Page 50 of Everything Has Changed
“That blush on your cheeks says otherwise.”
I slap my hands on my cheeks to cover them up, causing her to laugh again. And the sound is so nice that I can’t help but reciprocate until we are both doubled over. I only stop because a noise echoes through the hallway. Kennedy catches my questioning look toward my front door and immediately sobers up from our giggle fit.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, still focused on listening through the walls and into the hallway. That’s when I hear another bump, this time clearly on the wall outside my apartment, followed by a muffled curse.
“I think someone’s outside,” I whisper to my sister as I get to my feet and tiptoe to the door.
“Take me with you!” She whisper shouts. I reach back to grab my phone, sending a playful glare her way.
“You going to punch my intruder through the phone, sis?”
“If I have to.”
I continue my trek to the front door, making as little noise as possible as I stand on my toes to get a look out of the peephole.
“I don’t see—oh!”
“What is it? Don’t leave me hanging. Do I need to call 911? Or Jackson?”
I shush my sister as I peek back through the glass again. Just in time to see Logan pick his head up and look right at the door. I know he can’t see me, but my heart rate picks up as our eyes meet through the door. He’s leaning with one arm against the wall opposite my entrance. The white button-down that always sets off his natural tan in a delicious way looks more wrinkled than it was when I saw him earlier. The first few buttons are undone, showcasing more of his defined chest than I had been privy to, well, ever. His hair looks like he’s spent the last few hours running his hands through it and pulling at the roots.
But it’s his eyes that give me the extra pause. They’re glassy. Red rimmed like he’s been rubbing at them.
“Is he drunk?” I whisper mostly to myself as I actually forgot Kennedy is on the phone with me until she speaks up.
“Who is drunk?”
I jump out of my skin at the reminder she’s still on the call. Looking at the screen, I relax my grimace to ease her worry. “Just my neighbor,” I say. Not that she knows exactly who my neighbor is and she wouldn’t be finding out in this moment. “I should go check on them. I’m going to let you go.”
“Gwen, you better take me with you! Or I will call Jacks.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s harmless, trust me. I’m just going to make sure he can find his apartment. I don’t want him sleeping in the hallway.”
“Fine, but you better text me when you’re done so I know you are safe.Better yet, send me a selfie.”
“Anything for you, sis. Love you!” I disconnect the call quickly after she repeats my goodbye and pocket my phone in my hoodie.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for the door, quickly ripping it open. Though I should have checked the peephole first, because his drunken fist almost connects with my face. He’s leaning heavily against the doorframe, staring quizzically at his fist. Probably wondering why it didn’t actually touch the metal of the door until his unfocused eyes snag on me.
Logan’s lips curl in a dopey smile that would usually have me reciprocating, but his feet seem to give way at the same time. I reach out to stop him from hitting the doorframe with his face, my hand taking the brunt of the force between his cheek and the metal.
I must wince, because suddenly Logan’s happy face morphs into pure concern. He tries to reach up and grab the hand still on his face, missing a couple of times before finally sticking the landing.
“It’s fine, Logan.”
“Shh, let me look,” he slurs. Bringing my hand close to his face, he squints one eye and examines the red mark forming along the back of my hand. I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold. Then, ever so gently, he leans his face down. When his lips connect softly with my skin, an explosion of tingles erupts where we touch.
I inhale sharply, his eyes jumping up to meet mine at the sound. Whatever he sees within them has the dopey look returning, his hazel eyes swirling with intensity.
“Hi,” he breathes out, which only makes me even more aware of the scent wafting off of him.
“Logan,” I start. He nods as his gaze tracks around my face, down to my lips, the tips of my hair over my shoulder, then back up once more. I dip my head to stop his visual exploration from going any further. “How much have you had to drink?”
He attempts a shrug, but it throws him off balance again. This time I’m not quick enough to stop his shoulder from slamming into the edge of the door. He doesn’t feel it right now, if the lack of reaction is any indication, but I bet he will tomorrow.
“Dunno, like one?”
