Unfortunately, sleeping with Logan wasn't the only thing on my mind. I kept circling back around to what he'd said about Jason and my own bad taste in men, and I couldn't get it out of my head.
He'd seemed like he was genuinely trying to warn me about Jason, but it could also have just been his way of trying to rain on my parade. I wouldn't put it past him.
By the time I got back to the house, it was later than I'd intended to be out, and I was cranky. My mind was the opposite of clear, and I had found nothing even resembling inner peace.
Britt called out to me when I came in, asking if I wanted to play a game with her and Lydia, but I declined, instead marching right up the stairs to the room Logan had picked out for himself and banging on his door.
With everyone else occupied downstairs, that was the perfect time for me to confront him.
He came to the door looking perplexed, and he actually had the audacity to sigh when he saw it was me standing there. Logan was dressed down in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and his hair fell in soft, ruffled waves over his head. He looked so casually attractive, and it wasn't even anything close to fair.
I wanted to hit him.
"What do you want?" he asked, and I almost told him I wanted to hit him, but instead I made myself take a breath.
"I want to talk to you," I said.
Logan lifted an eyebrow. "I can't imagine why you'd want to do that."
"Because I need to know what you meant last night. About Jason. If there's something going on with him, I have a right to know."
"Why?" he asked, folding his arms. "Because you have feelings for him? Because you think you're going to get back home and start a whirlwind romance?"
I glared so hard, I was half hoping he'd catch on fire from the force of it. "Can you go even two seconds without being a huge dick?" I demanded. "I'm not trying to start with you! I just want to know what you meant."
He opened his mouth again, but then closed it, seeming to take a second to think. "Fine," he said. "Come in. I'm not gossiping in the hallway like a teenage girl."
I rolled my eyes, but followed him into the room.
Like all the others in the house, it was light and airy. The windows were open, and the night breeze wafted through, lifting and fluttering the soft white curtains. His bed was rumpled, and there was a laptop open on top of the sheets. I hoped I'd interrupted him in the middle of something.
"I don't know a lot," he said once he'd closed the door behind me. "I don't know him at all. But I do know he's got a reputation."
"For what?" I asked.
"What do you think? You can't be that naive."
Immediately, my temper flared. "Why is it impossible for you to answer a simple question without turning into a raging asshole?" I asked. "You want to know what I think?"
"No," he said coolly.
"Well too damned bad. I think you just want to see the worst in everyone. If everyone else is terrible, then you don't have to feel bad about your shitty attitude. You can tuck yourself into bed at night and feel like they all deserved it and you were in the right. Well, guess what? You're wrong. You're not in the right, you're just a sourpuss. Sometimes I have to wonder if that's why your fiancé left."
It was a low blow, and I knew it was as soon as it slipped out of my mouth. It was the kind of thing I would never have said to anyone else, even if they were being horrible to me, but there was just something about Logan that made it so hard not to lash out when he did. He sparked an anger in me that I wasn't used to feeling, and I didn't know why he had such a hold on the way I responded.
He took two steps forward, crowding right into my personal space. "Don't," he said, and it sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. "Do not talk about her. You don't know shit about what happened, so don't walk in here and think you can throw accusations around."
"Oh, so you want to be treated with respect, but you don't want to give it?" I replied, not backing down an inch. He was much taller than me, but I wasn't intimidated by him. He was my brother's best friend, but I knew that if it came down to it, Dan would be on my side if something happened.
I just glared back up at him, meeting his eyes with mine, showing him I could be every bit as stubborn as he was.
The tension was thick, both of us breathing slightly raggedly, the heat of the confrontation high in the air. Logan opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, to snap back and tell me where to shove it, most likely, but instead he made a low, frustrated sound and grabbed my shoulders, yanking me in close so he could kiss me hard.
There was a good second and a half where I was frozen in place, unable to process what was happening. His mouth was crushed to mine, hot and sharp and heavy with desperation. One part of my brain yelled at me to push him away. To tell him he had some nerve and to never touch me again.
The other part supplied images from my dream and reminded me how pent up I was, and the rest of my body seemed to be in agreement.
I fisted my hands in the material of his shirt and held on tight while I kissed him right back.
