Page 95 of Best Kept Secret
“Can you tell your dad?” I shrug.
“No!”
Startled by the abruptness of her response, I rear back a touch, gaping at her.
“Sorry.” She softens a touch, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just… my father can’t find out.”
Suddenly it all makes sense. “Hannah, is he on the team?”
She shakes her head, but I’m not sure if I believe her. I also don’t want to overstep, so I let it go, despite my mind working a mile a minute. “Maybe you could get Logan to talk to him.”
“I don’t want to get Logan involved any more than he already is.”
“I’m worried for you,” I admit.
She offers me a half smile and a noncommittal shrug of her shoulder as she sags back in her chair. “It’ll be fine.”
And I would love to say that I believe her, but sadly, I have my doubts.
CHAPTER 42
MILLIE
After lunch with Hannah, I came straight home because I wanted to surprise Logan with a home cooked meal. I have so much I need to tell him about everything that’s happened while he’s been away, and I’m hoping a nice meal might help to soften the blow. Chicken breast stuffed with goat cheese and spinach, garlic roasted cherry tomatoes, and crusty bruschetta. I’m not a chef by any stretch of the imagination. My kitchen skills are limited to frozen pizza and ramen, but I was blissfully ignorant enough to thinkhow hard can it possibly be? Spoiler alert: cooking is way harder than it looks. The kitchen is a mess. I’m a mess. My chicken is a mess. And just when I consider tossing everything in the trash and ordering in while pretending I cooked, I hear the sound of the front door shutting, followed by Logan’s voice. “Baby?”
Shit.
Turning away from the chaos lining the island, I see Logan walk through the archway, the sight of him rendering me weak-kneed. Backwards ballcap, jaw lined with a few days’ worth of stubble, and a Thunder tracksuit that fits him in all the right places. Yummy.
I can’t stop myself from launching at him. Thankfully, hecatches me effortlessly, hands gripping my ass as I wrap myself around him, slamming my lips to his. I knew I missed him, but seeing him in the flesh for the first time in five days, I hadn’t realized just how much.
“Aw, babe. You cooking for me?” he asks with a soft smile.
“Trying to,” I say sheepishly.
“I could get used to this,” he murmurs against my mouth, claiming me with a slow, determined kiss I feel all the way in the base of my spine.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
He palms my ass, pulling me tighter against him, and I feel his cock twitch in his sweats. “Chrissake, I need you,” he murmurs.
“I need you too,” I answer breathily, gently pushing him away with a whine. “But I’m on my period.”
“It’s cute that you think I care,” he grits, grinding my pussy against him.
“Ew.” I grimace. “I can’t have sex when I’m on my period.”
“You absolutely fuckin’ can,” he retorts. “And, word on the street is it feels even better.”
I stare at him for a long moment. I know they say orgasms can help relieve cramps, but sex? My nose scrunches at the thought. “Isn’t it… messy?”
“Not in the shower.” He flashes me a smug grin.
I contemplate the idea a moment, but then I imagine the clots swirling around the drain and I swear, I almost barf. “I can’t?—”
“C’mon, Red,” Logan interjects, shifting his hips, his erection doing delicious things to my achy, needy core. “I need a shower after my flight.” His gaze lifts to something on top of my head, brows knitting together. “You literally have… cheese in your hair.”
I lift a hand up and find the incriminating sliver of parmesan tangled in my strands. Mortifying.
