Chapter Fourteen
Logan was in over his head.
He sat on his couch, head in his hands. Last night he’d spent the evening at Jeni’s with the entire female side of her family. Even though they weren’t dating, he’d kind of felt like he was a new boyfriend she’d brought home for dinner.
The fact that she hadn’t invited him was beside the point.
The point was he’d liked the feeling. A lot.
He’d thought about her all damn day, to the point he’d had difficulty concentrating at work. Again. His desire to spend time with her only grew, and this was problematic for several reasons.
First, she didn’t feel the same way.
Second, he hadn’t mentioned this to Andrew, whose good opinion was important to him.
Third, he wanted to approach this—whatever ‘this’ was—from a different angle than ever before. He wanted it to stick, but he had no clue how to do that. All he knew was he wanted to do the opposite of every relationship before he’d met Jeni. Because all of those relationships ended. Most barely even started, and it chipped a piece of his heart away every time someone walked away from him. Contrary to how it looked on the outside, he wanted a relationship that would last forever. He was just shit at going about it.
He frowned when a knock sounded at his door. Standing, he made his way across the room, wishing he had a peephole. It was almost ten o’clock.
Logan opened the door a fraction but swung it open fully when he saw who stood on his porch. “Jeni, what the hell are you doing?”
She shoved a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “I don’t want these.”
He clutched them to his chest, inhaling the sweet smell. “Why not?”
“Don’t send me flowers. I’m not your girlfriend.”
Damn, he wanted to kiss her. “Okay.”
“It’s cold. Can I come in?”
He stepped aside, and she passed by, an unfamiliar scent following her. He set the flowers on a nearby table. “Are you wearing perfume?”
“Maybe.”
Why would she think she needed it? He liked the way she usually smelled.
Logan closed the door and narrowed his eyes. She wore a long, black, wool coat, and his eyes continued to track downward. Her lower calves and ankles were bare, a pair of tennis shoes on her feet. She put a toe to the heel of each shoe and pushed them off.
His pulse quickened, and he immediately shook his head. “Jeni—”
Her hands went to the buttons on the coat, and she spoke over him as she worked each one through. “Did you enjoy yourself last night? Asking my family all sorts of questions about me?” Her fingers slowed a fraction, but kept moving. A sliver of tanned flesh appeared at her collarbone, and Logan’s mouth went dry. “Some people would call that cheating, Logan. I’m disappointed in you. But not so disappointed that I won’t stoop to your level. Two can play at this game.”
The coat dropped to the floor.
Logan’s eyes swept down her body, his jaw following suit. He dropped his chin to his chest and twisted around, his forearm hitting the back of the door and his head landing just below it. “Fuck. Jeni, I ask you again, what the hell are you doing?”
Her body heat closed in from behind. “What does it look like?”
“What are you even wearing?” he croaked out.
“A bikini. I don’t own any lingerie.”
“It’s nice.”
“I know. Turn around, Logan.”
“I can’t.”