Page 35 of Playing with Fire

Lyla: So any update on the sexy single dad situation?

Me: Where do I start?

Me: I got a flat on my way home from the bar last night and ended up calling him...

Nicole: Yay! Did he come without question?

Me: Yup.

Mia: Told you. So there ya go. You got your answer. Now what are you going to do about it?

Me: Not so fast. It's more complicated than that.

Mia: How?

Nicole: Let her fill us in.

Me: He said the absolute sexiest things and then almost kissed me. But after he changed my tire, he told me to go home and walked away from me.

Me: Then I decided I didn't care. I was over his game. So this morning I basically told him that.

Mia: Attagirl!

Me: Yup.

Nicole: But?

Me: Ugh. But then he almost hugged me in front of my brother this afternoon and called me sweetheart.

Me: Like seriously, what do I do?

Mia: Screw him. And I don't mean literally.

Lyla: He called you sweetheart in front of Jay? Sounds to me like you have your answer. Now you need to decide if you like him enough to give him a chance.

Nicole: Have you seen or talked to him since then?

Me: No.

Nicole: I think it all depends on what he says when he gets home tonight.

Lyla: True. Keep us posted!

* * *

The last threehours crawled by. Probably because I was back to second-guessing where I stood with Logan. He made me so mad I could scream. But the minute he gripped my shoulder and went to pull me in for a hug, freaking stupid butterflies took off in my stomach.

And then he called me sweetheart again. In front of my brother. Like what the hell?

I made it super freaking clear this morning that I was done playing this hot and cold game with him. Did I jump to conclusions? Although I didn't think so after the way he walked away last night. Damn him and making me question everything again.

I finished up the girls’ bedtime routine and busied myself by cleaning up the kitchen. I held my breath when I heard the front door open and close. Drying my hands, I spun just in time to see him step into the kitchen.

We stood there, staring at each other. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, scared to move or say anything that would ruin whatever moment we were having. Because the way he looked at me—it stole my breath. And just like last night, I wanted more.

My breath hitched as he began moving toward me with a determination I could feel, and I made my feet move, meeting him halfway. His arms wrapped around my back as mine wound around his neck. Pulling me against him, he lifted me slightly off the ground and claimed my mouth.

Holy hell, could he kiss. His tongue demanded access, and he explored every inch of my mouth. My breaths came faster, and my core throbbed. Had I ever felt this turned on? This desperate?

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