Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Like he senses the shift in the air around us, he pulls back to look at me, and heat floods my system so quickly, I think I might drown in it. His eyes are a shade darker than they were a moment ago, and there is no denying that he is feeling exactly what I am.
I don’t know who makes the first move, but one second we’re staring at each other, and the next his mouth is on mine. His hand is cinched around my side, and my fingers are in his hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is soft, maybe even coaxing, as he slides his tongue across my lips, and when he hears my breath hitch, he groans and wraps his hand around my jaw, using it to tip my head to the side and take more. I sink into the feel of him taking full advantage of having me at his mercy and ignore the little voice in the back of my mind that whispers we shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t ignore the horn when he accidentally presses into the steering wheel or my cell phone, which has started to ring.
Cursing, he pulls his mouth from mine, and it takes me an absurd amount of time to get my eyes open and my body and brain to start functioning under my command again.
Rather than address the fact that he and I just kissed and that I’m pretty sure it was the best kiss of my life, I unhook my seatbelt and clumsily move over to the passenger seat without using the door because he’s standing in front of it with his hands on the roof and his chest heaving. Once I’m seated, I adjust my bag and dig out my phone, which is still ringing. My stomach drops the moment I see Cole’s name on the screen.
Staring at it, I feel sick.
I just kissed someone else.
I feel Logan get into the driver’s seat and then his fingers under my chin force my eyes to his.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m a horrible human.”
“What?” His brows drag together.
“I…” I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I have a boyfriend.” His fingers on my chin tighten. “He and I we agreed to keep things fluid when I told him I was moving here but I think we are still together.” Despite what I told myself just a few hours ago I’m pretty sure we are still in a relationship; I mean neither of us said that we were breaking up. Right?
“What the fuck does fluid mean?”
“Does it matter? I just kissed you and…”
“I kissed you,” he says, and I shake my head.
“What?”
“I kissed you; you didn’t kiss me.” He lets his hand fall away. “How long have you been with this guy?”
“What?”
“The guy you’re dating, how long have you two been together?” The question is filled with disgust.
“A little over a year.”
“Did you live together?”
“No.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“No,” I say, then want to suck the answer back in. “We’re taking things slow.”
“Apparently, if you’ve been with this guy for over a year, you don’t love him, and when you told him you were moving, the solution the two of you came up with is to keep things fluid. Whatever the fuck that means.”
“It was his suggestion,” I tell him, then add, “And none of that matters, Logan, I just cheated on him.”
“But did you?” he mutters, and I realize that we are no longer parked in front of my house but pulling into the driveway of a two-story house made of white brick with black accents around the windows and creeping vines with red flowers crawling up the side of the house. It’s beautiful, and an exact replica of the house I have on one of my vision boards on Pinterest. When did we even leave my house?
Parking next to his Jeep in the driveway, he gets out and walks around to me and opens my door.
“Here.” He hands me the keys to his mom’s car.
“Oh, now I can drive?”
“I’m not riding with you.” He reaches down, grabs my hand, and pulls me from my seat. “Follow me to Mom’s, then we’ll head over to the school.”
I want to tell him that I’ll walk to my house which I’m pretty sure is just around the corner because we didn’t spend forever driving unless I blacked out, and I don’t think that happened.
Do I do that? Of course, not, I instead get behind the wheel of his mom’s car and follow him to his parents’ house, then after he puts her keys in the mailbox next to the front door because she’s not home and neither is his dad, I get into his Jeep with him.
“Did you call him?”
“Who?” I ask a few minutes later as we park in line at the school.