Page 54 of Wild Catch
I’m still staring at her hand all snug on my thigh, processing the shock of it. It’s close to the knee so it’s not like this is scandalous.
Actually, last night was even more so, when her chest was pressed up against my back and her thighs squeezed me tight. And yet…
She removes her hand and before she can see my face, I rearrange it to a mask of indifference. Like that little touch didn’t sear my skin through the fabric of my joggers and didn’t make me sweat at all. We’re adults—Iam an adult, not a randy teenage boy whose engine gets going by a glance. Why the hell am I acting like one?
Don’t tell me… is it because her knee is still pressed against the side of my thigh?
Yeah, Rose is hot, but it usually takes a lot more than this to get my blood pumping.
“Oh wow, so it’s official-official, huh?” Hope leans against the seat in front of Rose. “When did this happen? How?”
“Like he said, we’re just feeling things out for now,” Rose responds, smiling. “Now, if y’all don’t mind, I actually wanted some alone time with Logan.”
“Oh la la,” Rivera sings behind us. “Let’s go to a different row, Cade. We may not want to hear what happens next.”
“Good point, I don’t wanna barf my breakfast. Grab the chess.”
This is followed by shuffling and some bumps.
Hope shakes her head at them, her mouth twitching with a barely restrained smile. Then she sets her attention back to us, pointing at our faces. “Don’t forget, kids. I walked so you could run. Don’t get too handsy or you’ll get in trouble with the top dogs.”
“Roger that.” Rose salutes.
And finally, we are alone. I chug more ginger ale.
“That was an interesting show,” I mumble once the mini can is empty, placing it back on my folding table.
“You don’t say.” She snorts through her nose. “But I do have something to talk about with you.”
“What now? Should I fake marry you?” I ask in a deadpan.
Her lips press tight. “No, but we do have to discuss terms and conditions.” I just stare at her, waiting for more information before I even consider engaging. She checks our surroundings once more, before hunching over to whisper, “It’s just that I was thinking?—”
“Oh,shit,” I say in a heartfelt way that earns me a smack.
“I was thinking that couples do things that you and I of course haven’t done.” After a pause, she adds, “Nor want to.”
I feign ignorance. “Oh yeah? Like what.”
“Like kissing. Definitely nothing beyond that.” Her head tilts forward, eyes skewering mine as if to sayright?
“Forget the rest, but kissing?” I scrunch up my face. “Who is going to believe you’re my girlfriend if we don’t kiss?”
“Good point, let’s start by not calling me your girlfriend. You were smart in keeping things vague earlier.”
“I’m always smart.” I fold my arms and like last night, her eyes divert to them for a moment.
“Logan, the point is that this isn’t real so we shouldn’t be making out just because.” She mimics my exact posture down to the incredulous facial expression. “Or are you telling me you’re one of those guys who has the emotional intelligence of a gnat, and can only show the bare minimum semblance of connection in the bedroom?”
Like her ex, Ben Williams?
I have enough tact not to ask, but by the stubborn set of her jaws and the hurt flashing in her eyes it’s pretty clear that he’s who she’s thinking of.
I turn away, refusing to witness that any longer. I can’t believe that someone as smart as her could’ve fallen for a douchebag of the category of Williams. But to be viewed from that same lens pisses me off more than I imagined possible.
“Of course not. I don’t use women for my own satisfaction.” Or anyone, for that matter.
I grit my teeth. I may be the son of two narcissists—and I may also carry some of their manipulative traits—but I’m not trapped in a constant quest to advance myself at the detriment of others, whether that be my career, or my physical needs or whatever.
