Over my head.
You have marriage written all over your face.
Boring.
We stepped out onto the empty porch of the building. Empty because why hang out here when there was privacy inside to do all kinds of wild and wicked things? The type of things one did at a kink club. Things I had yet to learn about. Thanks to him.
I chafed my hands up and down my arms.
Everyone thought they knew me so well. Resentment simmered beneath my skin. He didn’t know me. Who was he to pass judgment on me?
Maybe I just needed more time to get used to the place. To find the thing that worked for me. Logan ushering me away wasn’t going to accomplish that.
“You don’t have any say about where I can go.” I walked past him and out into the night. It would be too embarrassing to return upstairs now. Not after he dragged me out of there.
“Hey,” he called after me. “No need to get all butt-hurt. I’m just trying to help a friend out—”
I stopped and whirled around. “Are we friends, Logan? Pepper and your brother are dating. That’s all. There’s no other connection between us. I don’t know why you feel the need to act all big brother. You’re just . . .” I paused, grasping. “ . . . a kid.”
The minute I said it, I wanted to take it back.
He didn’t look like a kid. Or act like one. Especially now.
He repositioned himself, spreading his legs a little wider, bracing his feet on the porch of the building. He didn’t look mad or offended. Worse. He looked amused. He actually smiled.
And that grin was devastating. Seriously. No wonder he had such a reputation. Girls must throw themselves at him. His mouth was sexy as hell, too. His lips were well-defined and wide, the bottom fuller than the top. Oh, the things I bet he could do with those lips. . .
I blinked at the totally wayward thought.
“You think I’m just a kid, huh?” His deep voice rippled over me like warm wind.
I nodded once.
He stepped down from the porch, coming at me, stalking like some kind of predator. I backed up.
He was just a kid. Just a . . . kid . . .
Aw, hell. My gaze skimmed up and down six feet plus of sexy man. Who was I kidding? He was so totally not a kid.
I tried to look down my nose at him the way I had seen my mother do countless times when squaring off with some mouthy delinquent. My sister and I called it her “principal look.” If she ever used it on us, we knew we were in trouble. But the effect was lost on him.
Yeah, he stood taller than six feet, but it wasn’t that. Logan had an air about him. A confidence rare for anyone, much less an eighteen-year-old guy. He held himself like someone who knew who he was and his place in the world. And that annoyed me. Why was he so damn self-assured?
“How old are you?” he asked, still smiling. A deceptive smile. Cunning almost.
“Twenty. And you’re eighteen. Still in high school.” I flung that at him almost like an accusation.
“For another couple weeks, yeah.” He nodded, absorbing this. “What month is your birthday?”
“November.”
“Okaaay,” he dragged the word out. “I’ll be nineteen in August. My mom held me back . . . didn’t want me to be the smallest kid in kindergarten.” It was hard to imagine him ever being the smallest kid, comparatively, at any point in his life. “So we’re twenty, twenty-one months apart, Georgia.” He arched an eyebrow at me, waiting for this to sink in. For me to realize we’re actually closer in age than I was willing to admit. That my calling him a kid was just . . . dumb.
I shrugged one shoulder, for some reason unwilling to give him that. “Maybe this place isn’t for you. Don’t you have a curfew or something?”
Pure contrariness had me tossing that out at him. I knew enough about his and Reece’s family life to know that he probably never had a curfew. Not since his mom died when he was a kid. His father was disabled and not exactly a check-the-homework-and tuck-’em-into-bed kind of parent.
He laughed deeply then, tossing his head back. It was a deliberate dig, and instead of getting offended, he laughed. It was a hypnotizing sight, the way his throat worked, tendons moving beneath that golden skin. The flash of his straight teeth. My belly dipped and I knew this was why girls my age and older forgot about his age and dropped their panties for him. He oozed sex and confidence. I blinked hard, disgusted with myself.
The sound of his laughter sent goose bumps over my flesh and settled in the pit of my stomach.
He stopped laughing to say, “I’ve never had a curfew.”
Never? I shook my head, telling myself now was not the time to marvel at his lack of supervision. My mom firmly believed no good could come of staying out past midnight. When I went home on break my parents still imposed a curfew on me. As if I wasn’t in my second year of college. As if I hadn’t been staying out all hours of the night doing all manner of naughty things. Yeah, okay, so I wasn’t. But I could be.
This reminder of my sheltered existence just made me more determined to live my life on my own terms. To do tonight what I set out to do. To stop living such a boring existence. I was twenty and I’d been living the last four years like a married woman. School. Studying. Sex once a week. Shit. Liar. I couldn’t even be honest with myself. The last year with Harris we maybe had sex every month.
Standing there looking at this incredibly hot guy who had a hell of a lot more experience than I did and was younger only flustered me. I flipped the hair back over my right shoulder, noting that his eyes followed the move, skimming over the long trail of blond hair before moving back to my face. Suddenly, I was glad that I had styled it so carefully for my date and worn it down in soft waves tonight.
“I’ll leave. Fine. For tonight.” I started to walk past him, but he blocked me.
“Meaning you might come back?”
I edged back from the wall of his chest, careful not to touch him. I think Reece mentioned his brother played sports. It explained the breadth of his shoulders, which tapered down to a lean waist. The flat stomach. I’d glimpsed Reece without a shirt when he stayed the night with Pepper. It was criminal. Logan was in good shape. My gaze flicked over him. Okay. Great shape. He was probably ripped under the black shirt he wore. Just like his brother. Ridiculous six-pack, defined biceps and all. I swallowed against the sudden thickness of my throat. Shoot me. Was I actually drooling over a guy still in high school?
You have marriage written all over your face.
Boring.
We stepped out onto the empty porch of the building. Empty because why hang out here when there was privacy inside to do all kinds of wild and wicked things? The type of things one did at a kink club. Things I had yet to learn about. Thanks to him.
I chafed my hands up and down my arms.
Everyone thought they knew me so well. Resentment simmered beneath my skin. He didn’t know me. Who was he to pass judgment on me?
Maybe I just needed more time to get used to the place. To find the thing that worked for me. Logan ushering me away wasn’t going to accomplish that.
“You don’t have any say about where I can go.” I walked past him and out into the night. It would be too embarrassing to return upstairs now. Not after he dragged me out of there.
“Hey,” he called after me. “No need to get all butt-hurt. I’m just trying to help a friend out—”
I stopped and whirled around. “Are we friends, Logan? Pepper and your brother are dating. That’s all. There’s no other connection between us. I don’t know why you feel the need to act all big brother. You’re just . . .” I paused, grasping. “ . . . a kid.”
The minute I said it, I wanted to take it back.
He didn’t look like a kid. Or act like one. Especially now.
He repositioned himself, spreading his legs a little wider, bracing his feet on the porch of the building. He didn’t look mad or offended. Worse. He looked amused. He actually smiled.
And that grin was devastating. Seriously. No wonder he had such a reputation. Girls must throw themselves at him. His mouth was sexy as hell, too. His lips were well-defined and wide, the bottom fuller than the top. Oh, the things I bet he could do with those lips. . .
I blinked at the totally wayward thought.
“You think I’m just a kid, huh?” His deep voice rippled over me like warm wind.
I nodded once.
He stepped down from the porch, coming at me, stalking like some kind of predator. I backed up.
He was just a kid. Just a . . . kid . . .
Aw, hell. My gaze skimmed up and down six feet plus of sexy man. Who was I kidding? He was so totally not a kid.
I tried to look down my nose at him the way I had seen my mother do countless times when squaring off with some mouthy delinquent. My sister and I called it her “principal look.” If she ever used it on us, we knew we were in trouble. But the effect was lost on him.
Yeah, he stood taller than six feet, but it wasn’t that. Logan had an air about him. A confidence rare for anyone, much less an eighteen-year-old guy. He held himself like someone who knew who he was and his place in the world. And that annoyed me. Why was he so damn self-assured?
“How old are you?” he asked, still smiling. A deceptive smile. Cunning almost.
“Twenty. And you’re eighteen. Still in high school.” I flung that at him almost like an accusation.
“For another couple weeks, yeah.” He nodded, absorbing this. “What month is your birthday?”
“November.”
“Okaaay,” he dragged the word out. “I’ll be nineteen in August. My mom held me back . . . didn’t want me to be the smallest kid in kindergarten.” It was hard to imagine him ever being the smallest kid, comparatively, at any point in his life. “So we’re twenty, twenty-one months apart, Georgia.” He arched an eyebrow at me, waiting for this to sink in. For me to realize we’re actually closer in age than I was willing to admit. That my calling him a kid was just . . . dumb.
I shrugged one shoulder, for some reason unwilling to give him that. “Maybe this place isn’t for you. Don’t you have a curfew or something?”
Pure contrariness had me tossing that out at him. I knew enough about his and Reece’s family life to know that he probably never had a curfew. Not since his mom died when he was a kid. His father was disabled and not exactly a check-the-homework-and tuck-’em-into-bed kind of parent.
He laughed deeply then, tossing his head back. It was a deliberate dig, and instead of getting offended, he laughed. It was a hypnotizing sight, the way his throat worked, tendons moving beneath that golden skin. The flash of his straight teeth. My belly dipped and I knew this was why girls my age and older forgot about his age and dropped their panties for him. He oozed sex and confidence. I blinked hard, disgusted with myself.
The sound of his laughter sent goose bumps over my flesh and settled in the pit of my stomach.
He stopped laughing to say, “I’ve never had a curfew.”
Never? I shook my head, telling myself now was not the time to marvel at his lack of supervision. My mom firmly believed no good could come of staying out past midnight. When I went home on break my parents still imposed a curfew on me. As if I wasn’t in my second year of college. As if I hadn’t been staying out all hours of the night doing all manner of naughty things. Yeah, okay, so I wasn’t. But I could be.
This reminder of my sheltered existence just made me more determined to live my life on my own terms. To do tonight what I set out to do. To stop living such a boring existence. I was twenty and I’d been living the last four years like a married woman. School. Studying. Sex once a week. Shit. Liar. I couldn’t even be honest with myself. The last year with Harris we maybe had sex every month.
Standing there looking at this incredibly hot guy who had a hell of a lot more experience than I did and was younger only flustered me. I flipped the hair back over my right shoulder, noting that his eyes followed the move, skimming over the long trail of blond hair before moving back to my face. Suddenly, I was glad that I had styled it so carefully for my date and worn it down in soft waves tonight.
“I’ll leave. Fine. For tonight.” I started to walk past him, but he blocked me.
“Meaning you might come back?”
I edged back from the wall of his chest, careful not to touch him. I think Reece mentioned his brother played sports. It explained the breadth of his shoulders, which tapered down to a lean waist. The flat stomach. I’d glimpsed Reece without a shirt when he stayed the night with Pepper. It was criminal. Logan was in good shape. My gaze flicked over him. Okay. Great shape. He was probably ripped under the black shirt he wore. Just like his brother. Ridiculous six-pack, defined biceps and all. I swallowed against the sudden thickness of my throat. Shoot me. Was I actually drooling over a guy still in high school?
