my nails digging into the rind until juice coated my hands.

Logan had no idea that I wasn’t waiting for his key anymore, because another man had already given me one, along with a ring.

…

“Logan, why’s Claire over there peeling oranges without eating any?”

One of the guys who’d just gotten a key laughed.

Logan glanced down at me. He grabbed a napkin and naturally wiped the orange juice from my fingers.

“Her stomach’s been acting up lately. She shouldn’t eat too much acidic stuff.”

His tone was gentle, carrying just the right amount of concern.

The room immediately erupted with teasing.

“Still taking care of her like always.”

“Claire, the guy even remembers your stomach issues. You’ve got it good.”

I stared at my cleaned fingertips and said nothing.

The sliding kitchen door suddenly opened, and Tinsley Hart walked out carrying a two-tier fruit tray.

“Mr. Mercer, I changed the trash bags in the kitchen and finished cutting the fruit.”

She wore a cream-colored knit sweater with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, a few beads of sweat still lingering on her forehead.

Tinsley was the executive assistant Logan had hired just last month.

For today’s housewarming party, she’d been here since the afternoon under the excuse of “helping with the setup.”

Logan released his arm from around me and stood to take the tray from her.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop working? The housekeeper could’ve handled all this.”

“The fruit she cuts is always too big. It’s harder for you to eat.”

Tinsley stuck out her tongue playfully and flashed a sweet smile, then she naturally slipped into the empty seat beside Logan.

Logan picked up a fork and speared a bright golden piece of fruit before holding it to my lips.

“Try this. It’s sweet.”

I finally saw what was on the fork.

Mango.

“Mr. Mercer, I picked those out myself. They’re incredibly sweet.”

Tinsley chimed in from the side, her eyes sparkling as she looked at me.

“You should give it a try, Ms. Gibson.”

I didn’t open my mouth. My gaze shifted from the mango to Logan’s face.

He held the fork there, a gentle encouragement in his eyes.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“I’m allergic to mangoes.”

My voice was quiet as I met his gaze.

Logan’s hand froze midair. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes before his brows knit slightly together.

“Allergic? Since when?”

“I’ve always been allergic.”

Five years, and yet he had never remembered that.

Because Tinsley loved mangoes, somewhere in the back of his mind he’d convinced himself they were everyone’s favorite thing.

“Oh no!” Tinsley suddenly gasped.

She covered her mouth and jumped to her feet, panic written all over her face.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Gibson. I didn’t know you were allergic.”

“Mr. Mercer buys mangoes for the office all the time, so I thought…”

She bit her lip, and her eyes instantly turned red.

“Did I just make things worse trying to help?”

Logan immediately pulled the fork back and popped the mango into his own mouth.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

Then he turned to me.

“You could’ve mentioned the allergy earlier. Now Tinsley’s feeling bad for no reason.”

There was the faintest trace of blame in his voice, as if I were the one embarrassing Tinsley in front of everyone.

“Logan Mercer, cut the act already!”

Amanda Brooks strode across the room and yanked me off the couch.