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“Well, well, well,” Logan says. “If it isn’t little Peter Parker, all grown up.”
AHHHH
“What’s the name of the last guy you went on a date with?” Brandon demands. “Jere … brian.” I clear my throat. “Jerebrian.” “Sounds like a winner.” “It’s not his fault his parents chose a terrible name.” Or that he doesn’t exist and I made him up just now.
We love jerebrian.
“Or maybe it just needs the right touch.” Logan is suddenly right behind me, his big hand covering mine on the doorknob and his chest pressed against my back. Right touch, indeed. He presses his other hand flat against the door. “It won’t work,” I tell him, flustered as awareness prickles along my hairline at his nearness and the heat of his body behind me. “You have to know just how to—” With no warning, the door flies open. The momentum sends us both flying right into the tiny vestibule. Logan and I land in a tangle of limbs at the bottom of the steep staircase. I don’t register the pain at
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AWWW HE PROTECTED HER HEADDDDD
“I have to be crushing you,” he says. “I’m good,” I say. Really good. To cover up JUST in case he can hear my thoughts and know that I never, ever want him to move, I add, “You’re feeling a little light there, Barnes. Maybe we need to increase your caloric intake. Get the trainer to help pack some more muscle on you.” “I guess you’d know better than anyone.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “I would?” “You’re currently feeling up my abs.” I’m WHAT?
A low growling sound has me whipping my head toward the couch. I don’t see anything, but then I hear it again. It sounds like it belongs in some kind of horror movie. “Do you have a dog?” I ask, still eyeing the sofa. Parker rolls her eyes. “That’s just Mr. Eds. He’s a cat.” “You like cats now? And what kind of name is Mr. Eds? Plural?” “It’s short for Evil Demon Spawn,” she says, like this is a totally normal name for a cat.
“You should watch some of our videos sometime. Maybe you’d be surprised.” “That would mean actually getting on social media.” “You’re such an old man.” “Get off my lawn,” I say, and she laughs again.
“Guess you were right—you can’t be good at everything, Barnes. A fork it is!”
“You did. I thought maybe my deodorant failed or I had a whole head of spinach in my teeth—wait, is spinach sold in heads?” “Nope. Spinach comes in bunches.” “Okay. I checked to see if I had a whole bunch of spinach in my teeth.
“You’re right. They absolutely would.” I sit up and grab a pink sticky note pad and a pen. “Okay, let’s map this out.” Logan rubs his hands together, his eyes sparkling. “Oooh, we’re bringing out the big guns now. Not just any sticky notes but the pink sticky notes.”
“I can’t think of any reason we’d need to kiss on the lips, Logan.” “Maybe not a need. But what if it’s a want?”
“You’re assuming I’d want to kiss you.” “No,” he says. “I didn’t mean you.”
“That’s better,” he says. “Can’t have my Parker unhappy.” My Parker? He may not have told me I look beautiful, but this is somehow ten million times better.
I swallow thickly, then clear my throat. Still, my voice is shaky. “You know I’m not so good with words, Pete.”
“He’s not wrong,” Logan whispers. I elbow him in the side, even as I bask in the compliment. Newsflash: Logan Barnes thinks I’m hot!!!!
Logan feigns a yawn and stretches, taking a quick peek over his shoulder. While I’m busy peeking at the way his biceps strain against his shirt.
“I’d forgotten about the Fud.” “Surprising—given how much time you spent in her office,” I say. Logan chuckles, then gives me a heated look I feel all the way down to my toes. “Does this mean I can’t misbehave?”
I snort when I realize he has a book tucked inside the front of his shirt. “Whatcha got in there?” I ask, pointing toward his stomach. Logan angles his body away from me. “I should have chosen a better hiding spot. I forgot how you like to feel my abs.” “Logan!” I protest, eyeing Emmy, who’s covering her mouth with her hand. “He’s making that sound all wrong. It was one time, and it was an accident.” “Yes. She accidentally groped my abs. Sounds believable, doesn’t it?” he asks Emmy. She holds up both hands, not bothering to hide her laughter now.
“In the spirit of being up front with you, I’m not going to kiss you now.” I hope he can’t feel the disappointment surging through me. “But,” he continues, “not because I don’t want to. In fact, I want to very, very much.”
you can’t trust that a man knows what you mean unless you tell him.
