Page 29

I blinked a few times, still trying to process everything he was telling me. “And then you just…what? Asked for her number?”

I was trying to imagine how this had all gone down, and I failed.

He lifted a shoulder. “Something like that.” As if asking freaking Emerson Thorne-Crawford for her number was no big deal.

“I hope that’s okay. I know you don’t want people to know that we’re…well, that we know each other, but⁠—”

Oh. Fuck. That.

I lunged at him, wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you.”

He stood there for a minute as if stunned. But then his arms circled me, holding me close. We stayed like that, just breathing each other in. His body was warm and firm, the slick material of his goose down jacket sliding against mine. He smelled like fresh earth after a rainstorm mixed with leather and pine. It was intoxicating.

My heart was pounding, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and it was only then that I realized just how close we were standing. How tightly I was holding on to him. How safe he made me feel, his arms wrapped securely around me—Carson. The man my brother loathed.

I didn’t want to let go. I also knew I needed to put some space between us.

I let out a shaky breath and slowly lowered my arms, resisting the urge to let them linger on his chest. He slid his hands down my arms, seeming reluctant to let go.

What was I thinking?

I wasn’t sure I’d been thinking at all.

I stepped back, putting some space between us. “I, um—” I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Well, that escalated quickly.” I laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to attack you.”

“Attack me anytime you want.” He grinned.

I gave him a playful shove, needing to return us to our usual dynamic—friends.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m glad you like your gift.”

That was an understatement. I couldn’t think of a more perfect present. It was so incredibly thoughtful.

“How much time before your flight leaves?”

He watched me with a regretful expression. “Not enough.”

His words filled me with warmth. But instead of allowing myself to dwell on his expression or the meaning behind his words, I tugged on his forearm, determined to return his kindness in some small way. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” he asked, glancing around.

“You’ll see.” I grinned.

CHAPTER SIX

Ifollowed Logan down the sidewalk past historic brick warehouses and trendy restaurants where the noise and heat from inside spilled out to us. I chuckled, jogging slightly to keep up while ignoring the time. I needed to head to the airport soon, but I couldn’t seem to tear myself away from her. Especially not when she glanced at me over her shoulder, biting back a smile.

Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. Tip of her nose just as pink. It was fucking adorable—she was adorable, with a sage-green beanie shoved over her freshly washed hair. Hair that was smooth and silky and smelled incredible—like the potted gardenias that my mom used to move in and out of the house every summer and fall to protect them from the Michigan weather.

Logan stopped in front of a building with a red brick façade and arched windows. She led me to a hunter-green double door, where she flashed a keycard to disengage the lock.

Wait. I furrowed my brow. Surely she wasn’t… Was she taking me to her place?

While I tried to determine what Logan had planned, I followed her inside, grateful for the warmth. I might have grown up in Michigan, but my body had become acclimated to living in warmer climates, thanks to my time in LA.

She pressed the elevator call button, and then I followed her inside. The entire time, I was silent—both bursting with things I wanted to ask, wanted to say—and also, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were spending time together. That she was bringing me back to her home.

I didn’t rush to fill the silence, and neither did she. Though we kept stealing glances at each other as the elevator ascended to the tenth floor.