drained, using it as a distraction.
“You know, I have to ask: why did you feel the necessity
to bathe while home alone in your condition?”
“My condition?” I hissed, pursing my lips.
The water was draining quickly, the last of it circling
the drain with a final loud gulp.
He recoiled, his eyes soft and rueful. “I didn’t mean…”
He sighed.
“Yeah, I get it. You know what? Just hand me my cell and
you can go.”
He stood and left the room. Was he really leaving that
quickly?
He stepped back in a moment later with another towel he
must’ve grabbed from the hall closet. His little house check earlier had him
way too familiar with where things were.
“I’m not leaving you here like this. You’ll freeze.” He
bent down, his face inches from mine. “Your lips are nearly blue.”
His lips were perfection. I looked away. No, not
perfection—deceit.
He held up the second towel but didn’t lay it over me. Instead,
he held it up, blocking my view of him.
What was he doing? My brows pulled in.
“Let go of the curtain and use the towel I gave you to
cover yourself,” he explained.
Oh.
“No peeking!”
The towel shook in his hands as he chuckled. I released
my clammy grip on the vinyl reluctantly and pushed it behind me, quickly
wrapping the towel back over me.
“Okay,” I said, nerves buzzing. Being naked that close to
Logan began to stir the desire I feared I someday wouldn’t be able to push back
down.
Logan covered me with the towel in his hands and smiled.
“I’m going to lift you out. Don’t be stubborn—put all your weight on me.”
I prepared for the closeness as he slid his hand under my
damp, quivering legs and behind my back.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his rough voice barely above a
whisper.
A shiver shot through me and I nodded, thankful for the
candlelight that hid my terror as the pressure of his embrace seared into my
skin. It felt so…right.
My teeth caught the inside of my bottom lip, determined
to hide any revealing emotions. I interlocked my hands around his neck, his
clean, familiar scent so close my head dropped of its own volition into the
nook of his neck.
I’d never been more aware of my own body as I felt his
brush against mine with every step he took as he clutched me in his arms. His
scorching hands imprinted into my flesh as he carried me to my bedroom without
a word and sat me on the corner of my bed.
The towel was clutched tightly in my grip against my
chest as I turned away from him, desperate to hide both my nudity and the wound
on my thigh. It hung open in the back, since it was draped over the front of me
and my hands weren’t flexible enough to keep it closed in the back. I rushed to
bring the covers up in time to cover my behind.
Logan was standing at the edge of the bed directly behind
me, and the moment I grabbed the blanket was too late. I’d been too focused on
my backside that I’d let down my guard and hadn’t noticed the towel slipping
away from my thigh, revealing my worst.
I couldn’t look back up at him, feeling his intense gaze on
the wound. The clear bandage I’d placed over it to protect the stitches from
becoming saturated hid nothing.
My head dropped. I’d never felt uglier.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him hunch down and fall
to his knees. I closed my eyes.
Yes, this is what you did to me.
It was wrong. He wasn’t solely to blame. It wasn’t him
drinking and driving. It wasn’t he who flew through the red light and nearly
destroyed me. It was he, however, who caused me to lose my head and get in that
car without a seat belt. It was he who put me there with tears clouding my
vision.
My thoughts were interrupted by the touch of his warm
palm settling on my leg beside the bandage—inspecting it, from what I caught from
my sidelong glance at him. My stomach flipped, heart pounding feverishly as the
nerve endings in my leg jittered and buzzed to life. My eyelids snapped shut as
Logan mimicked the skillful ease of
“You know, I have to ask: why did you feel the necessity
to bathe while home alone in your condition?”
“My condition?” I hissed, pursing my lips.
The water was draining quickly, the last of it circling
the drain with a final loud gulp.
He recoiled, his eyes soft and rueful. “I didn’t mean…”
He sighed.
“Yeah, I get it. You know what? Just hand me my cell and
you can go.”
He stood and left the room. Was he really leaving that
quickly?
He stepped back in a moment later with another towel he
must’ve grabbed from the hall closet. His little house check earlier had him
way too familiar with where things were.
“I’m not leaving you here like this. You’ll freeze.” He
bent down, his face inches from mine. “Your lips are nearly blue.”
His lips were perfection. I looked away. No, not
perfection—deceit.
He held up the second towel but didn’t lay it over me. Instead,
he held it up, blocking my view of him.
What was he doing? My brows pulled in.
“Let go of the curtain and use the towel I gave you to
cover yourself,” he explained.
Oh.
“No peeking!”
The towel shook in his hands as he chuckled. I released
my clammy grip on the vinyl reluctantly and pushed it behind me, quickly
wrapping the towel back over me.
“Okay,” I said, nerves buzzing. Being naked that close to
Logan began to stir the desire I feared I someday wouldn’t be able to push back
down.
Logan covered me with the towel in his hands and smiled.
“I’m going to lift you out. Don’t be stubborn—put all your weight on me.”
I prepared for the closeness as he slid his hand under my
damp, quivering legs and behind my back.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his rough voice barely above a
whisper.
A shiver shot through me and I nodded, thankful for the
candlelight that hid my terror as the pressure of his embrace seared into my
skin. It felt so…right.
My teeth caught the inside of my bottom lip, determined
to hide any revealing emotions. I interlocked my hands around his neck, his
clean, familiar scent so close my head dropped of its own volition into the
nook of his neck.
I’d never been more aware of my own body as I felt his
brush against mine with every step he took as he clutched me in his arms. His
scorching hands imprinted into my flesh as he carried me to my bedroom without
a word and sat me on the corner of my bed.
The towel was clutched tightly in my grip against my
chest as I turned away from him, desperate to hide both my nudity and the wound
on my thigh. It hung open in the back, since it was draped over the front of me
and my hands weren’t flexible enough to keep it closed in the back. I rushed to
bring the covers up in time to cover my behind.
Logan was standing at the edge of the bed directly behind
me, and the moment I grabbed the blanket was too late. I’d been too focused on
my backside that I’d let down my guard and hadn’t noticed the towel slipping
away from my thigh, revealing my worst.
I couldn’t look back up at him, feeling his intense gaze on
the wound. The clear bandage I’d placed over it to protect the stitches from
becoming saturated hid nothing.
My head dropped. I’d never felt uglier.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him hunch down and fall
to his knees. I closed my eyes.
Yes, this is what you did to me.
It was wrong. He wasn’t solely to blame. It wasn’t him
drinking and driving. It wasn’t he who flew through the red light and nearly
destroyed me. It was he, however, who caused me to lose my head and get in that
car without a seat belt. It was he who put me there with tears clouding my
vision.
My thoughts were interrupted by the touch of his warm
palm settling on my leg beside the bandage—inspecting it, from what I caught from
my sidelong glance at him. My stomach flipped, heart pounding feverishly as the
nerve endings in my leg jittered and buzzed to life. My eyelids snapped shut as
Logan mimicked the skillful ease of
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