Page 52 of Riding the Sugar High

When I nod, he shrugs. “And where do I sleep?”

It’s my turn to look confused as I say, “Here, of course.”

“You want to sleep inmybed, with me?”

I guess? It’s weird—I know it is. Logan and I are basically strangers, and I’ve only ever shared a bed with one man. But the thought of lying in bed by myself, my heart in my throat as I think of today, is making my skin itch everywhere. “I don’t want to be alone.”

With a sigh, he scoots to the left. “Fine.”

I slide under the blanket as he takes one of the two pillows under his head and sets it on my side. “Good night.”

“No snuggles, huh?” I tease.

“I don’t know, Barbie,” he says as he tilts his head. “I reserve most of my snuggling for sex. Interested?” When I roll my eyes, he smacks his pillow and huffs out a “Thought so.”

I still, tapping my fingers on my stomach as I stare at the ceiling. He wakes up early to feed the animals, and working in the fields is more forgiving when the sun isn’t at its hottest.

Ugh, now I feel bad for having woken him up.

“Are you sure you don’t want a cuddle?” I offer, breaking the utter silence with my version of an apology. “You can be the small spoon.”

“Jesus Christ.” He chuckles, low and throaty, then cups his face with both hands as he lets out a long groan. When he turns to me, he smiles wide, a hint of frustration the way his tongue rims his upper lip. Our faces are close together, and his blue-gray eyes are magnetic. “You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“Am I?” When he nods, I shrug. “Is it a bad thing?”

“No.”

“Because I think it’s ridiculous not to have a TV.”

“Hmm.”

“In fact, if you had a TV, I probably would have put on a movie and fallen straight to sleep.”

He clicks his tongue. “Now Ialsowish I had a TV.”

I switch positions on the pillow to get closer to him. “So, number ten?”

“What’s that?”

“Cuddle me.”

“I thought you were supposed to cuddle me.”

“Do youwant meto cuddle you?”

His mouth opens, then closes. “Just sleep.”

“I can’t,” I say with a sigh as I cup my belly. “I swear I’m getting a stress-induced stomachache.”

“Come on, close your eyes.” When I don’t, he scowls. “Right now, Barbie.”

I do as he says, trying to breathe through my nausea. In the silence, my thoughts whirl until I can feel myself drift off, then the slightest touch to my forehead brings me back. I open my eyes to find Logan tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, and when he notices I’m watching him, he rolls his eyes. “I said sleep.”

I close my eyes, then smile.

I don’t care what he says.

That counted as a cuddle.

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