Heat Wave

She stares at me and her features harden, giving me nothing. “Yeah. Like I said. The punch. Bill Cosby. Roofies. That whole analogy.” She makes a dismissive gesture with her hand.

I match her innocent expression from earlier. “Charlie disappeared too.”

She shrugs and plucks the empty glass from my hand. “Maybe, I don’t know.” She walks out of my bedroom and over to the kitchen where I can’t see her.

“I saw you guys arguing in the parking lot,” I say loudly so she can hear.

“What? Oh. You know Charlie.”

“I also heard you talking and giggling last night when I was going to sleep. You know. From your bedroom.”

Total silence. She could butter the silence, it’s so thick.

“You don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool,” I say, getting out of bed. “I ain’t one to pry. But if you do want to talk about it, you’ll know where I am. Right here. Or in the restaurant. That’s pretty much it. And I’m all ears.”

To Kate’s credit she keeps mum about the whole thing, at least for the morning. I head out on the balcony with a large cup of coffee and watch the waves in the distance, listening to the soft coos of the tiny zebra doves that have perched along the railing.

And I ruin all that morning Zen and calmness by thinking about what the fuck happened last night.

Holy. Shit.

Logan kissed me. Logan basically told me he wanted me, was attracted to me, as much as I wanted him. And he wasn’t just leading me on, not in that way. I felt his desire, I felt everything I’d always wanted.

And yet the minute that a light was shone upon us, we both balked. We both acted like nothing was happening because we both felt guilty. He can tell me how badly I want him and how I beat myself up over it and I’ll admit he’s right. I’m not sure how he knows that, if I’m that transparent, if it was wishful thinking, but he’s right. And the guilt has been eating me alive.

But that same guilt plagues him. Maybe it’s the cheating he did on Juliet, maybe it’s because of the same reason as it is for me, but he can’t pretend that his own desires and ego aren’t slave to the same machine.

So where does that leave us? What has changed now? That kiss woke me up, made me realize not only how deep my own feelings went, how badly my body craved what it couldn’t, shouldn’t have, but it showed me it wasn’t one-sided. Logan wants me too.

Logan wants me too.

I think that’s the one I’m having the most trouble with. Why a man like him would be interested in a girl like me is beyond my comprehension. It’s not a matter of false modesty and humility. I get why Charlie might want me (not that he does since he’s currently boning—or reboning—Kate) or maybe even Dan. But Logan is older. Probably the most handsome, manliest, most fuckable man I’ve ever met. And he can—and has—attracted the most gorgeous women. I’m just the cook at his hotel.

And, fuck, that’s another reason why all of this is a big mistake. You’d think I would fucking learn from last time, from throwing my future all away because I slept with my boss. I mean, what the hell am I thinking?

That question will get me through the rest of my day. It makes the hangover peel away and forces me to look at last night as a drunken, momentary lapse of judgment. Whatever feelings I have for Logan have to end now, because as we both proved last night, alcohol is a bad idea and being horny is never an excuse to do something you regret.

Because now I do regret what happened. I’m not going to dwell on it or beat myself up anymore but I am going to make sure that it will never, ever happen again.

When I head back into the unit, I’m full of new resolve. Meanwhile Kate is looking guilty, standing in the corner of the kitchen with a mousy expression and drinking coffee.

“Am I an idiot?” she asks me quietly.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask, putting my coffee cup in the sink. I fold my arms across my chest, grateful to worry about someone else’s mistakes. “Why, because you slept with Charlie?”

She nods. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

I smile. “That’s usually how these things start out. I wouldn’t worry about it, honestly. I mean, it’s Charlie. You told me about your relationship with him before. You work together, you got drunk, he’s a nice guy. It’s not a big deal.”

Kate doesn’t look convinced. She raises a brow. “Did you rehearse all that stuff to say to me?”

“No!” I quickly tell her. “No, not at all. It’s just…don’t feel bad. You’re not an idiot. Just…chalk it up to what it is and we’ll all move on. I mean, you’ll move on.” Her brow remains raised, and I clear my throat. “I’m, uh, going to go take a shower.”