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While he continues to stand there half-naked, my body is battling with the unusual desire to lick the sweat from in between his abs, and the guilt that tells me I’m no better than Wes.
“Holy shit, bro? Something got you real good,” Ash comments loudly. “You better thank Logan for saving your sorry ass, Emmy.”
“Thanks, Logan, for saving my sorry ass,” I say dryly, pretending this conversation bores me when all I want to do is leave the room because there’s this dark hole I’m sinking into and it is calling my name.
“It’s okay, your sorry ass is probably grateful,” he responds without emotion, matching my game.
I stand up, then push the stool under the counter. I needed to clear my head. This is not how I intend to spend my time at home.
“Come hang with us today, Emmy. Sandy’s out running but she’ll be back soon. We’re flying out at midnight, so we need to be outta here by eight.”
Perfect. All I have to do is avoid them for the next thirteen hours and then I won’t be seeing Logan for a very, long time. Maybe never.
“I’d love to, but I promised a friend I’d visit her today.”
“What friend?” Ash questions, arms folded as if he’s called my bluff. “The hot one, Audrey-or-something, the one with the perky rack?”
Logan’s reaction to the ‘perky rack’ comment says it all. With his grin fixed and eyes dancing with excitement, it’s easy to see he’s moved past last night. I’m just another notch on his belt.
“No,” I reply with haste. “None of your business.”
Leaving the kitchen, I quickly make my way down the hall and up the stairs toward my room. Turning the corner, and just a few feet from my door, I feel my body being held back and the grip on my arm tight and rigid. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
I keep my back toward him, not wanting to deal with this right now. “I’m not another notch. It was a mistake, okay? Just a poor reaction to some bad news.”
“Excuse me?” He turns me around to face him. Thank God his shirt’s back on. My focus moves to the picture hanging in the background. It’s my entire family including Logan and Aunty Reese. They have been in our lives forever. Even Logan’s older sister, Laura, is standing beside me holding my hand because that’s what she always did. A protector who looked out for me until she left to study in Japan with her grandparents.
In just that one picture you can see how tight our bond is. We are family—irrelevant of the blood flowing through our veins.
And then we both do this. It’s wrong. So very wrong.
“What notch?” Logan growls, keeping his voice and temper unheard by the rest of the house.
“Notch on your belt. I was upset last night. You were there. Kinda like lover’s revenge.”
The minute I said it his expression changed. His heaving chest from his angered state remains oddly calm. His mouths opens as if he’s about to speak yet, no words come out.
I take one last look at him, ready to terminate this conversation and walk away.
“Thankfully, I’ve got a long belt. Another notch ain’t nothing to me,” he brags, winking at me with an air of arrogance. With just one step, his back is to me and he quickly disappears around the hall. The quick footsteps echo against the dark chocolate floorboards until they completely fade.
Suddenly, the door to my sister’s room opens, and she’s standing against the frame in a pair of oversized sweats and a T-shirt that’s matched in size. Sitting on top of her head is a messy bun with two pencils placed like a cross, it must be the latest fad or something.
“Ouch,” she adds with a sympathetic smile before losing attention and directing it to the cell which sits in her hand.
“Please don’t say anything,” I beg. “It was a mistake
.”
Yeah. A big fucking mistake.
“I won’t,” she promises. “But only if you don’t tell Mom about this.” She pulls her sweats down and reveals a tattoo of a rose that takes up most of her upper thigh. It’s quite pretty—shaded in the colors of pink and blue.
“Oh. You’re dead meat.” I whistle.
“Not as much as you’ll be if she finds out about you being a notch on Logan’s very long belt.”
I ignore her comment and enter her room. There’s a white, plush sofa near the window where I throw myself and think of my next move.
