With his attention on the purple lights glimmering beneath the water, Logan listened for sounds Elijah was approaching. He didn’t hear anything at first, but then a minute later, footsteps sounded on the pool coping. Elijah appeared, beer in hand.
It didn’t matter that Logan wasn’t ready to broach this subject; it appeared they’d found themselves in a situation that required it. Part of him wondered if Sam had played a part in that, too, with her earlier reference to wicked, dirty things.
He took a long pull on his beer, then let the bottle dangle from his fingers, his arm resting on the arm of the chair.
“I don’t want you sleeping in another bed,” he said, not looking at Elijah. “At the same time, I don’t want…”
“A repeat?” Elijah filled in when Logan paused.
“Oh, I definitely want a repeat,” he mumbled, then dared to look at Elijah, met his dark brown gaze. “I just don’t want this scripted.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, that was relief on the Brit’s face.
“We’ve got three nights. Let’s just let it play out,” he told Elijah, repeating the exact words he’d told Sam when she had pushed that night in Colorado.
“So should I expect you to rub up on me in the middle of the night?”
He heard the teasing in Elijah’s tone, and he relaxed a little. “If anyone’s gonna do any rubbing, it’ll be you.”
Elijah laughed softly. “You think so?”
Logan smiled.
That night, no one did any rubbing, but they did sleep in the same bed. Due to how big it was, they could’ve been sleeping in separate rooms. When Logan woke the next morning, he wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed that they’d wasted one of those three nights.
