“Like you care about what ittastes like,” I said as he ushered me into a building.
He hadn’t told me wherewe were going, and I had no idea what this building was. I was just glad to beout of the house.
Even without any makeup on.
Less people were staring atme that way. Normally I didn’t mind—I evenlikedit—but today itwas too much. Hiding deep in a stolen hoodie with Logan to watch over me wasabout as much as I could handle.
Every sideways glance mademe feel like someone wanted to hurt me. Like every single person in the citycould be my stalker, and I’d never know which one.
Logan greeted a securityguard by name, asked about her family, and then got himself waved through to anelevator.
The security guard looked meup and down, but didn’t say anything.
I still had no idea where wewere going, but I trusted Logan. I trusted that this was a good idea.
Afraid as I was, being nearhim made things better. My hands had stopped shaking the moment he’d wrapped themaround a coffee cup for me, and the silence of the elevator calmed my nerves.
When we stepped out, he heldthe doors for me, and all I could do was stare.
A garden.
A garden on the roof of thisvery tall building, overlooking the surrounding streets.
Far, far away from pryingeyes.
“I do care what my coffeetastes like,” Logan said, as though we’d never paused that conversation.
I was too busy staring atthe garden in front of me. Lush shade trees and cute little seating areas,green borders around the sides, and a view of Downtown that would have beenworth millions of dollars.
Hell, thinking back to thebuilding we’dwalked through, it probablywas.
“This is technically closedto the public,” Logan said. “But I called in a favor. Figured you’d like to besomewhere no one can see you.”
“Is that what you were doingwhile we were getting coffee?” I asked.
Logan shrugged, and smiled,and I wanted to kiss him all over again.
I wanted to kiss him for thekindness he’dshown me, for the thoughtfulness that’d gone into this. If I thought he’d seeit as a reward, I would have.
“All part of the service,”he said. But it wasn’t. Ofcourseit wasn’t. His job was to keep mesafe until I’d settled my affairs here and then take me back to my parents’house.
Not to bring me to a privaterooftop garden so I’d have a chance to calm down for a while. This was above andbeyond.
“Thank you,” I said, at aloss for anything else. “I…”
“You’re welcome.” Logansipped his coffee. “Come sit?”
I followed him over to apark bench, and we sat in silence for a while, both sipping our coffee.
The rest of the world seemedso far away up here.
When I’d kissed Loganlast night, I’d done it because I was sad and a little horny and justinebriated enough not to care it was a bad idea.
If I kissed him now, it’d be because Iwanted to curl up in his arms and let him keep me safe from the world.
“So,” Logan spoke upeventually. “Tell me about the drag thing?”
“You don’t have to pretendto care,” I said, toying with my half-empty coffee cup. It was hard to believehe was being so nice to me in the first place, and now he was asking about thething that most guys really didn’t want to hear about?
