Page 26 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)

MILLIE

“ O kay, so, for the record, I’m terrified,” I say, holding my arms out, taking one tentative step after another. “My knees are actually shaking.”

“I’ve got you, Red,” Logan’s deep voice rasps close to my ear, causing a shiver to run through me not for the first time today.

Thankfully, I’ve been able to blame the cold for my involuntary body tremors because, despite the sunshine, today has been freezing.

The kind of cold you feel through to your bones.

But the shivers coursing through me right now have little to do with the low temperature and everything to do with the man pressed up against me from behind.

“You promise you’re not going to… I don’t know… throw me over the edge?”

“No.” Logan snorts. “Besides, even if I wanted to, there’s, like, a twenty-foot barrier.”

“How much farther?”

“Just a few more steps,” Logan assures me, his big hands on my waist, steadying me.

The wind is fierce, and since I have my wool hat pulled down over my eyes preventing me from seeing anything, every one of my senses is on high alert, compensating for my lack of vision .

“Okay…” Logan stops me, his breath hot as it fans against the sensitive skin below my ear as he whispers, “You can look.”

Carefully, I push my hat up, blinking a few times. And when my eyes adjust to the glare of the afternoon sun shining across the city in streams of gold that weave between the maze of buildings, I’m rendered breathless, my mouth falling open at the sight before me.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, trying so hard to take it all in at once.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Logan says from behind me.

I nod, unable to form words because this is something else. Here we are, in the middle of New York City, and yet up here, so high in the sky, it’s eerily quiet, like it’s just us.

“I love this so much,” I say on a sigh, pulling my phone from my purse and snapping a few photos of the spectacular view. “It’s beautiful.”

“Sure is.”

I don’t know why, but there’s something unexpected in his whispered words, something that pulls me from my revery, glancing over my shoulder to see him looking at me, a soft smile toying with his lips.

“Want me to take a photo of you?” he asks, clearing his throat.

I consider his offer, but then I get an idea. Spotting a family behind Logan, I step around him, tapping the woman I assume is the mother of the group on her shoulder. She turns, smiling at me.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” I say with a sweet smile. “Would you be able to take a photo of me and my husband?” I thumb Logan over my shoulder, feeling him tense behind me, and I flash him a mischievous grin before continuing, “We’re on our honeymoon.”

“Oh, my goodness, newlyweds! How adorable,” the woman gushes in a British accent. She takes my phone, and I turn, grabbing Logan’s sleeve and pulling him to the edge to get the best possible angle of the cityscape behind us .

“You’re really running with the whole wife thing, huh?” Logan mutters from the corner of his mouth.

I stand in front of him, pulling his arms around me from behind, and with a coy smile I look back at him over my shoulder. “Just try to keep your dick down for this one.”

His smile falls, his face stark, and I try so hard not to laugh. I knew he thought I hadn’t noticed the raging hard-on in his jeans when I perched myself on his lap back on the boat, but I had. And boy, did it do things to me. Things I haven’t been able to stop thinking about ever since.

Nudging him with my elbow, he grunts, snapping back to reality. “Smile, honey ,” I say with a slow wink, turning back to the woman who is currently snapping a few candid photos with my phone.

It’s late. The sun has almost fully set, and my feet are killing me. We’re only a block away from the apartment when I follow Logan into a small, hole-in-the-wall pizza place that smells like all my dreams come true at once.

Sightseeing sure takes a lot of steps. But today has been my favorite day. A Circle Line cruise, Top of The Rock, a stroll through the Central Park Mall to view the iconic fountain. I’m exhausted, but my cup is overflowing.

“What’s your favorite pizza?” Logan asks as I take a seat at one of the high-top tables toward the back of the tiny space.

“Pepperoni.” I grin up at him, waggling my eyebrows. “I’m a basic bitch when it comes to pizza.”

“My favorite.” Logan fists the air in celebration, causing me to giggle.

I watch as he turns and walks to the back of the line, waiting patiently while perusing the menu board behind the counter where men are tossing pizza doughs in the air with dramatic flair.

But I’m not watching them. My eyes are solely fixed on Logan, trailing over him from head to toe.

Dressed in a pair of red Chuck Taylors, dark blue jeans that fit him perfectly in that not too baggy, not too tight way, a plain black hoodie and a backward cap, he could literally be any twenty-something year old guy right now, but there’s just something about him. He’s… kind of everything.

When Logan glances at me, I can tell by the grin playing on his lips that he’s caught me openly ogling him, and normally I’d look away, pretend I’d been doing no such thing while dying of mortification on the inside.

But I don’t do that. Instead, I continue watching him appreciatively, licking my lips like he’s on the menu.

My phone shudders against the tabletop, pulling me from my scandalous thoughts, and I stiffen, grabbing it and checking the screen, confused when I see that it’s him. Logan. I glance back at him, my brows furrowing when I find him smirking at me, phone right there in his hands.

L: Keep looking at me like that and I’ll be grabbing our pizza to go…

Oh. My. Holy. Fuck.

Between his words and the way he’s now looking at me , I’m forced to cross my legs because the ache is severe.

And… I don’t know. I thought I was imagining things earlier, but then when I felt his dick press into my ass on the Circle Line, I realized we have totally been flirting all day.

The casual little touches, the soft smiles, the way he’s been whispering things into my ear when he could easily just talk to me normally; today has been a day of subconscious foreplay.

My phone buzzes, and my heart skitters in my chest assuming it’s Logan again. But when I look down to see Dallas on the screen, it feels like a bucket of ice has just been dumped over my head, snuffing out every flame Logan has been stoking all day.

D: Hey little sis, we’re having everyone over for food. You should come.

Right at that moment, Logan appears by the table, a huge pizza box in one hand, his phone in the other. I look up at him, seeing his eyes move from my phone screen to his, which he holds up for me to see, reading the message from my brother.

Tex: Dinner at our place tonight. Everyone’s coming. Bring my little sister. I haven’t heard from her in a few days. I’m starting to worry you have her tied up in your apartment somewhere.

Literally the last thing I feel like doing tonight is socializing beneath the watchful eye of my big brother.

I want to eat the pizza that’s in that humungous box and spend the night hanging out with Logan, just the two of us.

I want to talk to him about last night, about his brother.

I want to keep flirting with him and see where it goes.

But if Logan and I don’t go to Dallas’s, I know my brother will think something is up.

“Should we take our pizza to go?” I suggest with a resigned sigh.

“Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I guess.” Logan shrugs a shoulder. “Let’s go home and get the car.”

I don’t mistake the flutter in my tummy at the way he says that. Home . And while I would love nothing more than to stay at home with Logan, I guess if I have to go and suffer through group dinner with Dallas and Emily mauling one another across the table, at least I have him with me.