Me: Plans tonight?
My heart raced with each minute that passed.
Logan: None.
Me: You want to come over? I want to talk to you.
Logan: Sure. Be over in ten.
Well, that was easy, and fast, as everything since meeting Logan had been. Effortless, smooth—all except for the intense battle that raged between my mind and my heart. My heart told me not to want another taste because it would cost me too much, but my mind tried to rationalize all we could be if we were brave enough to try.
No.
Friends.
I would make that clear, and we’d go back to normal.
No muss, no fuss.
I rolled my eyes at myself and hurried to tidy up the few stray dishes I’d left in the sink.
Before I could even think about changing out of my yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt, a knock sounded at my door.
I told my stomach to stop fluttering, and swung the door open.
Logan stood there looking incredible in a white thermal and jeans, his dark eyes slightly cautious. Hesitant.
Damn it. The kiss was already changing things between us. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate with me. He would’ve pushed right past me, babbling about something like we were already in the middle of a conversation.
I motioned him in, holding back a small whimper at his scent as he walked past me. Who smells that good?
“So,” Logan said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against my kitchen island.
“So,” I mimicked him, electing to lean against the counter opposite him.
He pressed his lips together, something churning in his eyes.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” I finally said, breaking the awkward silence. “The kiss, it was a mistake.”
Logan released a breath, and I couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment on his face.
“Not that it wasn’t amazing,” I hurried to add. “But, as you know, I’m…well, I’m all fucked up when it comes to relationships. Major trust issues.”
“You’ve told me but never explained what happened,” he said, shocking me at his lack of addressing the mistake theory.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, the pain from my past rushing up to greet me with a fresh wave of sting. “I…” I sighed, even with how close we were, I wasn’t ready to give Logan every single dark detail from my past. “My ex broke my trust in a bad way.” I cringed at the memory. “An incredibly, horribly bad way. And I haven’t trusted another man since.” My eyes darted up to his. “But our friendship, Logan,” I said, pushing past my nerves. “It means so much to me. I haven’t felt this connected to anyone…ever. And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to ruin it. I just found you, and if I did something to totally fuck up what we have then I’ll never forgive myself.” The words left me in a rush of breath.
Logan pushed off the counter, stepping closer to me, tipping up my chin to meet his gaze. “You could never ruin anything, Delaney,” he said, his voice soft, soothing. “And if you think it was a mistake, then it was a mistake. I’ll never force you into something you don’t want.”
But I do want you.
I want you so badly.
The words got stuck in my throat.
“And I understand the trust issues. You know I do,” he said, dropping his hand but not backing away. “There are specifics I haven’t shared with you either, and I’m not ready for anything more than what we have,” he admitted, raking a hand through his dark hair. “And what happened in the library…I didn’t mean to send a mixed signal. I just couldn’t not kiss you.”
A flare of heat pulsed right down the center of me at the hunger in those eyes, as if he were right back in those stacks, claiming my mouth like he’d done it a thousand times.
“Okay,” I said, nodding slowly. “Friends?” I asked.
A small smile shaped his lips. “Friends.”
Some tight, coiled part of me released at his agreement, and I chuckled nervously. “Well, now that we got all the awkward out of the way.”
Logan laughed too, the tension between us bursting like a popped bubble.
“What do you want to do tonight?” I asked. “Go out?”
He shook his head. “I kind of don’t want to be around people tonight.”
I arched a brow at him. “I’m people,” I said.
“True,” he said, nodding. “But you’re the only person I want to see. Is that okay?”
I swallowed hard. “Sure.”
His eyes darted around my kitchen before he moved by me to get to my fridge. He swung it open, scanning the contents before glancing over his shoulder. “Can I make you dinner?”
My lips parted on a surprised gasp. “You want to cook me dinner?”
His brows raised as he tilted his head. “Yes.” He turned his attention back toward the fridge. “Looks like you’ve got all the ingredients for Carbonara.”