Logan experienced the drawn-out moments between him and Layla. His mind revolved around kissing her, and kissing her now. But something held him back—and it wasn’t the way Layla was stroking her fingers down the buttons on his shirt.
“Should we go?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, taking a step out of her doorway and lacing his fingers through hers. “Darren is probably spitting fire by now.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
“He’s not the world’s greatest conversationalist.”
“You mean compared to you.”
“I am great at small talk,” Logan said with a smile. “Darren usually just hovers nearby and I get us dates.” He realized too late what he’d said. “I mean—I used to. You know, before moving here.”
am“Why haven’t you dated since you moved here?”
Logan bit back the words he wanted to say. Because you wouldn’
