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Like a rubber band, the building tension in my core snapped, and I arched my back as my orgasm ripped through me. I wasn’t able to suck in a breath, my body quivering and frozen, and Logan drilled into me a few more times before groaning with his own release.
I screamed, muffled by Logan kissing me. He kissed me like he needed the taste of my mouth and the feel of my breath, not out of obligation. It wasn’t the kind of kiss you give a one-night stand before you politely kick them out of your house without letting them stay for coffee the next morning. It was the kind that said he definitely didn’t hate me as much as he thought he did.
The feeling in my legs slowly came back, but Logan lifted me from the dresser anyway and carried me to his bed. Gently laying me so my back was against the mattress, he climbed over the bed, positioning himself behind me. His arm around me was comfortable, and I settled back against him.
The faded smell of his cologne mixed with the sweat and musk of our arousal was comforting, and I closed my eyes. Sighing, I reminded myself that I wouldn’t be able to stay in this moment for long. A friend wouldn’t stay and cuddle on a Tuesday.
A friend wouldn’t have fucked him at all.
“I should go,” I said, even though I wanted to stay right where I was. I quieted the voice in my head with a small shake, preparing myself to pull away from the warmth of his grasp. Before I could find the will to lift his arm and slide out, the front door opened and slammed shut.
“Fuck. He’s not supposed to be back for at least another hour.”
Auston.
“What do I do?” I whispered.
Logan buried his face against my neck and chuckled quietly. “I guess you have to stay.”
I sighed, my shoulders dropping when I looked back at him. “I can’t stay here. That’s what people who are dating do. We’re not dating.”
Logan looked amused. “Your other option is walking out in front of Auston and letting him know how hard you just came for me.” He ran his fingers along the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of place, reminding me I looked like I was just fucked by a man I was supposed to continue to hate.
From the other side of the door, I heard a woman’s voice. “Whose sweatshirt is this? It definitely belongs to a girl.” She half giggled when she said it, almost like an accusation. I gasped, remembering the old sweatshirt I’d dropped by the front door and covered my face.
“It’s not mine. Logan must have brought a girl home with him.” Auston chuckled. Did Logan bring home girls from the bar often? I imagined what the last woman he’d brought home looked like.
I groaned, burying my hand-covered face in the pillow. “Fuck me,” I whined quietly. “I can’t do that. He thinks you have some bimbo from the bar back here.”
“Well…” Logan smirked, and I smacked him on the arm.
“Logan, be serious. What are we supposed to do?” I looked around the room, looking for an extra door that would never appear. I snapped my fingers when I landed on the window. “I’ll go through there.”
“You’re going out the window?” He raised his brow. “We’re on the third floor.”
I closed my eyes tight enough that little white dots floated through the black space. “We can’t just let him know about this.” I waved my hand between us.
His face straightened out, and he took a deep breath. “Then I guess you have to sneak out.”
I pulled at the hem on Logan’s sweatshirt, huddling behind the closed bedroom door. My heart was racing in my chest, and the feeling of dread was heavy in my stomach. We could get caught. It felt like I was sneaking out of my dad’s house to go to a party in high school. With him, it was pretty easy—he was usually focused on whatever sport was in season. I just had to wait for him to start yelling, and he wouldn’t hear the door open.
Auston was sitting next to his sister on the couch, the one that sat just feet away from the front door. There was only one door. That was why I was wearing Logan’s sweatshirt. It smelled like his cologne and hung to my mid-thigh, but it would mean I didn’t have to stop and grab my sweatshirt from wherever Auston’s sister had set it. Logan would bring it back to me later.
I imagined Auston turning around when the front door opened and seeing me trying to duck out. What would he say? I could already see the inevitable judgment on his face. I could also hear Logan deny everything, even though the evidence was clearly decorating my body in the form of a sweatshirt for a second band I’d never heard of.
Logan nodded at me and pulled the bedroom door open, leaving it cracked behind him. He stomped the few steps into the living room and into the kitchen. The song he whistled was obnoxious, and it probably wasn’t even a real song. It was high-pitched and loud, and it drew glares from the two redheads sitting on the couch.
Before Logan turned into the kitchen, he glanced at me, giving me a slight nod. It was the signal that all the attention was on him. It was my time to go. I pulled the door open quietly, just enough for me to slip through. Squatting down, I stayed as close to the wall as I could and inched towards the door.
In the kitchen, Logan slammed a cabinet door. His whistling got louder when he sat what sounded like a bottle on the counter, and he picked it up and sat it down more than once. I stifled a giggle when he tried to whistle louder and coughed, but I stiffened when Auston spoke.
“Dude, could you be any fucking louder?”
“Probably. Should I try?” Logan went right back to whistling, and when I got to the door, I could barely see him in the kitchen. It looked like he was watching for the door to move.
Auston shook his head, but it was his sister that spoke. “Probably not.” She giggled, and when Auston chuckled, I understood why he thought his sister and I would be good friends. By the sounds of it, she had no problem laying into Logan as much as I sometimes would have liked to.
I grabbed the knob of the front door, turning it and pulling, and when the hinges squeaked, I sucked in a breath. I was sure three sets of eyes would turn in my direction to find me hunched down in a half-lunge position with my just-fucked hair and clothes that weren’t mine. My stomach sank.
