Wind it around my fingers.
Tighten my fist in it.
Use it to yank her head back while I’m filling her from behind—
I blink when she slides a mug in front of me.
“Thanks,” I say, sounding more irritable than I intend. I hate where my thoughts drift whenever she’s around. Yes, I like to fuck, but I’m not some sex-obsessed hound dog who fantasizes about boning every female in my vicinity. It pisses me off that I can’t control the lust Blake stirs up in me.
I gulp down the peppermint tea, welcoming the scalding liquid. Maybe a burnt windpipe will distract me from my twitching dick.
“How long areyouhere?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Probably the whole summer too.”
“Well, we can’t both be here.”
“Glad we agree on that.” I lift a brow. “So when are you leaving?”
Her jaw falls open. “Excuse me?”
Yeah. I’m being an ass. I don’t care. I need to focus on songwriting, on getting my music back on track. There’s no way I can spend the entire summer in close quarters with this girl. Torturing me with her hotness and reminding me of all the reasons I can’t go there.
“We can’t both stay, which means one of us has to go, right?” I shrug at her. “I got here first.”
“I’m not leaving.” She juts her chin, the epitome of obstinate.
“Yeah, you are, kid.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
Now she sounds tired, and when I study her face, I see it. The fatigue lining her eyes. The way her mouth quivers a little, as if it’s a challenge to keep her jaw set in that stubborn line.
“You know what?” she finally says, setting down her tea. “Whatever. I don’t need your permission to stay in my own house. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going up to the blue room to unpack my—”
“I’m in the blue room.”
Her brow furrows. “But the blue room is my room.”
“We don’t have assigned rooms here, Logan.”
“Yes, we do. Gigi’s is the yellow room. Our parents have the two master suites. Mine is the blue room. And yours is the mountain room.”
“What can I tell you? I’m crashing in the blue room.”
Dead silence falls over the kitchen.
Blake stares at me, not making a single sound. For the first time since we almost drowned, she actually seems distraught.
“Quit staring at me like that,” I grumble. “This isn’t a big deal. Just take the yellow room. Gigi won’t be here for months.”
Her bottom lip begins to tremble.
I narrow my eyes. “What’s happening right now?”
Her breathing grows choppy.
Oh, I see. “Are you trying to manipulate me?” I say in amusement. “Because that won’t work on me.” My twin sister used to pull this shit all the time when she was trying to get her way. I’m impervious to a woman’s crocodile tears. “I’m not giving up the blue room. I’m already settled in.”
