I blink, stunned. “I wasn’t?—”
Sloane’s responding smile is flat-out lethal. “Liar.”
The light turns green.
And I drive home with her hand still burning through my jeans, knowing that I’d give this girl anything in the world if I could.
—
Sloane
We make it back to the house without any issues, Logan seeming to at least have a little focus on the road.
Once we pull into my driveway, the mood sombers just a little bit. We grab our stuff and head toward the house, Logan grabbing my hand right as we make it to the door.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod. “Better than okay.”
His eyes search mine, looking for cracks, for grief, for the girl who spent months barely holding herself together.
But that girl is still here—she’ll always be here—she’s just not drowning anymore.
“I need to shower,” Logan says, mouth twitching, as we walk inside. “We were in the gym for two hours, and I was interrupted before we hit the showers.”
I look at him—really look at him. The tight shirt stretched across his chest. The flush still on his cheeks. The way his eyes darken when I don’t immediately respond.
“Want company?” I ask, dropping my bag next to the couch and kicking off my shoes.
His breath catches. “You sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Logan’s eyes go dark, his shoes are tossed to the side, his bag falls with a loud thunk, and then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is slow and deep and full of everything we’ve been through—grief and healing and love and hope.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“Shower,” Logan says, voice rough. “Now.”
I take his hand and lead him down the hall, heart pounding.
In the bathroom, I turn on the shower while Logan strips off his shirt, and I try not to stare at the expanse of his chest, the cut of his abs, the way his muscles shift.
“See something you like?” he asks, catching me looking.
“Always.”
His eyes flare, and then he’s on me, hands pulling my hoodie and sports bra over my head, mouth finding mine again.
We shed the rest of our clothes quickly, desperate to feel skin on skin, and then we’re under the spray together.
The water is hot, steam filling the small space, and the second we step under it, Logan pulls me flush against him.
I shiver despite the heat—not from cold, but from the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m everything he's ever wanted.
“Hi,” he murmurs, one hand cupping my jaw.
