Page 36 of The Way We Touch
But every time I look at him, my muscles flash with adrenaline. My head gets light, and I’m hot around my ears. The intensity of his presence consumes me. He’s sexy and kind, and when he touches me… Lightning.
I definitely can not kiss Logan Murphy. I might never recover.
When I got home last night after taking care of my precious niece and making sure my older brother had dinner and was hydrated after a long day in the blistering sun, I’d planned to have the kitchen to myself.
I’d prepared to watch those old videos of me dancing at the height of my skill, my dreams of being the next Gelsey Kirkland oozing from every pore, permeating every step and facial expression. I was so damn earnest. I was going to open that old wound, have a good sob, maybe eat some ice cream, face those old demons then email Mrs. Laverne to say I’d take the job at the high school.
Then he emerged from the darkness like a fairytale prince on a mission to carry me out of that dark place and heal my broken heart. You’re very beautiful. You’re very strong…
Outside of my big brothers, I’ve never known a professional player who wasn’t just that—a professional player. They’re really into the game and the football-star swagger, the celebrity, and showing off their status as superjocks, and aren’t I so impressed?
Logan isn’t like that.
He’s easy to talk to, easy to tease, and surprisingly deep.
I’ve turned over what he told me about longing for something true all day. I’ve thought about him on the field with my brother, working with the boys, and encouraging them. I’ve thought about him talking about falling in love.
I’ve thought about his warm hand holding mine, his touch on my cheek while his heated gaze burned my skin as it moved from my cheeks, to my lips, to my breasts. He was electricity and warmth pulsing in my veins. He’s strong and skilled and thinly veiled desire.
We got so close…
“Have you boned him yet?” Craig’s voice jolts me out of my thoughts.
“Shit!”
He shakes his head, disappointed. “I can tell by that pensive look you haven’t.”
“I’m not going to bone my brother’s best friend.” I swipe my finger roughly across the face of the forgotten iPad.
“So you say.” He nods, like he’s waiting for me to confess what I was just thinking.
I’m not confessing anything.
It’s just the two of us at the restaurant this morning, getting ready to open. Allie is at school prepping the library for the fall. She took Kimmie Joy with her, because my little niece loves books, and she’s super Type A when you give her a project.
Also, even if she won’t admit it, Allie is in love with my brother, so naturally she wants to love his daughter as well. I guess that’s not always natural, but Allie is awesome.
I’m browsing hot pepper recipes on the Internet, searching for inspiration for next week’s Dare dish… when I’m not obsessing over Logan.
“I’ve decided to say yes.” His eyes light, and I quickly add. “To teaching ballet at the high school. If you can manage here without me during the day, that is. What do you think?”
His shoulders drop, he shakes his head. “Somehow I manage.”
“It’s only four days a week, a few hours in the afternoon. No Fridays.”
Puckering his lips, I worry he might argue with me. Instead, he lifts my hand off the counter and holds it in both of his.
“Can you do that?” Lowering his face, he catches my eyes.
“What do you mean?” I swallow the knot in my throat, lifting my shoulder and pulling my hand out of his.
“I was there, Dylan, I remember how you cried.” Reaching up, he slides a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’d only seen you cry that hard two other times.”
It’s true. If anyone would know how big of an ask this is for me, it would be Craig. His question is real, and I stop to really consider it. The ceiling fans turn overhead, and a lone seagull cries on the bay. I gaze out at the big, empty dining hall.
“I think I need to do it.” I remember Logan’s words when we talked last night. “I think teaching might help me heal.”
You’re very beautiful. You’re very strong… Maybe I just needed to hear someone say it? The conviction in his voice as he said the words, as he looked directly in my eyes, stirred something deep in my soul.