Page 14
Lorelai
Logan delivered on the cheesecake, and she came wearing pajamas paired with her fancy sneakers.
The pasta he’d had DoorDashed was delicious, and they put another movie on, but same as the night before, they spent more time gabbing than actually watching it.
She’d gone home late and then crashed headlong into sleep.
No more mid-night wake-ups, no more sleeping through her alarm.
They’d done the same thing at her place the next night.
Then back to his after that.
Then repeated the pattern, trading off with hosting dinners every night for the next few weeks.
Lori loved every minute of their time together. It was mostly like having Brandon back, the easy rapport between her and Logan making her wonder if conversation skills ran in the Smith family or if Logan and Brandon had both just lucked out.
Of course, the mostly -like-having-Brandon-back part stemmed from the fact that Logan was his brother.
And also because she didn’t want to jump Brandon’s bones, like she did Logan’s.
Not that Brandon was unattractive, because he was certainly good-looking.
But there wasn’t a spark, and the entire time they’d known each other, she’d been with someone, or after The Dumping that had left her crying in the hall and had provoked Brandon to have her over for the first time, she’d been in recovery mode.
Then by the time she’d able to end her hiatus of self-imposed social distancing, he’d been with Cassie.
No opportunity. No interest.
That was mutual.
But he was a damned good friend, along with Cassie.
Although, he was also damn good friend who hadn’t shared the information about Logan’s injury and recovery.
Though, based on what Logan had said, it hadn’t been Brandon's information to share.
Sigh.
She’d need to talk it out with Brandon.
Hard of late, with the time difference. Every time they got a few minutes on the phone, he’d had to run off to bed or she’d been blearily just awake.
She was going to have to put her concerns in email form, but for now, she’d just focus on the fact that it felt nice to have a friend next door again and not that Brandon hadn’t shared, or that she’d dreamed about his brother the night before.
Lie. She’d dreamed about him for all of the nights before.
Or rather, a very specific part of Logan.
Pervert.
As in, she was the pervert this time.
But it had been a very good dream, one that involved her having multiple orgasms courtesy of that giant cock.
Yum.
If only Logan had been giving her signals that he might be interested.
Instead, he’d seemed to step into Brandon’s role and been carefully keeping distance between them.
Which proved he wasn’t the huge dick—no pun intended—that his text messages had first presented him as . . . but she already knew that. He’d shown that within a few minutes of them meeting in person. He didn’t need to keep proving he was a good guy.
In fact, she’d like some of that dick to—
Stop.
She’d been missing Brandon and Cassie, now she had Logan. Maybe he simply wasn’t interested in her as more than a friend.
Well, that wasn’t a maybe.
That was a certain.
He’d held doors for her, occasionally touched her arm.
He texted funny stuff, saw her every night.
He knew about her ridiculously happy parents, her double major in math and computer science.
She knew about his favorite movies, that his injury had been to his hip, that he’d decided to go back to school and study biology.
But there wasn’t an undercurrent of heat between them.
She might have longing, but he wasn’t carrying a torch for her.
Stifling a sigh, she reached to pick up her plate, but Logan nudged her away. “I got them. It’s late and you’ve got that that important work meeting tomorrow.”
It was true she was meeting with Heather again the next day, but—
“I can help—”
He nodded to the door. “Shoo.”
“I should—”
The plate dropped to the table. “Lori.” He sighed.
Her brows drew together. “What’s the matter?”
His chin dropped to his chest, a long, slow breath escaped his lips. “Lori, honey,” he murmured. “You need to go.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment. “I can wash—”
Hot brown eyes flew up to meet hers. “Go.”
She shook her head, not certain why he was upset—
“Lori.” It sounded like it was ground out between his teeth.
“What? What did I do?”
“Fuck.” He thrust his hands into his hair, turned and paced away, eyes on the window.
She crossed to him, placed a hand on his arm.
His head whipped around so fast that she took several steps back.
He looked absolutely furious. “I’m trying to be good here, Lori.
I’ve spent the last few weeks dreaming of you, wanting you, jerking off to the mental image of stripping those ridiculous pajamas off your sexy body. I get that you don’t want me, but—”
“ What?”
“I know you want me to be a friend, like Brandon was,” he said, turning around to face her. “But I can’t just be around you all the time and not want to—” Logan paced away again.
“You want me?”
Brown eyes over his shoulder. “Go, Lori.”
“But I thought you didn’t want me .” She strode around in front of him, shoving him back lightly. “I’ve been over here every night in my fancy sneakers and you’ve been friend-zoning the shit out of me.”
“Um, no,” he said. “You’ve been friend-zoning me. ”
“Uh, no. I’m the one having wet dreams about you every night.”
He frowned. “Can girls have wet dreams?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s your response to me telling you that?”
Lips twitching, he said, “I take it back.”
“Good.”
“Good.” His eyes bored into hers, and it was as though he’d finally pulled back a veil, revealing heat he’d kept banked over the last few weeks. “I don’t want to be your friend, sweetheart.”
She nibbled at her bottom lip. “What do you want to be?”
“More.”
Lori dropped her gaze to her feet for a moment. “A boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“ Friend friend?”
“Yes, that, too.”
Her heart rolled over in her chest, exposing itself. Could she do this? She wanted to, but should she? She glanced up, saw the warmth in his eyes, and figured if she didn’t, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. “How about a provider of chocolate carbs?”
Amusement crept into his tone, and he said, “Yes.”
“Good.”
She launched herself into his arms and slanted her mouth across his.