“I can walk you know,” I said trying to climb down.

“Shut up, and unlock the door.”

Accepting defeat, I tugged the keys from my purse and reached down sliding it in the lock. Logan was definitely mad. We walked inside and he laid me on the couch and headed straight into the kitchen. The sounds of drawers and cupboards opening and closing made me stifle a laugh until I heard him place a glass on the kitchen table.

Everything became instantly quiet and it took only half a second until my posture stiffened. Shit! I left the condoms Hilary gave me on the table. The quiet went on for what felt like hours. Seconds ticked by as minutes, until I heard a swoosh of air then a loud thud. The sound of water running brought me out of my flushed state.

I lay back, exhausted, knowing there was nothing I could say. I closed my eyes, embarrassed, and broken.

“Drink this.”

I opened my eyes, finding Logan sitting beside me with a tall glass of water in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

He waited quietly as I took a sip, but as I leaned forward to set it down, he frowned.

“Drink more,” he insisted. I brought the glass back to my lips obeying without complaint. I wasn’t used to having a man tell me what to do but this was different, he was trying to take care of me and it was…nice.

It took nearly five minutes for me to consume the entire glass, my swollen lip burning each time it made contact with the icy water, but Logan sat patiently beside me waiting.

Once I finished, he took the glass and set it on the coffee table in front of us. I watched with fluttering nerves and hooded eyes as his hand reached out pulling the bloody strands of hair from my face. With his other hand, he gently slid the washcloth over my chin, across my mouth, and around my cheek. His eyes studying every place the cloth cleaned.

My stomach filled with swooning butterflies eager to thank him with each tender caress to my skin.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. He set the washcloth on the table.

I swallowed. How could I answer that? Every emotion I had ever experienced was present at the moment. I felt confused, terrified, and completely taken by his kind actions.

“Does it hurt, Cassandra?” he pressed further.

“Huh?” I stuttered finding my voice. I blinked. “Um…yeah. I mean no…it’s fine. It’s feeling better.” I attempted a convincing smile but the pain flared back up in my lip. “Thanks.”

I sat quietly for what felt like forever as Logan retreated to the kitchen with the soiled washcloth and empty glass, and replayed the tender touches he was capable of giving.

“I want to start over,” Logan said entering the room with a piece of French bread and refilled water.

“Start over?” I cocked my head to the side, staring at him in disbelief. How could we start over now? After all our interactions over the past month.

“Yes.” He sat down handing me the items. “I want to really get to know you, and if that means starting over as friends then I’ll take it. I want you to trust me, Cassandra.” He looked away for a moment in thought then back to me. “I’d never hurt you.”

Was this happening? Could I honestly forget everything I knew about him? My insides screamed for me to give it a try and before I could debate it any longer, I nodded.

“All right, I’d like that. Friends.” I took a sip of the water processing the thought of a friendship with Logan West and set the glass down to pick at the bread. “I can’t forget how much of a playboy you are,” I admitted, openly, “but with everything else, it would be nice to have a clean slate.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, his eyes brightened. “Now finish that and then I’ll help you into bed.”

I nodded with an ironic smirk. “When you say help me into bed, you do mean alone, right?”

“Well, there is always the option of friends with benefits?” he chuckled softly, rumbling his chest.

“Yeah, I’m good with friends, don’t push your luck.”

Chapter Thirteen

Olive Branch

The next morning I awoke with a shudder. My face was buried against my pillow, pressing painfully into my broken lip. I twisted to my side and held my hand in front of my mouth, and groaned, not brave enough to touch the tender gash.

I pulled myself up, and fell back against the cream linen-upholstered headboard Hilary and I tackled as a DIY project earlier in the summer.

Hilary, I thought closing my eyes. How could she set me up with someone that had just gotten out of prison? Someone that could have done God knows what with me had I taken him home.

With my eyes closed, I inhaled through my nostrils and slowly blew it back out, attempting not to move my mouth. Repeating it twice more, the deep cleansing breaths calmed the growing anger wakening inside me. I stretched my arms high above my head, before padding across the floor toward the bathroom.

The shower worked wonders to my body. Exhaustion made me refuse one the previous night even though Logan offered to stay, in fear of me falling, but I just wanted the night to end.

My body rested against the cool tile, warm water cascading over me as my mind drifted back to Logan. His unprecedented kindness left me both grateful and confused. There was so much more to Logan West than he led on and with each new glimpse I received, I was left wanting more.

With my hair twisted up in a fluffy white towel, I wiped the fog from the oval bathroom mirror. “Ugh!”

I leaned forward over the sink to examine my swollen lip with a giant gash running down it. Lightly, I ghosted my fingers over the area, flinching when it stung even under my own touch.

Lazily, I fell on the corner of my bed, still draped in nothing but a towel, and picked up my phone I’d set to silent last night. I rolled my eyes when it read eighteen missed calls and fell back against my pillows, scrolling through the list. Twelve were from Hilary and the rest from my mother.

There were also a few texts from Hilary. Each text asked the same thing—was I all right and could she stop by. As I continued scrolling through the messages, my phone lit up with a new text. With an irritated scoff at Hilary’s persistence, I opened the message surprised to see an unknown number.

Good morning, sweetheart. Hope u are feeling better. If u need anything, please let me know. See u tomorrow morning at school –Logan

I stared down at the message, rereading it, wondering how he had my number. My lips curled up into the faintest smile as I hit reply.

Thanks. I’m sure u r in a lot worse shape than me. Did u have Julia check on u last night? U promised.

I hit the send button and then saved his number in my contacts. Almost instantly, I had new message.

Yes, and as you can see I survived just fine :)

I smiled and typed back quickly.

Good, I could only imagine the mob of angry women coming after me if anything happened to you.

I didn’t have to wait long until my phone lit up.

Now that I think about it, had I been truly hurt, I would have greatly enjoyed u nursing me back to health.

Another text dinged before I could reply.

U in a naughty nurse’s outfit would heal any man’s ailment.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes as I began typing.

Friends, remember. No more enticing seduction routine.

Enticing? Really? Do tell more.