“It was, without a doubt, the most erotic, passionate night of my life,” he stated sincerely. “And just so you know, Lottie? I have never stayed the night with anyone else. Ever.”
“Oh.” I paused but had to ask. “Why not? Why me?”
He shrugged. “Sex has always been about release. It’s never been emotional for me. Until yesterday. And why you, you ask? I have no idea, except you’re different. What I feel about you is different.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m not particularly proud of my past. But before you jump to conclusions, I was always honest with my partners, and there haven’t been as many as you’re imagining in that pretty little head of yours. I’m not a manwhore.”
“Oh,” I repeated. “I didn’t mean to make you think I thought you were.”
“I’m simply being honest. I was monogamous with each of my partners—but they all ran their course.”
“What happened?”
He frowned. “They moved on. Found relationships with a future.”
“But I’m different?” I asked.
“Yes. You are my future.”
Our breakfast arrived, and I looked at the overflowing plate, trying to take in his words.
“Eat,” he encouraged. “We’ll talk this through. We’ll figure it out.” He pushed my plate closer. “This is too heavy a discussion before I’ve had breakfast.”
I picked up my fork, hesitating.
“Lottie,” he murmured, waiting until I looked up to speak. “You are different. You’re everything I’ve been waiting for and didn’t know. I want you in my life. As long as you feel the same way, we’re good.”
“Okay.”
“Eat your breakfast while it’s hot.” He scolded gently. “I need you strong.” He winked lewdly. “I have lots of plans for you to burn it off.”
His expression made me giggle, and I started to eat.
He tucked his shaggy hair behind his ear and picked up his fork.
“You need a trim.”
He grimaced. “I know.”
“Do you wear your hair down when you teach?”
“Usually not. I pull it back.”
“The front of your hair is really blond.”
He chewed and swallowed, then chuckled. “One of my roommates has a girlfriend going through hairdressing school. She needed to practice, so I let her add what she called lowlights. But they bleached out in the sun over the summer. I’m trying to let them grow so I can cut them off. She wants to cut it now, but I’ve been waiting and haven’t taken her up on the offer. I will eventually.” He ate more off his plate, then eyed me warily. “You don’t like it? The hair, I mean.”
“Actually, I do. I think it’s very sexy.” I paused. “I think everything about you is very sexy.”
He grinned so hard, his incredible eyes crinkled. “I like knowing that.”
I patted my mouth with a napkin and took a sip of my coffee, unsure what else to say. He shook his head, still grinning. “You are adorable, Lottie Prescott. Totally adorable.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t respond. I hadn’t been adorable since I was six years old. But I kinda liked him thinking that way.We stopped at a small grocer in the neighborhood. It was a rarity in Toronto. A family-run operation where you could still grab necessities, without having to go to a huge supermarket. They had a small produce and meat section as well, and I picked up a few things for my barren fridge. Logan carried the bag with one hand, his other holding mine. As we rounded the corner, I stopped, horrified at what I saw in front of my building down the block.
Logan frowned and followed my gaze. A large black town car was outside my building, running, the exhaust hanging in the air.
I stepped back, dragging Logan with me.
“Your parents?” he guessed.
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “I had no idea they would show up this morning.”
“I imagine your dad isn’t happy about yesterday.”
I grimaced in annoyance. “I took a day off. One day off. This is overboard, even for him.”
“So, I assume this is where I leave you.”
My gaze flew to him. He was regarding me sadly, but his eyes showed no hurt. Only understanding. “I, ah—”
He cut me off. “I’m not offended, Lottie. I’m not ready to meet your parents either. It would be better if I met them under different circumstances when I don’t want to tell them what I think about how they treat their daughter.”
I widened my eyes at his words. He traced a finger down my cheek. “I am sad to leave you, though. I wanted more time with you today.”
“They won’t stay long.”
He huffed. “That seems even worse.”
I remained silent. He bent low and kissed me. Gently, sweetly—his mouth tender, his lips ghosting over mine.
“My place is two blocks past yours. Number fifteen hundred. Unit twelve. Come find me when you’re ready.”
He hooked the grocery bag over my arm. “Now, go.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Be a stranger.” He paused. “I’ll be waiting.”