Page 67 of The Opposite of Romance
I break the kiss first. “Need to pee,” I whisper, making him chuckle.
I leave for the bathroom to do my thing, expecting to find him half-dressed when I get back. Rather, I find him nestled in my bed, the dirty comforter bunched up on the floor in the room’s corner. He flashes me a blinding smile, most of him covered with a sheet, but his mouthwatering biceps on full display.
I thought he’d want to bounce as soon as we’re done, but he doesn’t look like he’s planning to leave.
“I should grab a shower.” I point a thumb back at the bathroom.
“There’s time for that. Come.” He motions for me to join him, and I follow like I’m hypnotized.
I’m kind of freaking out. A million questions plague my mind. I want to be alone to freak out in peace. But he doesn’t let me. Rather, he pulls me close to him until I rest my head on his chest. He lands a soft kiss to my hair.
Another round of goosebumps prickles my skin, but the voices in my head quiet. A few moments later, I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Scent of coffeepenetrates my nostrils as my eyes slowly open. I feel like I’ve slept for a week. I rub the morning fog from my eyes, only to find a fresh cup on my nightstand.
That’s weird.Neither Liv nor Asher know how to use the new coffee machine.
No, they’re at David’s.
But…
Shit.
Images of yesterday attack my brain all at once, like I’m in a sci-fi movie where they just restored my memory.
I think it’s safe to say I like you.
The kiss.
The sex.God, the sex.
And then, me falling asleep. But it wasn’t even nighttime when I fell asleep. My phone is right next to the coffee cup, so I check the time.
9 am.
Fuck. I’ve must have slept for almost fifteen hours straight. That’s unheard of. Ever since I gave birth to Liv, actual sleep has been a distant memory. Don’t get me wrong, I get six to seven hours a night, but I always feel on call—like I need to be ready incase my kids need me. I don’t even fully relax when they’re at David’s, used to worrying about them.
But I don’t remember a single thing since I fell asleep last night. Not a noise that awoken me, not a thought that popped into my head. I exhale a relieved breath, realizing that I don’t have any missed calls—meaning my kids are safe and nothing bad happened.
I sit up on the bed, taking a sip of the coffee to clear my head. It’s perfect, just the right amount of sugar and cream. It’s also still hot, which means Logan is most likely still here. Shit, I’m positive he hasn’t planned to stay the night.
After quickly brushing my teeth, I throw on some clothes and make my way downstairs. My steps are careful, apprehensive, not knowing what to expect.
But I find Logan in the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless, humming a melody under his breath. Instinctively, I look around, searching for hidden cameras waiting to lull me into a false sense of security before someone jumps out and tells me I’ve been set up.
No cameras detected, I clear my throat, making him turn around.
“Morning,” he says with a smile. His broad shoulders reveal eggs and bacon he’s frying on the pan and my mouth waters. “Hope you don’t mind me helping myself to your kitchen.”
“No, of course not.” My voice trails off. “How did you get my coffee right?”
“You handed meyourcoffee instead of mine once.” He shrugs.
I remember that. I handed him the wrong cup and almost died at the bitter taste of his sugar-free black coffee.Why would he remember that?
I clear my throat again, not sure what to say to that. “Breakfast?”
