Chapter Seven
It was surprisingly fine.
Logan wouldn’t have taken that bet, but the two-hour hike back down the mountain helped take the edge off the fact he’d just blown their relationship to a whole new place—a weird, unwanted place for Tori—and he’d spent the time giving himself a serious lecture about manning up.
She didn’t want him to be her vacation fling.
That wasn’t news.
And it had to be okay.
So when they arrived back at the resort, he pulled her into his arms for a hug—a regular hug. He locked away all the stupid things he wanted to say to her and gave her the most platonic squeeze he could manage, then kissed her temple. “Go get dolled up. I’ll head over to reception and see if we can get a dinner reservation for one of the resort restaurants.”
“I don’t mind if it’s later,” she said, tilting her face up to his. “I could handle a nap before we eat.”
“Later it will be.” He flashed her a totally cool grin, which she returned, pleasant surprise dancing across her face.
See? Fine.
He left her at their villa and hit the reception desk, got a reservation, and then circled past the gift shop in the lobby to get some chocolate. Not fancy chocolate, but M&Ms and shit like that.
Best friend chocolate.
Sorry for kissing you, let’s talk about hilarious memories from high school chocolate.
Except he wasn’t sorry, and she didn’t want him to be sorry, so it was just…Hey, wow, isn’t this complicated? Here. Have chocolate.
That would work.
The villa was quiet when he returned. Tori’s door was ajar, so he knocked quietly and stuck his head inside. She was curled up on the bed, softly snoring. She’d showered and changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt.
His chest throbbed. Damn, he wanted to curl up with her.
Instead, he took a quick shower and stretched out on his own bed.
She came to find him an hour and a half later, still dressed in her comfy clothes. “Hey,” she said from his doorway. Her gaze flitted over him and around the room, then back to him. Nervous but not shy.
He stretched his arms out wide and gave her a lazy, warm grin. No reason to be nervous. “Dinner reservation is at eight.”
“Lots of time, still.”
He nodded.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Beach for sure. Hit the market in town, too?”
“Definitely.” She leaned back, holding on to the doorframe. Like she was stretching out her back.
“You sore?”
“Nah.”
“Come here. I’ll rub your neck.”
She raised her eyebrows and he felt a surge of heat—that he had every intention of ignoring.
“And just your neck.”
