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Of course, this was her weekend for laundry, and the few extra blankets she had were stuffed in her hamper from the last time Becca had crashed up there.
Everly rushed to her room, her body buzzing, cognizant of every second she left Logan alone downstairs, as if he might disappear if she took too long. Digging through the carcass of a wardrobe Jazzy had left behind, she found a cozy oversized tunic and a pair of leggings for herself. But for Logan? She was stumped. He was too stocky to fit into anything of hers, and the idea of borrowing something from her brother felt way too weird.
Thankfully, in the bottom drawer of her dresser, she came across a maroon Claymore hoodie Jazzy had dug out of the back of Everly’s closet. It was oversized and cozy, and she’d passed many long nights of studying at the library buried in it. It would have to do.
Logan hadn’t moved from where she’d left him, except to empty his phone, wallet, and keys from his pocket onto the couch.
She offered him a towel and the hoodie. “This was all I could find.”
“I’d take a dry napkin at this point,” he quipped.
As she tossed him the clothes, thunder rumbled over their heads, and a shiver raked through Everly’s body.
“Okay, I need out of this wet dress.” She’d been spread out on his couch half-naked a week ago, so she thought nothing of grabbing the bottom of her sweater dress and pulling it up.
Logan, however, choked on his surprise.
And because she was the least smooth person in existence, the wet fabric of her dress got tangled in her arms, knotting around her shoulders and trapping her. She couldn’t even blame the camera for this disaster.
“You okay over there?” His voice was playful.
“I’m grand. This is my favorite way to wear this dress.” She struck a pose, bending a knee and popping one hip like they always did onTop Model.
She could hear him laugh softly.
But his gaze was serious when he pulled the dress down past her face and their eyes locked. He didn’t so much as blink as he brushed his palms up her arms to reach the tangled fabric. With each bit he unknotted, he eased a little closer, until they were hip to hip, chest to chest, his breath spreading hot across Everly’s face and neck.
Her body melted at his touch, and she couldn’t help but back up until her spine hit the washing machine. Something to keep her upright.
Her heart was hammering against her ribs, and her head had emptied in that perfect way, where there was nothing but him and her. Nothing but this one moment. The thunder outside went silent. The proximity of her brother’s house disappeared. The thrum of the rain became a whisper that was barely a breath beneath the scream of her blood. The pulsing need at her center.
“There,” he breathed, and her dress went slack against her shoulders. Everly raised her arms so he could guide it over her head.
She didn’t hear the fabric hit the floor because his hands were cupping her face and guiding her lips to his, and all she could think was how much she wanted to kiss him.
And as much as she wanted to be patient, to wait until his lips found hers, the hunger won.
She leaned forward until their mouths slotted together, and her hands burrowed into the hem of his wet T-shirt, yanking it taut against his chest. Everly’s skin burst to life at his touch, at the gentle scratch of his beard against her cheeks.
His tongue teased the seam of her lips, and she parted them slowly, enjoying the way she ached for him. To touch him. To have him touch her. For their bodies to come together wherever they could.
She lifted herself onto the washer and let her legs slide apart. Logan moved between them, and the bulge in his jeans pressed against her exactly where she needed him. A moan stole its way out of her mouth, which only encouraged him to grip her waist and arch her closer.
She wore nothing but her bra and underwear, and he was fully clothed—and still damp. They needed to change that. She wanted the feel of his warm skin against her everywhere.
Deepening their kiss, she ran her hands along his shoulders and down his back. Taking a handful of the cotton in her fists, she dragged his shirt toward his shoulders.
With a start, he jumped away, yanking the hem back into place.
Embarrassment barreled through her. Had she completely misunderstood what was happening? Everly snapped her knees together and crossed her arms over her chest, hiding herself as much as she could.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he said.
She struggled to hold his gaze. “What did I do? I thought—”
“You didn’t—”
“—you wanted this.”
