Page 48 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

“You’re still shaking. Can I give you a hug?”

Anything I tried to say would have come out as a stuttered mess, so I nodded.

“Come here.” Logan’s arms slipped around me. He pulled me to him and squeezed hard.

I closed my eyes and let myself feel the moment. One of his hands pushed on my back and the other cupped my neck. Logan’s chest rose and fell with his breathing. He didn’t say anything, but I felt him apologize for what had happened and tell me that he hoped I was okay and that he cared.

I hadn’t realized I needed to feel this safe until I found my fingers curled into the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life. Tears prickled my eyes, and I squeezed them shut.

I’d been hoping this reaction would wait until I was alone, but Logan had drawn it out of me like poison from a wound. I sniffled, and then the floodgates opened. I buried my face in his shoulder and whimpered.

“Shhh,” Logan whispered in my ear as he stroked my hair. “I’ve got you.”

We stood like that as I tried to get myself under control. The shaking got worse as I re-lived what had happened. Once in a while, Logan would say something or adjust his hands, and after a few minutes of him keeping me from falling apart, I was able to breathe normally.

“That’s better,” he said as he rubbed my back.

This felt like more than a friend zone thing. Didn’t it? I inhaled and pulled away from him. Only he didn’t let me get far. I looked up and found his nose hovering inches away. My eyes dropped to his lips and then back up. His gaze never wavered from mine.

I’d dated before. I’d had intimate moments with guys before. But they hadn’t been anything like this. My emotions were a raw nerve that Logan hadn’t flinched from. In fact, he’d soothed them.

What had kept this amazing man from finding the woman of his dreams?

Was it Courtney?

Logan sighed and tugged me to him again. He rubbed my back for a second before he asked, “Am I good to let you into that bathroom?”

I nodded.

“Then you should get in there before the water overflows.”

My eyes went wide, and I gasped.

Logan laughed and let me go as I hurried to make sure we hadn’t flooded anything.

The water level was just right. Lavender filled my nostrils, and the moment I dipped a toe into the tub the tension in my body started to drain.

Logan was seriously a dream come true. When a guy got to this status, there was usually something terribly wrong with them.

I thought back to my conversation with Rachel and her mom about how Logan might have a dark secret in his past.

Right now, my only suspect was Courtney.

I sighed and sank into the water until it covered everything but my head. The jets hit my tense muscles, taking the edge off. I let them do their job, and after thirty minutes, I got out, took a quick shower, toweled off, and got dressed. My hair was a mess. I almost turned my curling iron on but stopped myself. This was Logan. He already knew me; I had nothing to prove.

Still, I could do something to make myself feel pretty. I picked up my pink lipstick but stopped myself right before I put it on. I couldn’t give my OCD a foothold. If I started down the road of being perfect for a guy, things wouldn’t end well.

I stared at myself in the mirror and whispered, “Logan won’t care if you have makeup on or not.” My hand shook as I set the container down. Before anything else could surface, I bolted into the other room.

I found Logan splayed out on the couch, softly snoring.

He’d lain down with his head on the arm of the couch. Because of the C-shape one of his legs was on the cushions while the other foot sat on the ground. His left hand lay on his chest covering his phone while his other wrist was over his eyes.

What was it about guys when they were asleep? They not only looked extra handsome, but also extra vulnerable. I wanted to grab a blanket and tuck him in but refrained. He’d probably wake up.

Poor guy, he’d been at a trade show for three days and then had come straight here. I checked the time. We hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so I crept back into the bedroom and ordered room service. I left instructions for the servers to text me and not to knock.

Dinner was a semi-formal affair, but I didn’t feel like getting all dressed up yet, so I stayed in my sweats, kept my hair in a messy bun, and checked on the status of a couple of shipments. Ashely had gotten the package I’d sent her and had tried the clothes on. As I had suspected, they fit her body type almost perfectly.

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