Nothing was ever going to be okay again.
“Right,” she said weakly, blinding stretching her hand out to find the rock ledge behind her. She just needed to catch her breath. And maybe knock her head against something hard.
Logan’s tongue had been inside her mouth. His hands had…
And she’d practically rubbed up against his…
She jerked her gaze back to his face, although that wasn’t a safer place to look, not with the possessive, hungry way he was glaring at her.
Stephen had never looked at her liked that. Not even once.
And she’d never had this reaction to her fiancé, either. Ex-fiancé. Never-loved-you fiancé.
Shit. She shook her head. “I can’t do this right now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t say that. Don’t be sorry. That was…” perfect. “I think I needed that. But I can’t…do anything else. Not right now.”
He nodded jerkily. “Of course.”
“We should head back.”
“Okay.”
She held up her hand. “And I need you to keep being awesome. I need to go out for dinner tonight and it not be weird. Which is a stupidly big thing to ask, but—”
“It won’t be weird.” He held her gaze. “I promise. It’s fine.”
Nine
It was surprisingly fine.
Logan wouldn’t have taken that bet, but the two-hour hike back down the mountain helped take the edge off the fact he’d just blown their relationship to a whole new place—a weird, unwanted place for Tori—and he’d spent the time giving himself a serious lecture about manning up.
She didn’t want him to be her holiday fling.
That wasn’t news.
And it had to be okay.
So when they arrived back at the resort, he pulled her into his arms for a hug—a regular hug. He locked away all the stupid things he wanted to say to her and gave her the most platonic squeeze he could manage, then kissed her temple. “Go get dolled up. I’ll head over to reception and see if we can get a dinner reservation for one of the resort restaurants.”
“I don’t mind if it’s later,” she said, tilting her face up to his. “I could handle a nap before we eat.”
“Later it will be.” He flashed her a totally cool grin, which she returned, pleasant surprise dancing across her face.
See? Fine.
He left her at their villa and hit the reception desk, got a reservation, and then circled past the gift shop in the lobby to get some chocolate. Not fancy chocolate, but M&Ms and shit like that.
Best friend chocolate.
Sorry for kissing you, let’s talk about hilarious memories from high school chocolate.
Except he wasn’t sorry, and she didn’t want him to be sorry, so it was just…Hey, wow, isn’t this complicated? Here. Have chocolate.
That would work.
The villa was quiet when he returned. Tori’s door was ajar, so he knocked quietly and stuck his head inside. She was curled up on the bed, softly snoring. She’d showered and changed into yoga pants and a t-shirt.
His chest throbbed. Damn, he wanted to curl up with her.
Instead, he took a quick shower and stretched out on his bed.
She came to find him an hour and a half later, still dressed in her comfy clothes. “Hey,” she said from his doorway. Her gaze flitted over him and around the room, then back to him. Nervous but not shy.
He stretched his arms out wide and gave her a lazy, warm grin. No reason to be nervous. “Dinner reservation is at eight.”
“Lots of time, still.”
He nodded.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?”
“Beach for sure. Hit the market in town, too?”
“Definitely.” She leaned back, holding on to the doorframe. Like she was stretching out her back.
“You sore?”
“Nah.”
“Come here. I’ll rub your neck.”
She raised her eyebrows and he felt a surge of heat—that he had every intention of ignoring.
“And just your neck.”
She laughed gently and eased her way into his room, hips and nervous smile first. He sat up and swung his legs around so he was bracketing the corner of his bed, and he patted the space in front of him. “Sit here.”
Once she was settled, her hair tugged out of the way over one shoulder, he rubbed his hands together to warm them up, then squeezed her traps gently, rolling along the edges of the muscles on either side of her neck with his thumbs. “Right there?”
“Mmm.”
“Don’t hunch your shoulders up when you carry a pack.”
“It wasn’t heavy!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Bossy.”
“I’m right.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
He worked up and down the muscle until he felt her relax, then he carried the massage out to her shoulders and up into her hairline, then down her spine. Just a bit. Just enough to fully relax her.
Not at all because he wanted his hands on her body any way he could get it.
“Okay,” he said briskly, slapping his hands against his thighs. “Good?”
“Great.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I noticed a fruit tray and a pitcher of rum punch in our fridge. Want a drink before we head over for dinner?”