“Are you hiding from me, Little Star?”
His words struck through the years. A reminder of who we’d always had to be.
I fumbled out from around the corner.
His eyes skimmed down my body as if he were remembering the view last night. It didn’t seem to matter that I’d pulled on a pair of pink sweats and a loose fitted, long-sleeved white tee and the thickest, fluffiest socks I’d ever worn.
He still looked at me like I stood there completely bare.
His gaze molten, the smirk that kissed his gorgeous mouth illicit.
“I think it’s time you stopped hiding, Aster.” He took a casual sip of his coffee.
I eased farther out, hoping my knees didn’t knock. “Is it?”
He gazed at me from over the top of his coffee cup. Severity flashed. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Am I afraid of how much it hurts to be around you? Am I afraid that this is a terrible idea? Am I afraid of what’s to come? Yes. But am I afraid of you, Logan?” My head barely shook. “No.”
Maybe I should be. Maybe I should be terrified of it all. But it was with him where I’d always felt safest.
I looked anywhere but at him as he stared me down as if he were searing holes into the places where my secrets lie.
“Coffee?” Warily, I glanced at him.
Not even that was safe.
Because my belly flipped and my stupid heart fluttered.
The man was dangerous to my sanity.
“Of course. Let me get—”
“I have it.” I made a beeline for the pot that was on the opposite side of the island, and I busied myself with pouring it into a mug that was already set out.
Two of them.
My stupid fluttering heart went and panged.
He’d set one out for me and one for Gretchen.
This hard, dangerous man with this soft side that made me melt.
I peeked back at him, wondering if he were the same. If the years hadn’t hardened him.
If there was any part of the boy left who I’d fallen in love with.
I poured in some creamer and fiddled with the spoon, procrastinating as I hovered by the island.
He pointed at the chair across from him. “Sit.”
I hesitated for one second more before I shuffled across the floor and sank onto the chair. Taking a sip of my coffee, I studied the man I was still trying to recognize.
“Do you sleep in that suit?” Okay, so it wasn’t of the utmost importance, but I had to ask, and it seemed like a pretty good distraction from what was bristling between us.
A bolt of amusement rocked from his mouth, then he sat farther back so he could track my movements, that smirk turning wicked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Did he have to toy with me?