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His resistance was futile. He met her lips eagerly and even pushed his hips against hers—though that part was probably an unconscious action. But God, he could kiss her forever, and she’d die a happy girl. He felt so good against her. Solid. Real. Logan. She wanted more.

Needing to experience her flesh against his, she worked her hands under his hoodie and another shirt and smoothed her palms flat against his back. His skin was warm and soft; she couldn’t stop touching him.

Murmuring an incoherent sound of pleasure, he tried to return the favor and buried one hand under the back of one of her sweatshirts. When he encountered more cloth, his fingers burrowed past that, only to find more.

Finally, he lifted his face. “How many layers are you wearing?”

She laughed, even though her nerves jittered with fear and excitement. “Too many.”

Gathering the hem of two of the sweatshirts, she tugged them off over her head. After tossing them aside, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close so she could nuzzle her nose against his.

“Better?”

He merely groaned as his warm fingers slid up her spine. Throwing her head back, she groaned too.

He’d just begun to kiss his way down her jaw to her neck when the handle to her room jiggled and the door flew open. Paige hopped off Logan’s lap and stumbled backward away from him.

“Oops.” Mariah giggled and covered her mouth, though her eyes above her hand danced with delight. She dropped her fingers to smirk, not even bothering to back from the room to give them privacy. “Well, this is interesting,” she cooed, reveling in the moment. “The two virgins of Granton are making out in my dorm room. I knew I’d eventually rub off on you guys.”

Logan cleared his throat and pushed off the bed, coming to his feet in one smooth, liquid move. He glanced toward Paige before running his hand over his short hair. “I, uh, I’ll talk to you later.”

Before Mariah could even pull the door shut, Logan grabbed his shirt and hoodie and streaked past her and shot into the hall.

Paige stared after him, dazed, embarrassed, and yet her body was pleasantly drunk off the arousal he’d stirred inside her.

“Well. I guess you’re already over your near-rape,” Mariah said, her voice dry as she strolled to her side of the room. “And thank God. I don’t think I could deal with a roommate who wigged out all the time the way you did last night.”

Paige scowled at her, irritated that Mariah had no more empathy than she did, and even more irritated she’d interrupted Paige’s delicious moment with Logan.

“I’m taking a shower,” she muttered, pushing to her feet. She grabbed a fresh bath towel and escaped into the bathroom.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

FRESHLY SHOWERED, Paige collected her purse, keys, and a borrowed coat from Mariah. She hurried outside to the parking lot where she found her car. Climbing behind the wheel, she started the engine and backed from the parking spot.

She had no destination in mind. She just knew she needed to get out for a while, away from campus, away from Mariah, away from anything to do with Dorian Wade and all the thoughts about what she was going to do concerning Logan.

After last night, so many things were no longer important. All the mental walls she’d thrown up to keep him away had crumbled. All her reasons for staying away felt stupid and petty.

She just wanted to be with him.

Nothing else mattered. Well, nothing except the opinions of two very important people in her life.

When she turned onto the interstate that would take her home, she realized she’d been heading this way all along.

Too many hours later, she pulled into the Hashmans’ driveway. It struck her then that she had no idea if her best friend would be home, or if she’d even want company. But Paige slid from the car anyway. She was already here. She might as well find out.

As much as Kayla had talked about moving out and finding her own place, Paige couldn’t picture her living anywhere else. This house right here equaled Kayla.

Knocking on the front door, she was surprised when Kayla herself answered. “Oh my God! Paige? What’re you doing here? Wha—oh my God, where’d you get a new bruise? And don’t tell me a laundry basket this time.”

Paige managed a weak smile. “Can we talk?”

“Of course. Come in.” Kayla dragged her over the threshold and into the living room. “What happened?”

Paige glanced around, checking for either of Kayla’s parents.

“They went grocery shopping,” Kayla answered her unspoken query. “But let’s go to my room anyway.”