Page 48 of Breathless

Smiling to myself, I flop back on the bed. I’m pretty sure Logan has never told any of his fangirls things would continue when they gothome.

Common sense battles with my emotions, warning me that I am more invested in this emotionally than I have any right to be when the only thing we’ve done is kiss. I shut down that train of thought before I sabotage my mood and reach for his phone, which lights up withnotifications.

I chuckle at his drunk dudebrotexts.

Patrick:Cant find my walllllet. Got acondum?

Cash:This chick puked on my shoe. Im gonna be sick from thesmell.

Sam:Youre suck an asshole. Why cant you comeover?

Jordy:I just pissed on a cat.Wuuups

How those knuckleheads survive is beyondme.

I’m still scrolling through Netflix when Logan returns and our puppy gives me a happy littleARF!

“Hey, cuteness.” I lean over the bed to pick upRambo.

“Careful. He’s still damp. I washed his feet before I brought him inside so he wouldn’t track insand.”

“Good thinking.” I jump up and grab some towels to make a nook for Rambo on the floor next to me. He must be wiped out from a day at the beach because he promptly curlsup.

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed when a big arm wraps around my waist and pulls meback.

Giggling like an idiot, I settle back against Logan’s barechest.

“You’re so warm.” He nuzzles his face against my neck, and I squirm from the shock of his coldextremities.

“You’re an icicle.” With concerted effort, I sit up and yank the covers over us before we lean against the headboard and a fewpillows.

With only the side lamp on andBack to the Futureglowing from his phone, we settle in to watch something we’ve seen a million timestogether.

But I can’t focus on the movie. My attention is too drawn to the way his arm drapes over my shoulder and his thumb slides up and down my bare arm. I’m too cognizant of the rise and fall of his chest against my side and his scruffy chin at my temple. Too aware of the roughness of his jeans against my barelegs.

Half of the movie is over, but all I can think about is how his other hand is now resting on my hip, his fingers toying with my T-shirt that’s drawn up over mystomach.

A hot, heady beat drums between mylegs.

He smells amazing. Like the ocean scent of his body wash and the faint smell of leather. Like a man. Not the kid who taught me how to farmer snot or the teenager who didn’t always shower after he gotsweaty.

By the time the movie is over, I’m slick and hot and so turned on, my eyes arecrossing.

He leans over to click off the lamp, leaving the moonlight streaming through the window, and like we already know the drill, we reach for each other in the dark. Rough hands pull me over his body. My legs straddle his hips. My hands land in hishair.

His are on myrear.

Sweet, drugging kisses make me writhe on top of him where his jeans scrape my thighs and his bulge bumps up against the most sensitive part ofme.

“I’m not…” I gasp for breath. “I don’t really know how to dothis.”

The embarrassing confession bursts out of me, words I can’t take back. Words I wish Icould.

So stupid, Joey. Why can’t you deal like anadult?

He stills beneath me, his chest rising and falling just as quickly as mine. “So it’s… been a while? Or are yousaying…”

“I’m not a virgin. I mean. Yeah,no.”

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