Oh no. I stop reading and bite my cheek. I never should have started this entry. It’s far too—
“Intimate?” Logan’s voice cuts through my harried thoughts.
I make eye contact with him, and he smiles fondly. “I remember this day.”
“But I’ve barely started to read it. How could you—”
“I remember every moment with you.”
Shit.
He taps my leg. “Read it. And don’t censor yourself.”
I can’t imagine getting the words out of my throat. I’m so turned on already and I don’t like to talk when I’m like this. I like to do other things, things that involve more touching and less speaking.
I manage a nod and return to the page.
It was a hot day out even though it was only the end of April, and I was wearing a new halter top and jean shorts. Logan asked me where I got the top, and I told him Wal-Mart on sale, and he said it looked a lot sexier than Wal-Mart. I turned away so he wouldn’t see me smile—I didn’t want him to think I was high on myself or something.
We sat down under a shade tree to rest, and Logan asked if I was still seeing Tucker Strom, the senior. I told him no, that Tucker had behaved in a very ungentlemanly manner last week, and so I dumped him. Logan nodded and looked away, and I asked him if he was dating Melinda. The slutty sophomore who’s had her eye on Logan since she was thirteen and he was fifteen.
“Nope,” he said. “I got over that real quick.”
“Oh.” I peeled off the label on my water bottle, trying to distract myself from my attraction to him.
It had been nearly a year since we’d last made out, and I hadn’t thought we would again, necessarily. But then again, I always hoped we would.
Logan leaned in and kissed me but pulled back right away. “I don’t want to assume anything. If you don’t want to…”
I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him then—with tongue. And we lay down on the grass, right in between all the wildflowers that had all grown up so nice this spring, and we grew a little ourselves. At least third base’s worth. And I couldn’t believe I’d dated Tucker all those weeks and never once felt this good. Not that I let him touch me this way. I’d never gone this far before, but Logan is different. He makes me feel safe. And aroused.
I stop again, my face so hot I can’t believe the sun’s not shining on it. I close my eyes and take a long, slow breath. Logan’s hands on my waist and between my thighs—the memory is hitting me so hard I have to keep my legs tightly closed so they won’t tremble. Parts of me that always only turn on for Logan are screaming to be satisfied.
He’s watching me.
“Logan, this is awkward…”
His breath is heavy. “I’m the guy in the story, for Christ’s sake. How can you be embarrassed to read something about us in front of us?”
I laugh. “I don’t know. I just am. I’m shy.”
Logan’s mouth is laughing along with his eyes. I haven’t seen him this himself since Gigi came along, and I want to keep seeing that.
“Look,” he says. “When you become a novelist, you’re going to have to do public readings. And you told me you’re planning to have romance in your books. So think of this as good practice.”
“Like we’re characters in a novel,” I say.
“Exactly. Just two people you wrote about.”
I return to the diary.
When Logan took off my halter top and kissed my breasts, I nearly came apart inside. I thought my heart would burst. And when he unzipped my shorts and slipped his hand inside—oh God, I could hardly stop from screaming.
“Tell me what you like, Macey,” he whispered as he looked into my eyes. “Move my hand where you want it.”
I closed my eyes. “I like what you’re doing right now.”
Logan’s breath is ragged now, and I’m exhaling so heavily I have to fight to control the volume as I curl my toes inside my boots and try to keep reading in a level tone of voice.
