I shrug.
"You know, all those shows scream 'guy stuff.' Kind of cliché." Logan opens his mouth to fire back, but Ethan is quicker.
"And isn't it cliché for girls to like crime shows?" he says, squeezing my thigh, and I let out a little laugh.
"Yeah... maybe it is. I also listen to true crime podcasts sometimes," I admit, and Logan looks at me like I'm kind of crazy.
"I've hooked up with plenty of girls addicted to that. What's the fascination with the subject?"
"I can't explain it, it just... keeps me curious."
Logan shakes his head like I don't make any sense and turns his attention back to the TV.
"Why don't we all step out of our comfort zone today? Pick a show that wouldn't be any of our first choice," Ethan suggests.
"Hm, I'm in." My quick answer earns me another squeeze on the thigh. I don't know if it was such a good thing having this big, warm hand of Ethan's touching me all the time. Pretty soon I'd start wanting to ask him to move that hand up.
I chase away the shameless thoughts when Logan says:
"Let's count to ten while I scroll down through the options. Whichever one we stop on is the one we watch," he decides, and we go along with it.
The little squares with the thumbnails flash by, and when the time runs out, the selection lands on a... Colombian telenovela: Coffee, with the Scent of a Woman.
I let out an uncontrollable laugh while the two players make faces.
"Let's try again and..."
"No, no, no! Now I really want that one!" I declare, and they groan in unison. Ethan tries to negotiate, but I don't give in and I even send Logan to grab blankets and Ethan to make popcorn. Soon the three of us are wrapped up on the couch with buckets of popcorn in our laps, watching this Gaviota woman meet Sebastian and enchant him with her voice.
Oh, this was going to be wonderful.
Logan
I wouldn't admit it even under torture, but after just four episodes of the telenovela, I was hooked. Those people's dramas were strangely addictive, and when I went to sleep, I was still thinking about who was lying about what in that Vallejo family.
I wake up a few hours later with a terrible thirst. My phone tells me it's almost three-thirty in the morning. Since I forgot to bring a water bottle to leave on the nightstand, I'm forced to get up and drag myself to the kitchen.
However, as I pass through the living room, I find a Charlotte sleeping all curled up on our couch and the TV on at a low volume. She's using the blanket I brought earlier, but I feel kind of sorry about how her neck is going to wake up tomorrow in that bad position on the cushion.
I walk to the kitchen with even more care not to wake her and drink two giant glasses of really cold water.
I take another look at Charlie on my way back and even make it to the hallway, but...
I can't leave her there.
I sigh and turn around. With the utmost care, I slip one arm behind her neck and the other under her legs tangled in the blanket and lift her. I lift more weight than this at the gym, so it's no big sacrifice. When I take the first step, she makes a little sound and I think she's going to wake up, but she only murmurs something else unintelligible and clings to my neck.
Oh, damn. Her soft breasts pressed against my chest weren't in the plans and don't do my sanity much good. Ever since she came here, I've been trying hard not to think about how attracted I am to her and not to try to backstab my friend.
I pull the air in hard and let it out before going back to walking carefully. Luckily her bedroom door is open so I just push it a little and soon manage to set her down on the bed. The moment she rests her head on the soft pillow, the girl smiles and lets out a moan of satisfaction that nearly kills me. I try to take her arms off my neck, but she really protests now.
"No, don't go," she says with a little pout, and I blink repeatedly. Does she know she talks in her sleep?
"I have to go, baby. And you need to get back to sleep," I murmur quietly, and she lets out a whimper.
"I don't want to."
"But you have to, princess. And so do I."
