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She should’ve known me better than that, but her not talking to me about things made this situation with Logan even more complicated—which was why keeping the mindset of a business arrangement was more suitable. No emotions, no outward commitment, and no guilt.
For the most part.
I looked at my cell phone and turned on the screen. I’d texted Camilla yesterday to see if she wanted to hang out, and even though my message had been read, she hadn’t responded. It hurt that she didn’t want to talk with me and didn’t want to be around me. She’d been my best friend for many years, and the fact that something was driving a wedge between us made me hurt in a way I never had before. I thought we were better friends than that. I thought she loved me more than that. We’d been through so much together and weathered so much life together that I thought she’d feel comfortable coming to me with anything.
Apparently not.
I grabbed my cell phone and slipped it into my clutch purse—yet another thing I would have normally never purchased. I had no idea when I was ever going to wear this outfit again. But tonight, I’d wear the hell out of it. I smoothed on a neutral lip gloss to make my lips shimmer without detracting from my smoky eyes, then headed for the hotel. I had decided to keep the same setup: a romantic overnight getaway with rose petals, a jetted tub, room service, and a comfortable night’s rest.
Because I had to admit, waking up to Logan that next morning had been a thrill I hadn’t expected, which was why I had left as quickly as I possibly could.
I drove myself to the hotel and parked my car, then headed to the front desk. I gave the woman my name and she produced a key, then winked at me before I headed for the elevator. I tried not to feel too weird about it, though it was odd that a random woman knew what I would be doing all night. I looked at the room number and grinned. It was even the same room. I giggled as I stepped into the elevator and rode up to the floor, shuffling on my heels. Was Logan already there? Or would I beat him like I had the first time? Wait, would he bail on me? Maybe I would get there and he wouldn’t show up.
I was a ball of nerves by the time the elevator doors opened. I quickly shuffled down the hallway and jammed the key into the door, then shoved my shoulder into it. I squealed as I went careening to the ground, my purse falling to the floor and spilling all its contents.
Before I could face plant on the carpet with my purse, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me.
“Whoa there, Ava. Slow down.”
I gripped tightly to Logan as the door closed behind me.
“Come here. Let me help,” he said.
“I’m so clumsy in heels.” I would have said anything to detract from the real reason why I had just impersonated the Kool-Aid Man to get into the room.
“Then take them off. Come on, the requirements for the women are ridiculous anyway,” Logan said.
He steadied me on my feet before he bent down in front of me. I furrowed my brow as he slowly lifted my foot. He inched the stilettos off my body, and I wiggled my toes, then sighed with relief. I was glad to be rid of them, but I hadn’t expected a tender side from Logan.
He looked up at me and grinned, a sight that flipped my stomach.
“There. That should feel better,” he said as he stood.
He loomed over me, and his gorgeous gray eyes swept me away. His chiseled jawline seemed harsher in the shadows of the room, but the playful specks of yellow I’d never noticed before in his gaze lent a youthfulness to his stern features. His grin ticked his cheeks up, relaxing his entire body as I studied him closely. He wore a tailored suit that matched the color of his eyes, and instead of donning a tie, he had the first couple buttons of his shirt undone.
I wanted to trace my finger over the skin it bared.
“I’m sorry we have to do this again,” Logan said.
I shrugged, because apparently my mouth had forgotten how to talk.
“You look stunning in that dress,” he said
“Thanks. Though now that I’ve seen your outfit, I feel like maybe I should have dressed more appropriately for our business meeting.”
“I came straight from work,” he said, chuckling.
“I did not.”
We shared a laugh before the tension fell between us again. I finally found the willpower to look past his body, and the scenario was much the same as before. Rose petals underneath our feet led to the bed. Satin sheets reflected the moonlight pouring through the window. Candles flickered in all the corners, casting a warm glow over the parts of the room the moon didn’t touch. Rose-scented bubbles popped in the tub in the bathroom.
