No matter what she said to Logan about rebounding, she couldn’t sleep with someone because she had a moment of weakness.
But what they’d done beneath the waterfall…it hadn’t felt like a kiss for kissing’s sake.
Then why did you kiss me today?
Because I was weak.
She jerked upright and shoved her blankets off her legs. She’d completely misunderstood him. Or at least, she was pretty sure…
“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” She tripped over her feet as she tried to jump out of bed, suddenly quite certain their conversation two nights before had gone in the wrong direction. She stopped in the bathroom to take her pill and brush her teeth, then was out her bedroom door before she realized that she was only wearing a thin tank top and a pair of tiny sleep shorts.
Well, did it really matter? He’d seen her in less.
Hell, he’d kissed her in less.
But now that she was standing in front of his bedroom door, her momentary bravado was sliding fast and furiously away.
Maybe she needed coffee.
Yes.
Coffee.
Because what if she was wrong?
She ran to the living room and opened the door to the villa. Sure enough, the magical creatures that delivered their breakfast had already been there, and she brought in the rolling cart with the covered trays and the precious carafe of strong, black goodness.
She poured herself a cup and took a long, fortifying sip. Then another and another, until the mug was empty.
“Is that breakfast?” Logan rumbled from the hallway.
She spun around. He was wearing…also not much. Her heart skipped a beat as he stretched his arms wide, then scrubbed his fingers through his hair. His abs and chest and shoulders all rippled as he went through the waking-up process right in front of her, and the cargo shorts he’d pulled on—but not fully buttoned up—rode low enough on his hips that she could see the indentation of the muscles there.
“Yep. Coffee?”
He nodded, but didn’t move any closer.
She poured him a mug and added his preferred half-a-spoon of sugar and tiny splash of cream. Her heart pounding, she took it over to him. “Here. And…good morning.”
He looked at the mug in her extended hand, then back up to her face. Up close, she could see he hadn’t slept well, either, and his face was tight and serious. “Morning.”
He didn’t take the coffee. “I wasn’t expecting you up this early, after the way we hit it hard last night.”
“I, uh, couldn’t sleep. I did for a bit, and then I was up. Thinking. How’d you sleep?”
“Like shit.” He grimaced. “I was thinking, too.”
“I’ll just put this down for you.” She set the mug down on the nearest counter, then turned back to him—and found him very, very close.
Not touching. But close and warm and big, and—
It would be so much easier if she could only stop thinking about his body, she told herself.You never thought about it before yesterday. Go back to that. You’re an expert in not noticing how sexy he is.
But his eyes were dark, bottomless pools that pulled her in and wouldn’t let her go. “I don’t have a lot of practice at this,” he said, his voice full of gravel. “Talking. Feelings.”
She forced herself to take a step back. Her chest ached. Yes, she wanted to burrow into his chest and let him hold her and tell her it would all work out.
But she wasn’t sure that was what was going to happen, so until she was sure, she was staying safely out of touching range.
