“Great. Who will you call to help me? Specifically?”
I looked desperately at Logan. The jerk was choking on silent laughter.FEMA, he mouthed, and it took all my power not to roll my eyes. Some help he was.
“The, uh, Department of... Pestilence... Mitigation?”
The woman considered for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction and strode from the mic. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hi.” The next woman’s voice trembled with nerves. “My name is Gabby Bui. My middle school is located in a conservative district, and I found out we’re banning a book that addresses sexuality in what I believe is a frank and helpful way. Parents have complained to the city council that teaching kids about things like masturbation and how their bodies are going to change during puberty is too graphic, but I think they’re stigmatizing what’s natural.” She took a deep breath. “I guess my question is, could there be additional funding to strengthen the Library Council’s anti-censorship committee? I’m not blaming anyone, because I know you’re all as busy as I am, but it’s been hard to fight back. And I can’t do it on my own.”
I had yet to deal with a book banning issue, for which I thanked my lucky stars. “Absolutely,” I said, without thinking twice. “The campaign will see what we can do to bolster the Library Council’s anti-censorship efforts. It’s critical we defend First Amendment rights.” From the front row, Logan gave me a discreet thumbs-up.
Relief flooded Gabby’s face. “Thank you. It’s been a lonely road.”
“Don’t worry. We’re with you.”
“Hi,” said the man who stepped up to take Gabby’s place. “Gregory Dillinger. Mine is a six-part question, but I need to preface it with a story.”
“Great,” I said, lifting my chin. “Hit me.” Because you know what? I was kind of nailing this.
Waving goodbye to the last of the conference organizers—each of whom wanted their own selfie with him—Logan shut the door to the greenroom and leaned against it, dropping his head back against the wood. He met my eyes and a lazy grin spread over his face. “Alexis Stone. Political fucking dynamo.”
“I’m just glad it’s over.” I flopped onto the couch, lying down and kicking off my heels, letting my bare feet dangle over the arm. As Nora had promised, a few hours in those shoes and I’d stopped feeling my toes.
Logan walked over and stood at the arm of the couch, near my feet, grinning down at me. “Remember when you wished everyone good morning?”
“Can it, jerk.” Forgetting any sense of propriety—I was drunk on the sheer relief of being offstage—I kicked his thigh, hard enough to make him take a step back. Instead of swatting me away, Logan snagged my foot.
“Hey!” My momentary playfulness was replaced by a jolt of alarm. He was touching me. It was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. I tried to kick free, but he only caught my other foot. He might’ve been standing while I was lying down, but the gesture felt wildly intimate.
“For real,” he said. “You killed it.”
I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but...public speaking gives me hives.” I peeked out from between my fingers.
He rubbed his thumbs idly over my arches and I tried not to think about how good it felt, the sudden return of sensation after the heels. “Yeah,” he said. “I definitely knew that.”
“What gave me away?”
He frowned. “Pretty much everything, from the beginning. Most recently, though, it was when you handed me smelling salts backstage and made me promise to use them on you when you fainted. Not if you fainted. When.”
“You knew this and you said yes to me being your education spokesperson?”
His fingers slipped under the silky fabric of my slacks, circling my ankles. The slight touch crackled every nerve ending awake. “I trusted you knew what you were doing. And obviously, I was right. You’re a natural.”
“Hardly. My hands are still shaking.” But I was so relieved at his words I felt almost buoyant.
“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want, right? We can go about this another way.”
I shook my head. “It’s important to me.”
“You were right about how bad things have gotten. I couldn’t believe some of those stories.” Suddenly, he gave my ankles a firm tug, pulling me closer to him. I gasped in surprise, but it only made his mouth tug up at the corners. “Hey. I know what you need to unwind.”
Dragging me even closer had caused his fingertips to slip higher up my calf, under the wide leg of my dress pants. It was only the smallest distance, but my breath caught in my throat. In an instant, I pictured Logan bending over the arm of the couch, hands sliding up my inseams until they were between my legs, the friction of his fingers sparking heat through the fabric. It was so vivid I could almost feel the pressure, the electric charge. I squeezed my legs together, hips twisting, and hoped he couldn’t tell what I was thinking. Logan and the ridiculous lust he inspired—I wasn’t used to my body reacting so viscerally to anyone.
He cleared his throat and gently lowered my feet, releasing me. “Come get a drink with me. I know the perfect place.”
Drinks alone with Logan.Bad idea, whispered my voice of reason.Too high a risk. Danger zone.
“I’m sure you have plans,” he added hurriedly. “It was just a thought. You know, figured we could celebrate your success. As colleagues.”
