“I didn’t—” I break off, frustrated. “You just flipped a switch and shut me out like I meant nothing.”
Logan scoffs. “You think I could pretend you meannothingif I tried?”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I bite, stepping toward him now. “No winks. No flirting. Just silence. Just fucking professionalism.”
“I didn’t know what the fuck youwanted,Todd!”
“Iwanted you!” I shout, the words torn from me before I can think.
My voice echoes off the stairwell walls, loud and raw. Logan’s mouth parts, eyes wide like I just punched him in the chest. I almost wish I had.
Instead, I step up to the landing, and I shove him.
He stumbles back, catches himself, then shoves me right the fuck back, hard enough I hit the railing.
My pulse spikes. “You said we’d keep it a secret. I agreed. I showed up in the fucking showers. And then you disappeared like it never happened.”
“You think that was easy for me?” he yells. “You think it didn’t kill me to see you walking around acting like it didn’t matter?! Like it was just a fun littleexperiment?”
I growl and shove him again. “It didn’t mean nothing.”
“Then why the fuck did you waitfour daysto say anything?”
“Because I was trying tofigure it out!” My chest heaves. “Trying to make sense of all the shit in my head—how badly I wanted to message you, how much I hated the way you looked at Daniel like you were already moving on?—”
His face twists, furious. “That wasn’t abouthim!I was trying to distract myself because I thoughtyoudidn’t want me!”
His hands slam into my shoulders this time, and he pushes me back against the wall, breathing hard. His chest brushes mine. His eyes burn.
“I wanted you,” he says again, lower now. “Iwantyou.”
My heart hammers. “Then why was there agirlin your apartment?”
“She’s mycousin,asshole. She brought back my charger and asked to hang for a minute while I showered.”
Fuck.
My head tips back against the wall as I suck in a sharp breath, hot and shaky.
“I thought—” I start.
“Yeah,” he cuts in, stepping even closer. “You thought wrong.”
His lips are right there.His body lined up with mine. My hands curl in his shirtless sides, my jaw clenching like it might hold everything else in.
I’m one second from kissing him.
Or hitting him again.
Maybe both.
My fists clench. My throat burns.
And I shove him again.
Harder this time. Not just to make a point, but because the anger is too much—twisting inside me, white-hot andblinding. He stumbles back a step, catches himself, and then grabs my hoodie in both fists.
“You really wanna do this?” he growls, chest brushing mine.
