The restaurant, the terrace.
The sex that…fuck, somehow destroyed me and put me back together all at once.
My thoughts don’t have long to linger there, though, because Logan glances at me over his shoulder, catching me mid-ogle. A tender smile pulls at his lips, and though he doesn’t call me out for it, he does toss my underwear at my face.
“You need to get up.”
I shoot him a confused look without moving. “Since when are you awake this early?”
“Except it’s not early. We overslept, and we’re gonna be late.”
His words send an electrical pulse shooting through my body, only amplified by glancing at the clock to notice it’s already almost two in the afternoon. Meaning there’s just over an hour until the wedding is due to start, and neither of us are anywhere close to being ready.
I’m off the bed in a flash, dragging my underwear up to my hips with ease before searching for my pants.
How the hell did we manage to oversleep?
Even as I think it, I know the answer: We were too busy making the other come. Even with knocking out after the first round, it didn’t stop me from waking him around midnight for my turn at being lit up from the inside. Then, after lots of kissing and mapping the other’s body with reverent touches, we wound up in the shower for a third. Pair all that with some soft conversations while curled together in bed, and it’s really no surprise we’ve found ourselves in this situation.
We never once broached the topic of what we were doing, though. Instead, we kept it safe, talking mostly about school or the AHL. And while I could feel the guillotine hanging over our heads with every single moment until we finally fell asleep as the sun started to rise, I’m glad for our unspoken agreement to live in our bubble for the night.
But the bubble’s set to burst now, in the harsh light of day. The second we step out of this room, in fact.
I shove the impending doom away, though, and search for the rest of my clothes, finding them strewn everywhere from last night’s haste. I’ve got my dress pants pulled up and am working on fastening my belt when I hear the sound of water pelting tile, only for Logan to call out behind me.
“Aren’t you gonna shower? Or are you planning to go to the wedding smelling of eau du cum?”
I can’t bite back my smile when I turn, finding him in the bathroom doorway with a towel hung low on his hips. My eyesgreedily take in his body, which has become a little more defined in the last year and a half, but then they slide up to the strands of hair sticking out in every direction from his head.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand how he’s the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen while simultaneously being the most adorable. It’s a trait so undeniably Logan, and I can’t help but smile.
“Well? You gonna keep eye-fucking me or join me?” he prompts, brow arched.
I let out a little chuckle while slipping into my shirt, only to remember he ripped the damn buttons off in the elevator when I go to button it.
“I was gonna shower in my own room.”
He motions behind him. “Why, when I have a perfectly good working one right here?”
“Yes, as we figured out last night,” I remind him, my lips twitching at the memory of lapping at his tight ass beneath the spray. “Which is exactly why I should go to my own room.”
“You think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”
It’s moremethat I’m worried about. Because if I had it my way, we’d never leave this hotel room. Never go back to reality. Never face the music, and instead, continue living in this place, hidden away from the outside world.
But that’s not realistic, so I grab my rumpled jacket from the floor and offer, “We really don’t need to put that to the test and risk the best man being late.”
“If I even still hold that title after skipping out on the rehearsal dinner,” he mutters with a snort, only to smile before he adds, “Though, I can’t say it wasn’t worth it.”
That’d make two of us, Lo.
My teeth sink into my lip as I stare at this man who I love more than anything—the same man who loves me back—yet still seems so far out of reach.
Because, as emotionally charged and mind-altering as lastnight was, there’s still so much we haven’t figured out, and now that the cover of night is gone, there’s no ignoring them. No pretending we don’t need to have more hard conversations.
And I’m fucking terrified of what the outcome will be.
“I’ll see you down there, okay?”
