Page 130 of Snared Rider

We settle into our seats and eat, but he keeps hold of my hand on the table top. He does this even though it’s awkward to eat. Everything between us feels good, comfortable, nice.

At least until he says, “I want us to move in together.”

I pause, mid-fork lift, my egg dangling precariously over the edge.

“Sorry?”

“I want us to move in together,” he repeats, his eyes locked on me.

My hands suddenly feel clammy and a little shaky as his words penetrate. Considering we only slept together for the first time in a decade last night, this might be moving a little fast (translation: breakneck-speed).

“Logan, we don’t need to rush anything. We can take our time, get to know each other again.”

This is clearly the wrong thing to say.

“I’ve known you since you were born. I reckon I know everything I need to know.”

While this is true, it’s not the point.

“I also haven’t been in your life for a really long time. I’m not the same person I was at twenty, and I’m pretty sure you’re not either.”

He shrugs. “Maybe not exactly the same, but people don’t change that much.”

I wish I could agree with that sentiment but I don’t. I’m definitely changed by our time apart. I’m more closed off, less willing to trust, less willing to leave myself vulnerable.

At least I am until it comes to the man in front of me. One touch and I caved. I knew I would. I think deep down this is the reason I kept my distance—because Logan will always own my heart.

“There’s no reason to jump into something feet first.”

There’s a beat of silence before he counters, “We can’t make shit work if we’re not living under the same roof. We made that mistake last time, love; I’m not doing it again.”

This is true. Had we moved in together last time our relationship would have been in the open, which might have changed how things transpired.

Last time we took things so slow they might as well have been in reverse. We were both young and caught up in the excitement, the romance of it all. Now, we know better.

“This is too fast, Logan. We literally just got back on track this morning. Now, you’re expecting me to pack up my life in London and move in with you?”

“We’re not kids and we’re not strangers to each other. I know you, you know me. We both want this to work and to do that we need to be under the same roof.”

Ignoring the ludicrousness of the request to move in with him after one night, I try to use logic instead to argue my point.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Of?”

Logic goes out of the window.

“Because moving in with you after one day is crazy, Logan!” I lean across the table and hiss at him. “We don’t even know if this will work out.”

“It’ll work.”

He says it with such certainty it renders me momentarily speechless. When I remember how to talk, I cross my arms over my chest and arch a brow at him.

“Oh? And you know this how? Do you have a crystal ball I don’t know about?”

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