“Third drawer, I think,” I tell him and at the same time realize that’s my underwear drawer. I close my eyes tightly and let that fact settle in—my hot tenant is riffling through my undies.Great.
Despite being embarrassed I don’t intend to do a thing about it. I like sitting still. It helps my head. After a minute, he pulls out my black and silver one-piece I used for aqua therapy after my car crash. “This?”
“Yeah.” I hold out my hand and he gives me the suit.
He points to the door. “I’m going to let all the dogs out and bring Chewie back here. Do not try anything crazy. If you feel faint, lie down.”
I nod and he disappears. It takes me way longer than normal to get into the damn bathing suit. I keep getting dizzy and almost falling over, so I lie back on the bed and wiggle into it that way. Then I puke in the tiny trash bin by my dressing table. Luckily, there’s a plastic bag liner and I’m mostly dry-heaving because my stomach is empty. Oh my God, this is hell.
I make my way slowly back to my bed and lie across it, my feet still on the soft bedside rug to keep the dizziness at bay. I can hear him and the dogs outside the window, in the yard. He’s trying to coax Boss into going to the bathroom. I smile because Boss hates snow and his M.O. is to just stand there, frozen like a statue, glaring instead of doing his business.
Finally, I hear an, “Alright Boss! High-five!”
He must have peed. I laugh at Logan’s over-enthusiastic praise and the thought that he may have, in fact, tried to high-five my chihuahua. I close my eyes. I guess I dozed off because suddenly his hands are wrapped around my shoulders in a warm, firm grip. “Chloe?”
“Hi.”
“What’s my name?”
I blink. Thank God my vision is almost perfect now. “Logan Hawkins.”
“What day is it?”
“Friday… unless it’s after midnight then Saturday.” I start to sit up. He keeps his hands on me, guiding me. When I raise from the bed to a standing position, one of his hands goes to my waist. I look at him—really—for the first time since I woke up from my concussion cat-nap. Logan’s not wearing a shirt anymore. His wide, chiseled chest narrows into a stomach of washboard abs and his treasure trail is cut off by the waist band of navy board shorts with little silver skulls on them.
“You’re not wearing clothes,” I gasp. I didn’t mean to gasp I just couldn’t stop myself.
“I’m wearing a bathing suit too,” Logan says. “I figured when you said you didn’t want me to see you naked that also meantyoudidn’t want to seemenaked. But if the statement was only one-sided, I could shower with you the way nature intended.”
Oh my God.
6
Logan
The lookon her face makes me realize this is not the time to be funny. I am such an idiot. This woman doesn’t know me well enough to know when I’m kidding around. Man, maybe Jake is right when he keeps saying that if I don’t start dating soon, I’ll lose the ability to communicate with women. Maybe I already have.
“Kidding!” I say and force out an awkward chuckle. I feel her shoulders relax and she tries to laugh too, but it’s just as weird sounding as mine. “Let’s get you cleaned up so you can rest.”
The bathroom is gorgeous with a very big walk-in shower, which will make my job much easier here. “This bathroom is nice.”
“Thanks. I did the design and tiling myself but hired a plumber. Well, he did the work in trade for me building his website.” She winces. “I’m getting one hell of a headache.”
“I’m surprised it took this long,” I reply and drop the toilet seat lid so I can place her on it while I get the shower turned on and the temperature right.
She sits, and I turn to the shower. It’s got a rain head, a regular shower head, and a panel of jets built into the wall. There arefour different levers to turn and a bunch of buttons I could push. Not wanting to bug her for instructions, I lean over to examine it quickly and make a guess, turning the biggest lever at the top of the panel. The wall jets roar to life and hit me directly in the face and chest.
“Mother fucker!” I bellow and blindly start smacking at the panel. Now the only water pounding me is cold.Freezingcold. I stumble backwards. “Fuck!”
“Oh my God!” She stands up and starts to immediately tilt to the left. I dart from the shower and grab her shoulders to keep her from falling into the vanity. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?” I ask, blinking profusely as water drips into my eyes.
“Sorry, I should have explained the shower. It’s complicated,” she says and puts a hand on my bare wet chest to balance herself. Our eyes connect and we both start laughing. This time it’s a natural sound, nothing is forced. “This night can kiss my ass.”
“Mine too,” I say.
We stand there laughing for almost a minute. When we’re done, the atmosphere in the room, in between us, feels lighter. Less awkward and even a little intimate, like we’ve bonded. Chloe gives me some simple instructions for the shower, and in no time the water is warm and coming out of the right place. I help her into the stall.
