The last thing I want to do is wake her, because she needs to sleep. But it’s torture to leave her side to head toward the door that Logan warned me against walking through.
I’m just going to have to risk it. I’m not going to piss myself, am I?
Slowly turning the doorknob, I take a step out, and nearly fall over the shape lying on the floor just inches away from my door.
Oops.
A moment later, the form has sprung up, and Logan’s got me pinned against the wall, his hand closed around my wrists.
“The fuck are you doing, Lia?” he growls.
I do my best to swallow. “I just… I just need to go to the bathroom, Logan.”
I let out a breath of relief as I feel him slightly relax his hold. “Fine,” he mutters. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s… go?”
Before I can ask what that means, he opens the door that opens out into the hallway.Right. A shared bathroom. I should have known.
I barely have time to notice that the bed in this room hasn’t been touched, and to wonder why the hell Logan was lying on the floor beside my door instead of sleeping in it like a sane person, before he’s pulling me out into the hallway and leading me to the bathroom.
“You know, Icanwalk by myself,” I huff out.
“Shut up.”
I bite my tongue to keep from lashing out at him, because that wouldnotbe a smart thing to do right now, but I’m definitely thankful when we reach the grimy bathroom door.
I really need to get away from him, at least for a few moments, because it feels like I’m going to explode from the intensity of everything he makes me feel.
But instead of staying at the door, he… walks in with me.
“What the hell, Logan? I need to pee!”
“Go ahead.”
“Not with you in the room!” Before I have time to realize what I’m doing, I’m batting him away, as though he’s the cute boy who used to take my abuse without reacting, instead of the murderous man in front of me now.
Though I guess he’s never really been okay with me getting physical with him.
I take a step back, flinching, expecting him to do his worst. But instead, he leans against the wall, folding his arms and regarding me with something like… a smirk.
“Go on, Lia.”
“Not with you looking,” I insist, swallowing my nerves.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”
For the first time since he hunted me down on the side of the road, he’s looking at me with something other than pure rage. It’s almost as though he’s enjoying my embarrassment.
“You’re an asshole,” I grumble, starting to very slowly and reluctantly unbutton my jeans. “Aren’t you at least going to look away? Pervert!”
Again, probably not the best idea to insult the guy who looks like he’d have no qualms about snapping my neck, no matter what he said about his intentions before.
But he doesn’t look angry. If anything, his smirk deepens. “I’m used to your insults, Lia. They don’t hurt me anymore. Go ahead and pee, and if you keep running your tongue at me, I’ll take you over my knee and punish you.”
Uh, okay.
His threat does something to me. But its effect is dampened by the other thing he said.They don’t hurt me anymore.
