Make it make sense.
The phrase kept echoing around my head, along with a pounding that made me squeeze my eyes shut. The room was daylight-bright, even with the blinds closed.
But I couldn’t makeanythingmake sense, because I was in bed next to a snoring Logan Ashford.
A snoring,nakedLogan Ashford.
Face down, ass up, with the sheet only covering the backs of his knees.
What the actual hell?
How?
At least Iwasn’t naked. I’d somehow ended up in Logan’s white undershirt, which was tent-sized on me.
Yeah, awesome that I was covered up, but the fact that I was naked beneath it opened up all sorts of possibilities about what might’ve gone down after we stumbled into the suite last night.
Last night. There were so many holes in my memory. I could recall most of dinner and the beginning of craps, but after that, all I could conjure up were fleeting moments of giddiness.
And laughing. So much laughing.
I glanced down at my inexplicably sore knees and discovered carpet burn and two new bruises. Um,how?
“Fuck.”
Logan stirred and started to sit up.
“Oh my God,” he inhaled, blinking and looking around like he was coming out of a coma.
I forced myself to ignore the way his biceps flexed as he propped himself up.
Logan realized he was naked and beside me right before he sat all the way up. He pulled the sheet up and flipped over.
Hold on. Was the sheet tented over his waist, or was I imagining it? He raised his knees so I couldn’t investigate further.
“I, uh…”
Logan trailed off, because what was there to say? The most obvious question—did we sleep together—had a pretty self-evident answer. I wasn’t sure whathewas feeling, butmybody had had an active night—confirmed by the pile of gold wrappers on the nightstand.
Howmany times had we had sex?
And more importantly, did either of us remember what had to be an epic night of fucking?
“Hey,” I said simply.
“Hey.”
“How much did we drink last night?” I asked.
“So much,” he grumbled. “I’d prefer death over the way I feel right now.”
“Same.”
I watched him glance at the pile of wrappers and flinch. “I guess we…”
“Yeah.”
We both went silent. I cringed when I had a flash memory of Logan’s head between my thighs.
