Page 48 of Attractive Forces
He ducks and dodges to escape me, then pulls up to send it arcing perfectly into the hoop. Nothing but net.
I grab the ball but only manage a few dribbles before Logan swipes it away from me and scores again.
My basketball game has improved since I started tutoring Logan, not that you can tell right now.
Because instead of my gaze locking onto the ball, I keep getting distracted by parts of Logan’s body. The curve of his bicep. His well-defined calf muscles. The point where his neck curves down under his T-shirt.
“Phew. It’s hot.” Logan uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Giving me a glimpse of his abs in the process.
I swallow, looking away.
“Actually…” Logan peels off his shirt, and now there’s no way I can avoid looking at his body. All that expanse of golden skin.
His blue-green eyes meet mine, and something pulses between us.
He starts dribbling the ball, and I tentatively go in to get it from him. My chest collides with his, my mouth going dry as I feel his heat through my T-shirt. Logan doesn’t pull back immediately, so for a few brief, glorious seconds, our bodies are pressed together.
I stumble back. What the hell is happening here?
There’s a weird look on Logan’s face as he stands there, staring at me.
He seems to shake himself. “I guess we better get back to it. Those isotopes aren’t going to learn themselves.”
Thank god Logan pulls his T-shirt back on. I can breathe again.
Does he know? The question churns inside me as we climb the stairs. Was that some kind of test? If so, did I pass or fail?
Logan sits at the desk. I take my seat too, shuffling over in my chair to try to put some distance between us.
But it’s not enough.
“So, what are we doing now?” Logan licks his lips, turning them a glossy pink. Oh lord, help me.
“Um…I thought you could do some more practice questions.” Anything to give me a break from talking to him, making that intense eye contact.
“Okay.”
Fingers fumbling, I manage to flick through to the right page in the textbook.
He jots the key points down and starts working through the first part of the problem.
A small line marks the golden skin of his forehead as he concentrates. I’m almost overcome with the impulse to reach out and smooth it.
Shit.
I grab the textbook and scramble a retreat to my bed.
Logan looks up from the question. “Why are you over there?”
I swallow. Yeah, I’m not about to explain why it’s dangerous for me to be close to him right now.
“Just wanted to help you resist the temptation to look at the answers,” I say.
Logan furrows his brow. “I’ve done the first part. Can I check it’s right?”
“No cheating, Madison.” I shake my head in mock exasperation. “You’re going to have to work out the complete answer.”
“At least let me see if I got this part correct,” he wheedles.
