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CHAPTER THIRTY
“And I-I-I will alwayslove youuuuu,” Emma sang. “Will alwayysss love youuuuu.”
She belted out the high note, almost shattering glass, spinning with her water bottle like a makeshift microphone.
As one does.
Emma was stuck on an end scene for her book. It had to be heartbreaking, and right now, Emma was feeling a little disheartened.
Soon, she was going home, and Logan had given her no indication he wanted her to stay. Or cared. In fact, this morning he’d reassured her he would fly home with her, so she had nothing to worry about.
Yeah, thanks.
Which was sweet of him, but not what she wanted to hear.
Perhaps it was for the best. She did miss her home and friends, but the stupid billionaire had stolen her heart when she wasn’t looking.
Logan didn’t even know it.
“You authors do a lot of non-writing.” Logan made her jump out of her skin.
Emma spun around and found him leaning against the doorjamb. His black shirt was rolled up at his sleeves, glasses on the top of his head, making him look like something out of a gangster movie.
Good Lord, he was hot as sin.
“Logan,” she cried, blushing.
Oh God, he’d heard her horrible singing.
“Lucky you can write,” he said, and she threw her plastic bottle at him.
Of course, he just reached out and grabbed it.
“Are you always sexy?” she asked, and he smirked, stalking toward her, placing the water bottle on the desk, and pulling her up against his body.
“You tell me.”
“It’s a yes.”
“It’s a yes from me too.” He took her mouth in his.
And she melted.
Like she did every minute she was in his arms.
Harper had called her earlier that day, asking how she was doing, not long after she’d Facetimed with Lily—who was heading out for lunch with her boss. Emma was sure the plot was thickening there.
She and Harper had both been writing, and they often Facetimed each other to talk about author stuff.
