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For a second, the air between us hung heavy, thick with tension and words neither of us were going to say. Logan traced the spot that had been covered with tears, holding my face still as he did. I darted my tongue across my lips, and he followed it with his stare before he pulled a deep breath into his lungs.
Logan opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he closed it quickly. Whatever he was going to say, he’d thought better of it, replacing the thought with the movement of his body. He took a step closer to me until his chest was against mine, and he leaned in to find my lips with his.
He explored my mouth, and I relaxed against his. Logan held my face still, devouring my mouth with slow, sensuous laps of his tongue. My body weakened, melting into his. If not for my arms locked behind his back, I would’ve fallen to my knees. I hummed against his lips.
While he kissed me, he wasn’t the man that loathed me. He wasn’t the friend I’d fucked a couple of times and promised there wouldn’t be strings attached. With each movement of his lips, he said that none of that was true. He didn’t loathe me, and there was no such thing as no strings attached.
Logan pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against mine and taking a slow, even breath. I was breathing in slow huffs, trying to get my heartbeat to slow down. It felt like it was beating out of my chest, desperate to reach Logan’s. The beating of his heart could be felt through his chest on mine. I wasn’t the only one. His eyes confirmed, glimmering yet narrowed.
“Are you going to come inside?” I asked him, not caring that I’d have to explain it all to Emmy when we walked by her. I just wanted him to come inside. I wanted to dry off and get warm with Logan’s arms around me.
My stomach dropped when he shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?” I whispered, hoping the disappointment didn’t show in my voice.
A half-smile pulled at his lips and his stare searched for mine. “Because if I come inside, I’m not leaving.” He paused to place a soft kiss on my forehead. “You said it yourself. That’s what people who are dating do. We’re not dating.”
I nodded. He was right. I had said it. I had also told him that whatever we were, there were no strings attached. Dropping my arms from around Logan’s waist, I didn’t miss the brief disappointment that crossed his face. It was the same disappointment that had my chest feeling heavier than normal. The butterflies that had been floating around in there now felt like rocks falling one by one into my stomach.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, taking a hesitant step backwards.
Again, I nodded, forming a barely audible “yes.” I didn’t work tomorrow, but I would still go to the bar to see him, and the thought made me nervous.
I was setting myself up to be hurt. It was how it always went. I would let myself believe for a moment that tonight meant he didn’t hate me, that maybe he even had feelings for me, but watching him walk away and back to his car made me doubt every gut feeling. For him, it was no strings attached.
Stupid, Simone. Stupid.
I sighed, twisting the knob and walking into the apartment. I kicked my wet shoes off at the front door, stepping into the living room and causing Emmy to turn around. Her eyes widened, followed by a raised brow.
“What the fuck happened to you?” she asked, half curious and partially amused.
Cocking my head, I rolled my eyes before I swallowed the small lump growing in my throat. “My fucking car broke down. It’s on the side of Highway 131 right now.”
Emmy sat up, her previous smirk replaced with fresh concern. “What? How did you get home? Does Chance know?”
“Logan brought me home,” I said, holding up my hand to silence her when she raised her eyebrows with suspicion she was correct to have. “Don’t start.”
“Don’t start what?” The smile on her face was smug, like she’d known this was going to happen.
I rubbed my finger against my temple. “There’s nothing going on between Logan and me.”
She smirked. “I didn’t say there was. A bit defensive, aren’t you?”
“I said there’s nothing happening between us. I am going to go to bed. It’s been a long night.”
Emmy didn’t say anything as I walked out of the living room and to my bedroom. I stripped from the damp clothes, climbing into my bed and wrapping my blankets around my body. Exhaustion settled over me. I sunk into the mattress, relaxing into the warmth of the sheets.
My pillow was cool against my cheek, and I longed for the feeling of Logan’s fingers on my skin like he’d had them tonight—gently brushing over my cheeks or running up and down my back. The lump in my throat returned, but instead of feeling like I was going to cry, part of me was sure I was going to throw up. There was no way I could be falling for a man that had made it clear he didn’t want me that way. We were just friends.
“We’re just friends,” I repeated out loud.
I tried to believe it as I cupped my tits, wishing it was the friction of his chest against mine. When I pinched my nipple and gasped, I wished we were really friends. I trailed my hand down my stomach, settling it between my legs and trying to imagine there was anybody else here with me besides Logan.
Closing my eyes, I saw his face. I saw the same smirk that pulled at his lips when he’d looked at me in the car, and I shivered. I traced small circles around my clit and dropped my legs farther apart. I was already wet, partially from the adrenaline and the way Logan had looked at me at the front door.
I imagined Logan crawling up the bed and settling between my legs, and when I brushed my finger across my clit again, I imagined it was his tongue. It was his fingers when I sunk my own into my pussy and sighed.
“Logan,” I whimpered, using my thumb to continue the circles around the sensitive nub.
