Page 58 of The Playbook

I tore my gaze from Ryan to find Logan already on his feet, his hand held out to me.

“You know the rules, Gracie. I don’t think streaking is your thing, not that I would mind witnessing it. So unless you want to run through the neighborhood naked, you’re going to want to come with me.”

I stared at Lana, horrified. She gave me a helpless shrug.

Getting slowly to my feet, I gripped Logan’s hand, my body shaking. I tried to drown out the catcalls from myfriendsas Logan led me to the downstairs bathroom off the living room. He closed the door with a soft click behind us.

Immediately, I spun around and stumbled against him. He caught me easily, a smile on his face.

“I-I’ve never played seven minutes in heaven. What do I do?”

“We make out. More. Whatever we get to,” he said softly, like he wasn’t nervous in the slightest.

“We’ll just tell them we made out,” I whispered, peeking up at him.

“Or you could kiss me, Gracie.”

I pulled away from him, my heart banging hard in my chest. I knew inviting him over was a bad idea. This was what I got for going back on my damn word.

“I knew I shouldn’t have invited you,” I grumbled, looking away from him.

My head was spinning from too much alcohol. This was a shitty idea. Everything within me screamed it.

Logan moved close enough to me that I felt the heat from his body. Gently, he took my chin and turned my head so I was facing him again. “Look at me, Gracie. Breathe. I won’t hurt you.”

“Promise?” I whispered. I meant hurt me at all, not just now in the bathroom, and I was pretty sure he knew that.

He nodded without a word as I stared up at him. God, he was beautiful.He pulled something out of his pocket, his gaze flicking from me to it quickly.

“Why are you recording this?” I peered at him, confused.

“I’m a little drunk right now, and I think it’s possible I might just be dreaming. The video is so I can remember this moment tomorrow.” He stepped closer.

I swallowed. “I think the camera is a bad idea.”

“I fucking swear to you it’s for my eyes only,” his voice took on a low, seductive tone that made my guts dance.

He reached out and cradled my face. He took the necessary steps to close the distance between us, his fingers brushing against my jaw, his other hand clutching my hip.

“This doesn’t mean anything. Just a damn dare,” I whispered as he leaned closer, trying to convince myself more than him.

“Of course not,” he agreed softly, his lips nearly brushing against mine.

He paused for a moment, his blue eyes locked on mine before he closed them, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss was soft. Gentle. His tongue darted out to slide along the seam of my lips, begging me to let him in. My mouth parted, and his tongue slipped into my mouth and danced against mine. His fingers moved up to thread through my hair, his hold on my waist tightening as he deepened the kiss.

I was putty in his hands. Logan Walker knew how to kiss.

I ran my hands up his hard chest before I braved putting them in his hair. He let out a soft moan into my mouth as I twisted my fingers in his dark locks. He urged me closer so there wasn’t an inch of space between our bodies.

It was my first damn kiss. A stupid, delicious, drunken kiss. It was everything.

He lifted me up and sat me on the counter, his lips breaking away from mine to trail along my jaw before finding my neck. I angled my head to give him better access as I dragged my fingers through his silky hair.

My breath came in soft gasps, butterfly wings beating hard in my stomach as warmth pooled between my legs. I’d never felt this way before.

One of his hands drifted down to my thigh. Soft fingertips ran up my bare skin, beneath my skirt. His mouth moved to my collarbone, sucking on the skin there. Of course, I had to be wearing a damn spaghetti strap tank top, giving him easy access to a lot of flesh as he peppered fire against my skin.

It’s OK. We were just a couple friends making good on a dare. It doesn’t mean anything.

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