CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LOGAN
I don’t know why I f*****g torture myself. Touching her, feeling her body against mine, watching her dance is putting ideas in my head that shouldn’t be there. I know we’re taking this slow, being friends, and although we’ve only been on one date—that she remembers—I can’t control the temptation that’s right in my face. It’s as if she knows what she’s doing to me all over again.
“You okay?” I ask as I watch her press her cheek to the window.
“Yeah, I’m fine. The cold glass feels good against my face.” I can tell she’s hot from dancing all night, but f**k if that makes this whole situation worse.
“If you feel like you’re going to vomit, I can pull over,” I tell her, unsure if she’ll be able to hold her alcohol or not.
She giggles as she tilts her head back and c
