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He nodded slowly, and I could see the knowledge lining up in his mind. My comment about him being a boy sparking the idea as he stood, watching, waiting for it to make sense. My reaction when I’d first seen him, my utter inability to even speak.
This was not going to go well.
“So,” he said with a measured air, “what, exactly, did you see … when I wasn’t a boy?”
“Nothing,” I answered, way too quick, way too emphatic.
“Brianna, if something is going to happen—”
“What? No!” The words stuck in my throat as I tried to explain he wasn’t in danger. “God, no, Logan. It’s nothing like that. Just … It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.”Three nothings. Very convincing, Brianna.
I was too flustered to come up with a good lie, and Logan wasn’t letting it go. It was obvious my response wasn’t anothing, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. What was I supposed to say, that fate had chosen him for me, that he was myone? The idea mortified me even more and I was suddenly too hot as the flush seemed to take over my entire body.
Logan noticed as he stared me down, the concern slowly shifting into understanding. I knew my face went impossibly redder as awareness slipped over his features, but I sat frozen as his eyes stayed locked with mine. It was apparently a full two minutes before the idea became utterly pleasing to him. A smile started at the corner of his mouth, crossing slowly over his lips, as if to say, ’ah, so that’s how it is.’
Grin still plastered to his face, he sat up, puffing his chest with unconcealed, all-male pride, and laced his fingers behind his head to lean slowly back into his chair.
“Oh, please,” I hissed.
He shrugged, the movement bringing my attention to the way his outstretched arms flexed for just an instant before I caught myself. When my gaze met his again, his eyes were crinkled in satisfied humor.
I glared at him. He wagged his eyebrows.
The gesture seemed to imply far more that it probably did, but given my absolute mortification, I took the act to mean it was all me. My idea. My fantasy. In an effort to defend myself, I huffed, “It was only a kiss.”
I regretted the words before they were even out of my mouth.
He leaned forward, suddenly, impossibly more interested than before.
I dropped my head to the table, covering my face with my hands just before my brow met wood with a dull thud. I had no idea if he heard me mutter, “Oh God,” into my palms.
