Page 56 of Neat
And he’d told his mom about me.
Why did that make me want to swoon like a fucking Disney character?
“I’m guessing she wasn’t too thrilled that her son was being seduced by Mallory Scooter, huh?”
Logan cocked a brow. “I think we could argue who did the seducing that night.”
“We could, but I’d win.
He let out one bark of a laugh at that, shaking his head. But the smile slipped off his face like a mud slide on the side of the mountain, his mouth pulling to one side. “You could say she wasn’t exactly receptive…” He ran a hand back through his hair, and again, my fingers ached in jealousy. “Not that I should have been surprised, I guess.”
“My father was the same.”
It was his turn to blanch. “You told yourdad?”
I laughed, folding my arms over my chest. “Relax. I didn’t tell him you had my wrists pinned above my head and your hands under my yoga pants.”
He smirked at that, the dimple flashing an appearance on his left cheek before it disappeared again.
“But,” I continued. “My loud mouth brother dropped the bomb that you’d been at the studio helping me, and my dad drew his own conclusions.” I lowered my voice and frowned, mimicking my father’s voice. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be hanging out with him outside of what’s necessary during your training at the distillery.”
I waggled my finger with every word, and Logan chuckled, shaking his head.
“It’s silly, isn’t it?” he asked. “To let some old family feud define what we can and can’t do.”
“It is,” I agreed, and though it sounded like we’d both just admitted that we didn’t give a fuck about what our parents thought, we both knew it wasn’t true. Logan loved his mother and his brothers more than anyone in the world, and I knew it killed him to disappoint them in any way, to let them down. As for me, I had an art studio on the line — one my father would rip away in the blink of an eye if he ever found out what happened between me and Logan.
“So… I guess we should just be…” Logan swallowed. “Friends?”
The way he asked it, the way his eyebrows bent together, his lips flattening — I knew it was a hollow offer.
I nodded. “Sure. Of course.” A smile that felt like a wave of nausea found my lips. “Friends.”
Logan watched me, and I watched him, both of us waiting for something more. It seemed like there were a million unborn words between us, floating in the air, waiting for us to reach out and grab them and bring them to life. When a long moment of silence had passed, Logan bit the inside of his cheek, picking up his highlighter he’d abandoned on the desk when I’d walked in like he was ready to get back to work.
“But,” I said, and his eyes snapped to mine, the highlighter frozen over the page. “I mean… there’s another option, isn’t there?”
Logan dropped the highlighter, leaning back again. “There is?”
“I’m just saying,” I said, voice shakier than I wanted it to be in that moment. I took a sip of my coffee, shrugging. “What if we kept things low key… casual… just between us?” My eyes found his again. “It is what it is, and it’s not what it’s not. Right? No need for anyone to know.”
“Low key,” Logan repeated, like he was tasting the words, checking them for poison with his tongue. “So, friends… with benefits.”
I snorted. “If you want to be twenty-one about it, sure.”
Logan nodded, over and over, just a slight movement of his chin up and down as he considered it. I watched him as he stood, and I expected him to start pacing the office, but instead, he crossed it, closing his door and turning to face me.
His eyes swept over me, sparking a fire low in my stomach.
He wet his lips.
He took a step.
And then I was out of my chair, meeting him in the middle, the two of us crashing together like magnets.
His hands weaved into my hair when he captured my mouth with his own, both of us sighing on an inhale, moaning on the exhale, leaning into each other like we could somehow melt together completely. All the electricity I’d felt that night came back like a tidal wave, and I surrendered to the waves, letting them drown me. I wanted him to fill my lungs, to conquer every breath, to imprison me.
It was a kiss that told me we were both lying. We both wanted more.
