Page 21 of The Replacement Fiance

9

Logan

"I forgot all about the bed,"Mariah says, biting her lip. "Do you think we'll be okay?"

"Yeah, we should be okay."

Mariah tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I'm really sorry about this, Logan. I really thought Mom would put us in separate rooms."

"Maybe she didn't want to jinx the engagement."

Her brow furrows as a thought comes to her. "If that's the case, then wanna bet she put crystals under the bed, too."

After a brief pause, our curiosity gets the better of us and we get down on our knees next to the bed. She lifts the bed skirt and sure enough, there's a grouping of crystals of various sizes and colors on the floor underneath the bed.

"I knew it."

"Wow! You weren't kidding, Mariah."

She points to each stone as she continues, "Rose quartz, rhodochrosite, garnet, carnelian, Amazonite... and I think that last one is malachite. Don't ask me what they do exactly but I think they're known as relationship stones."

"Your mom's definitely not taking any chances. Do those things even work?" I ask as we get up from the floor. I sure hope there aren't any stones designed for sex because I'd really get into trouble if there were. My self-control to kiss her again may not hold up till morning, not if we have to sleep on a twin-sized bed at that.

"I have no idea," Mariah replies. "I only know what they are because I used to be in charge of the gift shop and we sold tons of them. Necklaces, bracelets, and just the stones themselves, unpolished. They were also fun for wire-wrapping projects during nature camps."

"Mariah, I can sleep somewhere else if that makes you feel–"

"No! Don't be ridiculous, Logan. We'll be fine," she says, chuckling. "At least, you can't say my parents are predictable."

"No, they're definitely not."

"The last time Elliot spent the night here when their house was being renovated, she told him to sleep in the..." Her voice fades, as if she just realized what she just said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring him up all the time."

"Don't be." But even as I say it, I can't help but remember what Brad told me, about how Mariah had kept it all together after discovering her fiancé and best friend's betrayal. Looking back, Liam and I had already known her then. We even knew about the engagement because Mariah wore a ring—a huge rock at that. And then one day, the ring was gone and there was no mention of a wedding. Liam and I were still reeling from our mother's loss to do or say anything. If Mariah had wanted us to know what had happened, she'd have told us, but she didn't. And I can't blame her. Some wounds are just too deep to share.

As we stand in front of each other, I want so badly to cup her face in my hands and kiss Elliot out of her system. But I can't do that. She's vulnerable... and judging from the turmoil of emotions I'm going through, so am I.

"Guess we better get to bed," she says quietly.

"I'll use the bath in the hallway." I grab my backpack and step out of the room, my heart racing. Today has been a day filled with new experiences, from being around a family that unabashedly love each other to the practice kiss on the bridge that takes the top spot. But at the same time, I've never felt so conflicted. I want to give Mariah everything yet I know I can't, not right now. I need to focus only on what she needs me for and wait until everything is over before we can take any of this further.

But that's only if I survive sleeping with her on a twin-sized bed.

* * *

Mariah's already under the covers when I return into the bedroom.

"Hey," she says as I shut the door behind me.

"Hey."

"Is my sister still out there?"

I nod. "Yup. She's editing on her laptop this time."

"She'll probably be up awhile then," Mariah says as I make my way toward the bed. With her hair splayed on the pillows, she's breathtaking.

Too bad I'm slipping under the covers as her friend because it's the last thing I want to be right now. Thank god, I managed to grab a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt for bed before I left the house this morning. I usually sleep with only my boxers—or sometimes nothing at all.

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