Page 124 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

“Yeah, well,” I say, stiffly, “Jonah the Rich and Famous probably isn’t lacking much in charisma.”

Katrina leans back, that teasing smile blooming. “Logan, are you jealous of Jonah?”

“Should I be?” I stare at her as the floor threatens to fall out from under me. “Are you still in love with him?”

She pauses. “Part of me is always going to love Jonah,” she says carefully. “He’s one of my best friends.”

“I didn’t ask if you love him,” I say. “I asked if you’rein lovewith him.”

The silence stretches. Long. Heavy.

“Logan—”

I stand. “That’s a yes.”

“It’s not.” She catches my hand before I can get too far. “Logan, it’s not a yes. But it’s not a no, either. Someday, I’ll have a simple answer for you. But today…” She squeezes my hand. “Before, whenever Jonah walked into a room, it was like time would slow down. My heart would skip. My stomach would flutter. But that feeling?” Her eyes lock on mine. “It’s nothing compared to what I felt waking up in your arms this morning.”

The sharp grief trying to claw through my chest eases. Not all the way. Just enough to breathe.

“You don’t have to worry, Logan.” She smiles, her thumb grazing my hand. “I’m yours.”

When she tugs on my hand, I have no choice but to follow her back down. I kiss her, the echo of her words radiating through me, fusing my soul to hers.

She’s mine.

And I’m hers.

“I love you, Katrina,” I whisper against her skin.

Her breath hitches. “I love you, too, Logan.”

I shake my head slightly. Part of me didn’t expect her to say it back. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t—that maybe it’d scare her off. But her kiss deepens, not with fear, but with something fierce and full of fire.

She pulls back, scanning my face like she sees something flickering behind my eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I say, forcing it down. “Just relieved. I thought I’d be spending the night drying your tears.”

“So did I,” she says softly, her eyes bright. “But when we win The Battle of the Bands, I’ll be happy to dryyours.”

“Ifyou win,” I tease.

She narrows her eyes at me, smug and defiant. “Whenwe win,” she says, kissing me again. “Until then, I’m basically locked in all-day band practice through Sunday.”

“So am I,” I say. “Priscilla’s back in town, so…”

“So the next few days are going to be a blur of epic training montages set to rock music?”

I chuckle. “Yeah.”

She sighs, dramatic. “Then we probably won’t see each other again until the meeting with Pam on the 30th.”

The way she says it—it drips with longing. With heat.

I lean into it, letting her pull me under. Letting go of everything that could unravel me if I let it.

“Does that mean you have to leave?” I ask, our noses brushing.

She smiles. “Not right away.”

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