purgatory,
tortured by demons you can’t imagine.”
He removes his hand, our lips only inches
apart. I refrain from closing the distance between us, knowing it’s
wrong; I set out to assist the guy, not torture him even more.
“I’ll help you, but you have to trust me,” I
tell him, my chest rising and falling with irregular breaths. “I
can’t do this if you aren’t on board one hundred percent, got
it?”
He nods.
“First things first, take a shower,” I say,
pushing him off me and wrinkling my nose for an added effect. He
blushes a little. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I’m not judging you; I
know you can’t help it. Now, go.” I hold out my arm, pointing
toward the bathroom. “When you’re finished, I’ll wash your
clothes.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he
says.
“We have an agreement, don’t we? I’m not
going to let you just . . . rot.”
His eyebrows tighten together. “So, now I’m
rotting?”
“Worse,” I say. “You smell like dry dirt and
B.O.” I emphasize this with a yuck . “And yes, you might be
rotting on the inside. There’s no telling what drugs have done to
you.”
“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way.” Without
breaking eye contact, he strips off his shirt.
And his jeans.
And— gasp! —his boxers.
Oh, holy mother. I can’t close my mouth, or
avert my eyes. Pull yourself together, Chloe!
“Like what you see?” asks Logan, with a big,
cheesy grin on his face.
“Just . . . shoo!” I turn my head away and
wave toward the bathroom.
Logan laughs, deep and throaty. “You don’t
want to join me?”
Don’t tempt me, son of Aphrodite! “Um, no.” I clear my throat. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says.
I jerk my head around to face him, eyes
wide. “I-I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, you said it,” he adds promptly. “You
said it, and there’s no Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card lying around, so
guess what that means?”
I try swallowing the knot in my throat.
“It means your naked ass will be mine.
Soon.” He still has that cheap smile plastered to his face as he
closes the bathroom door behind him.
Eight • Logan
W hat am I doing? I
mean, really. I need to grab a hold of my balls and act like a
fucking man, not spend my time dicking around with Chloe. She’ll be
gone within a couple of months, and if I don’t clean up before
then, well, I’m shit out of luck. No returning home and patching
things up with the fam. No playing football with Lucas on the front
lawn. This is my life we’re attempting to transform. I need
to stop jacking off and focus on what’s important.
But Chloe is too damn intoxicating. Yeah, I
guess that’s the right word. Her hair smells like a cool ocean
breeze and is as bright as the sun, and her curvy lips are just begging me to kiss them. That or it’s my fucked-up mind
playing tricks on me. I could’ve opened her mouth with mine, let my
tongue discover hers. She thought about it, too. I saw the way she
watched my lips hovering three inches away; she wanted me to
kiss her.
And I’m a fucking idiot because I didn’t.
Instead, I had to conduct a striptease in the middle of her room
and ask if she liked the view, or some shit. Why’d you do that,
Logan? Why, why, why? asks one-half of my brain. The other half
is saying, You want her as much as she wants you. Don’t
stop.
No. This ends here, in her bathroom. Odd
place, I know, but if I don’t stop myself now, I’m not entirely
sure what will become of us later. And I don’t want to ruin her
friendship, especially when she’s trying to help me get my old life
back.
“Hey, Logan?”
I freeze. Her voice is barely audible over
the running water. “Yeah?”
“I brought you a couple of towels. I’ll just
set them over here.”
I have no idea where “here” is, but that’s
nice of her. “Okay, thanks.”
She closes the door, and I can breathe
again. Funny how five minutes ago I didn’t care
tortured by demons you can’t imagine.”
He removes his hand, our lips only inches
apart. I refrain from closing the distance between us, knowing it’s
wrong; I set out to assist the guy, not torture him even more.
“I’ll help you, but you have to trust me,” I
tell him, my chest rising and falling with irregular breaths. “I
can’t do this if you aren’t on board one hundred percent, got
it?”
He nods.
“First things first, take a shower,” I say,
pushing him off me and wrinkling my nose for an added effect. He
blushes a little. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed. I’m not judging you; I
know you can’t help it. Now, go.” I hold out my arm, pointing
toward the bathroom. “When you’re finished, I’ll wash your
clothes.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he
says.
“We have an agreement, don’t we? I’m not
going to let you just . . . rot.”
His eyebrows tighten together. “So, now I’m
rotting?”
“Worse,” I say. “You smell like dry dirt and
B.O.” I emphasize this with a yuck . “And yes, you might be
rotting on the inside. There’s no telling what drugs have done to
you.”
“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way.” Without
breaking eye contact, he strips off his shirt.
And his jeans.
And— gasp! —his boxers.
Oh, holy mother. I can’t close my mouth, or
avert my eyes. Pull yourself together, Chloe!
“Like what you see?” asks Logan, with a big,
cheesy grin on his face.
“Just . . . shoo!” I turn my head away and
wave toward the bathroom.
Logan laughs, deep and throaty. “You don’t
want to join me?”
Don’t tempt me, son of Aphrodite! “Um, no.” I clear my throat. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says.
I jerk my head around to face him, eyes
wide. “I-I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, you said it,” he adds promptly. “You
said it, and there’s no Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card lying around, so
guess what that means?”
I try swallowing the knot in my throat.
“It means your naked ass will be mine.
Soon.” He still has that cheap smile plastered to his face as he
closes the bathroom door behind him.
Eight • Logan
W hat am I doing? I
mean, really. I need to grab a hold of my balls and act like a
fucking man, not spend my time dicking around with Chloe. She’ll be
gone within a couple of months, and if I don’t clean up before
then, well, I’m shit out of luck. No returning home and patching
things up with the fam. No playing football with Lucas on the front
lawn. This is my life we’re attempting to transform. I need
to stop jacking off and focus on what’s important.
But Chloe is too damn intoxicating. Yeah, I
guess that’s the right word. Her hair smells like a cool ocean
breeze and is as bright as the sun, and her curvy lips are just begging me to kiss them. That or it’s my fucked-up mind
playing tricks on me. I could’ve opened her mouth with mine, let my
tongue discover hers. She thought about it, too. I saw the way she
watched my lips hovering three inches away; she wanted me to
kiss her.
And I’m a fucking idiot because I didn’t.
Instead, I had to conduct a striptease in the middle of her room
and ask if she liked the view, or some shit. Why’d you do that,
Logan? Why, why, why? asks one-half of my brain. The other half
is saying, You want her as much as she wants you. Don’t
stop.
No. This ends here, in her bathroom. Odd
place, I know, but if I don’t stop myself now, I’m not entirely
sure what will become of us later. And I don’t want to ruin her
friendship, especially when she’s trying to help me get my old life
back.
“Hey, Logan?”
I freeze. Her voice is barely audible over
the running water. “Yeah?”
“I brought you a couple of towels. I’ll just
set them over here.”
I have no idea where “here” is, but that’s
nice of her. “Okay, thanks.”
She closes the door, and I can breathe
again. Funny how five minutes ago I didn’t care
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