He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, his expression understanding. “I get it. If you’re really not ready?—”
“No, it’s not that I don’t want to,” I interrupt, taking a step closer. “It’s just…I need a moment.”
He nods, giving me the space I need. I take a deep breath, weighing my feelings.
“Okay,” I finally say, heart pounding. “I want to be near you. I just…it’s going to take a sec to adjust to whatever this is.”
Logan’s face lights up with a soft smile, and I climb into bed beside him, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I can’t help but melt into him.
We lie in comfortable silence for a while, the world outside fading to a distant hum. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my arm, sparking warmth wherever he touches me.
And that night, with Logan’s arm draped over me, I slip into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a while. Maybe even years.
Chapter Twenty-Two
CASSIE
I wake up warm, cozy, tangled under blankets and between limbs.
It takes me a second to place it, my brain slow and syrupy, before I fully register the arm draped over my waist, the leg pressing up against mine, and steady breath at the back of my neck.
Last night hits me all at once, a rush of heat and memory and something I don’t want to name yet.
Rebound. This was supposed to be a rebound. Nothing serious.
I flicker my eyes open like I’m waking from the dead. And when I crack one eye open and squint at the clock.
9:07 a.m.
“Shit.”
I don’t oversleep. Ever.
I bolt upright so fast Logan grunts behind me, his arm tightening instinctively like he’s trying to keep me there.
“Mm. Morning.”
“Logan,” I hiss, scrambling out of bed. “What time is it?”
He rolls onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling. “Damn.”
“What are you looking at?” I say, popping a hip out.
“You. You look so hot in the morning.”
“Logan! Ugh. My brother is coming over this morning to fix the kitchen cabinet door.”
That gets his attention.
He pushes up on his elbows. “Okay?”
“Okay?” I repeat, already yanking on a T-shirt. “He has a key, Logan. He’s supposed to be here at nine.”
Right then, I hear footsteps inside.
“Sis? Where ya at?” Jackson’s voice calls from downstairs.
Then I hear boots on the stairs, and my blood goes cold.
