Page 39 of Meet Me in the Valley
I wet my lips, desperate to soothe the dryness he caused, like he’s stealing the air from my lungs with nothing but his eyes.
“Reach into my back pocket,” Logan murmurs, releasing one of my hands while keeping my other one pinned above him.
Without hesitation, I slip my hand over the taut muscle of his ass through his jeans, lingering a little longer as I indulge in the moment. A quiet groan rumbles at the base of his throat. I’m quickly melting under his intense stare, so I slip my fingers into his back pocket, feeling the outline of a joint. I grab it and bring it between us, pushing it slowly into his mouth.
“Now the other one,” he orders, the joint hanging off his lips. He softly grazes his nose against my jaw. I can’t think straight. I can barely register what he just asked me to do.
“Hmm?” I sigh, loving the way his skin feels against mine. His dark chuckle reverberates against my chest.
“Reach into my other pocket.”
When I do, I pull out the contents. A lighter.
“Now light me up.”
I flick the lighter, and the flame flares to life between us, catching just enough of his face to make my breath hitch.
God, he’s beautiful like this—smoke curling from his lips, eyes fixed on me like I’m the next thing he wants to inhale.
I hold the flame to the tip of the joint, and he draws slow, deliberate puffs until it catches. The orange ember glows, smoke coiling around us like something alive.
He releases the grip on my pinned wrist, trailing his arm down toward my fingers and lacing his in mine.He braces himself on one elbow beside me. He’s so close. Close enough that the heat rolling off his skin ghosts across mine.
Then he plucks the joint from his mouth, eyes locked on mine like he’s about to ruin me and knows it.
“Open your mouth,” he says, low and commanding.
My lips part before I even think. I lie like putty beneath him.
He takes a long drag, holds it, and leans in close enough to feel the anticipation tighten between us.
When he exhales, the smoke spills from his mouth into mine, warm and slow. Our lips don’t fully meet, but they brush—just barely—and the shock of it ripples straight through me.
I inhale. But it’s not just the smoke I’m taking in.
It’s him. The weight of his gaze, the undeniable pull between us, the feeling that if we let go of the thread holding us back, we’ll fall and never come back the same.
My chest rises. My pulse stutters. And when he unlaces our fingers to reach down and cup my face, I’m done for.
His irresistible smirk tilts his lips as he looks down at me. “You look like you love me, T.”
Maybe it’s the alcohol swimming through my veins. Maybe it’s the smoke he poured into my mouth like a wordless promise, ready to leave all my inhibitions. Instead of ignoring his playful comment, I lean into it. Hard. Inevitably.
“I do.”
Two simple words to answer a very complicated question that will ruin me. I don’t know why I’m admitting to him I’m falling, but he’s got my heart in a chokehold and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
“What?” he whispers, our lips just a breath away from each other.
Oh, God.
It sounds crazy when I say it out loud.. Do I really believe I can fall for my best friend? The man who has a different woman in his bed every week? Am I deluding myself into thinking I can change his ways?
The ground beneath me might as well swallow me whole. At least then I wouldn’t have to look into his warm, inviting eyes and fall deeper for a man I know won’t ever give me what I want.His eyes.Everything is spinning again. My stomach turning to knots, brewing unwanted nausea that settles deep in my gut.
A low moan in the distance snaps us from our lust bubble, both of our eyes whipping toward the noise. “Wha—?” I whisper, cut off by Logan’s hand covering my mouth. He stubs out the joint into the dirt, pressing his pointer finger to his lips, signaling me to hush.
Another breathy moan.
