Page 35 of The Rookie
He doesn’t stir at the sound of his name, so I try again a little louder. “Logan? Rise and shine.”
He doesn’t budge.
When I reach his bedside, I pause for a moment, admiring the way the lamplight casts shadows along the curve of his jaw. I’ve never seen him so at peace, all cozy and cute in a Burton Snowboards hoodie and gray sweat shorts.
As I watch his wide chest rise and fall with steady, sleepy breaths, warmth radiates from my chest to my fingertips. The Logan Tate I’ve gotten to know the past few days is sexy, without a doubt, but this is a different version of him. A soft, gentle, sleeping giant, he snores softly through his barely parted lips. He’s downright adorable, from his messy bedhead to his long bare feet, dangling off the edge of the bed.
Snap out of it, Summer.I need to act fast before he wakes up and catches me staring.
“Logan.” A firm shake of his shoulder does the trick, and his thick eyelashes twitch before his eyes fully open.
“Jesus,” he grumbles, wiping one hand over his jaw. It’s surprisingly cute. “What time is it?”
“Almost two.”
“Shit.” His face scrunches up as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “We got back from hunting, and I was absolutely beat.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I’m glad you got some rest. Are you still down for our session?”
“Of course.”
“Then why don’t you get ready and then come find me?”
He nods in agreement, and I head out the door, stepping back out into the chilly afternoon air.
Here’s hoping the wind will blow the blush right off my cheeks.
I admit it—I’m more than a little smitten with Logan. The trick is going to be learning how to hide it.
Twenty minutes later, our roles are reversed, and Logan is the one letting himself into my cabin. He’s layered up a bit more than I would have expected, though, and it’s quickly obvious why.
“I was thinking we could go for a bit of a road trip instead of sticking around here.”
I fold my arms tight over my chest. “I thought we were going to have a counseling session.”
“We are. I just think we should have it off property.”
“Neutral territory?”
He shakes his head. “Just someplace I thought you might like to see. Maybe even a bit of excitement.”
I nod. “A change of scenery could be nice.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from arguing the point that Lost Haven has very quickly become one of the most exciting places I’ve ever been. Bonfires, stick shifts, and surprise CBD tea? It’s a lot more excitement than I’ve experienced in a long time. Tack on the steamy forbidden make-out session we had last night, and I can confidently say that this tiny little mountain town easily beats out Boston in terms of excitement.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I shrug and say, “I’m down for whatever.”
“Cool.” A sly grin tugs at his full mouth. “Follow me. You’re driving.”
Well. That’s the worst news I’ve heard all day.
Reluctantly, I follow him out to the driveway, eyeing public enemy number one—that manual rust bucket of a truck.
“Can’t you drive?” I plead, but Logan shakes his head.
“You can do this, I promise. I’m going to teach you.”
When I slide into the driver’s seat, baffled as ever by the numbers on the stick shift, my shotgun passenger wastes no time launching into his lesson.
