Chapter 10

Emory--

I’m standing in front of my apartment building, wondering how to say goodbye without making Logan think I’m getting rid of him. It is way, way too soon to invite him up, but I have to get out of these heels soon or I’m going to gnaw my feet off at the ankles. I catch myself biting my lip and he clears his throat to say something along the lines of “well goodbye.” I look up at him and decide to be brave. Obviously, he's into me for some reason, and a kiss goodbye wouldn't be too fast, would it? So I grab a fistful of his shirt and suddenly we’re kissing. Holy shit, are we kissing.

My back hits the wall and my front collides with Logan, then a hand at the back of my neck has a firm grip on my hair to tilt my head just where he wants me, and I don’t think I ever want to breathe again unless the air comes from his lungs. The smell of whatever cologne he’s wearing has my nipples puckering and my lashes fluttering. What the hell does he smell like, eu de pheromones?? It’s got some kind of cedar smell in there, and something else that smells like wild forests somehow. It’s honestly intoxicating and I want to climb him for more. 

In the midst of the best kiss of my life– so far, hopefully– I distantly feel Logan slide one hand over my hip and around to my ass. I moan just as he yanks my hips to his so I can grind against his cock and the already-embarrassing moan cuts off with a squeak. I should just get a billboard with my face on it and the byline “It’s been awhile!” Unfortunately, my squeaky toy impression causes Logan to buzz the most delicious chuckle against my lips before pulling away. I finally come to enough to hear one of my charming neighbors whistling at us out their broken window, and I can smell the usual odors that hang around my front stoop– mostly just from the dumpsters, thank God. I know it could be way worse, but it's not a picturesque place to be making out, for sure. I rest my forehead against his now-wrinkled shirt in an effort to hide my red cheeks.

“I think that’s enough of a show for tonight, sweetheart. Why don’t you run on up and cool your face off? Don't forget to lock your door.” Overprotective man. Giving up on hiding my flush, I turn a smile up to him and tell him I will before reminding him I can take care of myself. Honestly, I’ve lived years on my own before now and my life has been almost distressingly uneventful.

“Fine.” I tell him. “I’ll flicker a light to let you know I got in okay, but only because you have so much anxiety. Might want to consider therapy for that. AnywaygoodnightLogan!” He chuckles and rolls his eyes at me.

“Good night, Emory. Thank you in advance for turning on a light for me.”

I turn and walk up to the front door, closing it carefully behind me before squealing “oh my God!” briefly into my hands. Once I get it all out of my system, I clear my throat and head up to my apartment. First, I need to run myself a bath, then I have to call Cora and tell her all about it. It doesn't feel like this is my reality yet, but I hurry to turn a light on and off a few times when I walk in, just in case I’m not hallucinating.