His one-sided grin appears again, and I strain to see it, as I lean back in the chair with a yawn, checking the time on Logan’s cell. It’s almost midnight and I always worry when Lana is out this late alone. Though she swears the studio is safe, it doesn’t make the situation any better.
“Want some more snacks?” he asks, planting his gigantic hands on the table’s edge.
“I already ate half your bag of Doritos.”
“So?” He gets up, heading for his pantry door.
“So… what if you wake up with a sudden craving for cool ranch and you go for the bag and remember I ate them all? You’ll hate me.”
He grabs a bag of pretzels. “One, I don’t wake up randomly craving Doritos. And two, I can never hate you.”
My chest tightens. “Why are you always so nice to me?”
“Because you make it so easy.” He pops a pretzel in his mouth—a mouth I want to kiss.
“Stop saying sweet things like that.”
He leans down, his arms on either side of my body, and he takes another pretzel from the bag. “I’ll never stop saying nice things to you.”
Where the hell is Lana?
I break the euphoric eye contact, focusing my attention anywhere but on his ocean eyes.
“I’m not coming onto you, Sora. I’m just being honest.”
I swallow. “Fuck it. I’m eating all your pretzels, too.” I reach into the bag, biting a piece of salty goodness. “Oh my God. They’re honey mustard… I’m leaving no crumbs.”
He laughs, pushing off the table, grabbing two waters from the fridge, and I yawn again. “If you’re tired, you can stay. This couch is way more comfortable than the one at the shop, I swear. Better yet, you take my bed, and I’ll sleep down here.”
“I am not taking your bed.”I wonder if it smells like him.
I glance at the oversized gray sofa I sat on once before. Itiscomfy, and these clothes are cozy as hell, too. As the night moves on, I’m finding it harder to keep my eyes open.
“Sora.”
At some point, I must have laid my head down because someone is whispering my name in my ear. The voice is sexy and masculine.
“Sora.”
There it is again. Buttery smooth.
“Mmm,” I respond, keeping the side of my face plastered to the table.
I’m being lifted from my chair. My face no longer smashed against the grain of wood, but now against Logan’s chest. I force my eyes open, staring at the magnificent view that is Logan as he carries me somewhere, anywhere. I honestly don’t care.
“You’re warm.” I nuzzle my face closer to his chest, and when he smirks, I mentally curse myself for speaking that aloud.
He gently sets me on the couch, my eyes already closing as soon as I lie my head down on the pillow. “Sleep, dove.”
Sleep.Sleep sounds nice.
It’s dark when I open my eyes except for a small light off to the right.
Logan’s place is like being wrapped in a warm blanket. I’m conflicted. Do I murder my best friend who purposely sabotaged me, or do I hug her because being here makes me feel all kinds of things? Warm, fuzzy things.
But if I don’t pee, my bladder will explode. I swing my legs off the sofa, making a beeline for the stairs but my foot collides with a hard object. I go tumbling forward, my full weight almost crushing the person underneath. Luckily, Logan catches me.
Our faces are a breath apart when he slowly lets me go, and my body lowers on top of his. I blink, staring into a pair of eyes I know so well.
