Page 48 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

What kind of sick person does it make me?

“Logan, stop,” I order. “It’s unprofessional for me to come over here for a tutoring session only to hook up with you instead.”

“Colt’s my buddy. He’ll get over it. Come on.”

“Logan, stop.” I dig my heels into the ground. “I need some space for a minute.”

He pauses and turns around, facing me fully as whatever ounce of want dissipates into thin air, replaced with suspicion. “You need space?”

The blood drains from my face. “Not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing, okay?” I rush out. “I… You know how much I hate being late for things, and I have an appointment. When do you get off work? We can talk after or something.”

Indifference oozes from every pore as he shrugs one shoulder. “Can’t tonight.”

“Logan…”

He shakes his head and steps away from me. “Sorry.”

He isn’t sorry. He’s pouting because I turned him down.

Reining in my temper, I reach for his hand. “Logan, I’ve missed you. I promise nothing’s wrong,” I add, though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince this time. “I’ve been busy. But as for us sneaking in a quickie before my tutoring session, it’s not that I don’t want to, I––”

“You hate being late,” he finishes for me. “I get it.” He leans forward and presses a weak peck to my cheek. “I’ll let you go. We’ll talk later.”

“Logan––”

“I’m fine, Ash.” His tone is cold. Hell, it’s frigid.

Liar, I want to spit, but I bite my tongue. He isn’t the only liar right now. I am too. And I hate how I’m questioning our relationship all because I have chemistry with a guy who isn’t him. A guy who’s dating my best friend. A guy who, if I had to guess, doesn’t do relationships. He’s good for sex and nothing more. And I’d be a fool to throw away my relationship with Logan because of it.

I’m not a fool.

“Logan, talk to me,” I beg, my fingers digging into the white cotton of his long sleeve shirt.

“Don’t want you to be late.” He slips out of my grasp, walks toward the kitchen, and out the garage door without a backward glance. Leaving me alone with my indecision and regret.

“Everything okay?” Colt murmurs from the top of the stairs. Like he might not have witnessed what went down, but he can still feel the aftermath hanging heavy in the air.

I look up and give him a pathetic smile. “Just dandy.”

He takes the stairs two at a time, his footsteps light and sure as he reaches the main floor.

We haven’t really spoken since I overheard him pleasuring himself in the bathroom. Not since he caught me eavesdropping. Not since he pushed me against the wall, and I was convinced he was going to kiss me.

Which is insane on so many levels.

I’m not a cheater. I refuse to be. And I know Colt isn’t, either. Or at least, I thought he wasn’t. But considering how much I’ve been avoiding Mia and her little get-togethers with Colt, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they’re officially a thing. Maybe I’m not the only one playing with fire.

The idea causes a knot in my stomach as I chew on my thumbnail, anxious to get the hell out of here. But I can’t. I need the tutoring hours for my teaching program. I need the money for my rent. I need––

“What’s wrong?” Colt asks when he reaches me, his eyebrows pinched with concern.

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

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