“Aren’t we?”
“Not tonight.”
He laughed, a low sound that seemed to revel in the uncertainty in my voice. “Next time, then?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I insisted, flustered. “I just… We’re not going to have sex. That’s it.”
“Okay,” he conceded, his tone deceptively light. “No sex.”
“No sex,” I reinforced, my voice firmer than my resolve.
A mischievous glint lit his eyes. “Are kisses allowed?”
'No,'was what I thought, a single, sensible word screaming in my mind.
But my voice betrayed me, whispering something entirely different. “They are. The kisses are.”
Then he kissed me again. And that definitely didn’t make things any easier.
Chapter Twenty-Three
EVELYN
I said we wouldn’t have sex. But the way Logan kissed me, the way his hands roamed my body—even over my clothes—should have been classified as a quasi-sexual act.
We spent hours like that, and he, without a word, seemed to dare me to go back on my decision. I could feel him, hard as rock beneath his pants, and it took every ounce of my self-control not to give in.
I’d never been a prude. But we’d only shared our first kiss that morning; jumping into bed together just a few hours later was far too rushed by my standards. Especially since we couldn’t just go our separate ways the next day. We were sharing a roof, with over two months left in our agreement. I couldn’t risk letting something so intimate create an awkwardness that would poison the time we had left.
Although those kisses felt intimate enough to be dangerous.
Although they weren’t nearly enough to satisfy me.
And they clearly weren’t enough for him, either.
When we finally decided to sleep, he muttered something about needing a shower and disappeared into the bathroom. I settled into bed, thinking I might be asleep by the time he returned.
I wasn’t. So when I saw him leave the bathroom and then the bedroom entirely, confusion curdled in my stomach.
Had it been so bad that he’d chosen the couch?
Or had it been so good that the cold shower hadn't been enough to cool him off?
Or, worst of all, had that intimacy already created the exact awkwardness I was trying to avoid?
I was still turning the questions over in my mind when he returned, coming straight to bed. The lamp on his side was still on, so he saw I was awake.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” he said.
“And I thought you’d gone to sleep on the couch,” I confessed.
He laughed softly. “Why would I do something stupid like that? I just went to check on the girls.”
Damn. That didn’t help at all. The devoted father version of Logan was dangerously sexy.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “Maybe you regretted what we did.”
“Technically,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “we didn’t do much.”
