Burn (17 page)

The boxing bag hanging down from the ceiling in the middle of the room is the first thing I notice when I open my eyes. I’m still in Logan’s place. I’m also hardly the expert on the subject, but I feel like I at least know enough that “sleeping over” is pretty much top on the “not-to-do” check-list when it comes to casual hook-ups.
 

Of which I know
nothing
about, apparently.

Oh, shit. Shit-shit-shit-shit.

I should
not
have done that. What the hell was I even thinking? Drinks, skinny-dipping in a deserted rooftop pool? Did I actually
buy
all that crap? When I look back on the previous night, it just seems like some sort of cliched movie scene from some cookie-cutter romantic comedy, and there I was swallowing it hook, line, and sinker.

Hardly the only thing you swallowed last night
; the thought has me blushing bright crimson and biting my lip.

I mean whatever happened to that first time being a “one-time thing”? What happened to calling it a mistake that I was just going to push to a dark corner of my mind; one that I’d keep covered with an extra glass of wine or three at any family get-togethers where I’d have to be around him? Yeah, a one time thing; and here I’ve gone and done it again -
twice
.

I can feel Logan stirring behind me, the scruff of his chin brushing against the back of my neck as he absently kisses the skin there. The subtle movement is
perfect
, and at the same time, it’s terrifying; terrifying because of how damn
comfortable
it feels being in his arms with the familiarity of that kiss on my neck.

What
are we doing? Because as perfect and familiar as this feels, why does it also feel like some dirty little secret affair?

“Morning, gorgeous,” He mumbles, his arms pulling me tighter against his bare body. But I’m squeezing my eyes shut and trying to fight the swinging of my heart between wanting to let myself just sink into him or just jump out of this bed and run.

My phone chimes from the floor next to the bed, distracting me from the moment, but I ignore it and begin to shift towards him; “Logan, I- I mean, we-”

My cell goes off again, and I frown and turn back to grab it off the floor and peer at the text on the screen:

“I’m downstairs- Buzz me up! Let’s get brunch.”

It’s
Reagan
. My
sister
is downstairs probably trying to buzz my apartment, which I can’t hear because I’m naked in bed with her fucking
brother-in-law
.

“Oh,
shit!
” I’m bolting out of his arms and sliding out of the bed, looking wildly around for my clothes and trying to ignore the fact that I’m naked.

“Hang on,” He says sleepily, “I’ll walk you-”

“No, Logan, I have to get out of here.” I snap.

“OK, OK, relax, Doc-”

“
Now
, Logan.” I huff out quickly, yanking my shorts on and looking under the bed for my shirt.

“You know, for the girl who doesn’t do flings, you’re starting to get pretty good at this whole hit it and quit it thing, Quinn.”

I jerk my head up to see the dry smile on his face; “That’s- that’s not what I-” I shake my head; “I mean it’s no big deal, I just don’t-”

“So how about we just invite Reagan up for some breakfast then.”

He plucks my phone off the bed, and I shriek and snatch it back out of his hands; “Don’t you
dare!
” He gives me a thin smirk before his eyes narrow and he looks away.

“Wait, Logan, I didn’t-”

“Yeah, Doc, I get it.”

“I just mean she can’t-”

“She can’t know about this
lurid
little secret; I
get it
, Quinn.”

I’m dressed, but I’m just standing there across the bed from him, not really sure what I’m waiting for. Closure? Release? Affirmation that me running out the second we wake up and not talking about what happened doesn’t just make this whole thing even more messed up?

“Logan-”

My phone rings again in my hand and I wince. Logan just slides out of bed and pads across the loft to the bathroom, where he slams the door shut behind him.

*****

“Hey, you ok?”

I’m walking through the Union Square Farmer’s Market with Reagan, picking over strawberries and trying to drag my mind away from what happened back in Logan’s apartment. I’m also trying to concentrate on whatever my sister is talking about. Clearly, I’m failing.

“Uh, yeah,” I shake my head and pop a strawberry into my mouth; “Yeah, I’m fine I guess.”

Reagan arches a brow at me with a sisterly look I know all too well; “Bullshit.”

“You know, you’re starting to swear as much as your husband, Ray.” I stick my tongue out at her; “You two
are
going to have to quit talking like sailors when the baby comes along you know; “ I say, nodding at the small bulge in her stomach.

“Oh, give me a break; I happen to like my husband’s dirty mouth,” Reagan says with a wicked little wink, and I blush. Of course she doesn’t know that I’m
actually
blushing for a
different
reason concerning that particular dirty word-play.

Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a dirty mouth, Doc?

OK, yeah,
that
needs to get the hell out of my head
right
now.

“You’re distracted.”

“Hmm?” I try and look as innocent as possible, which is hard with thoughts of Logan’s cock throbbing through my head and the guilty blush across my cheeks.

“Is it work? No, wait,” Reagan peers into my face with a little grin; “It’s a
guy
, isn’t it.”

Crap.

“Nope.”

“
Quinn
.”

“Hmm?” My sister has this big shit-eating grin on her face and I look at her nervously; “
What
?”

“
Uh,
Quinn you have a
giant
hickey on your neck.”

The flush hits my face like a heatwave, and I cringe and look away as she laughs; “Well
well
! Cool as a cucumber Quinn is all turned around because of a
guy
! Do I need to save this date for posterity or something?”

I roll my eyes, trying to will the color away from my cheeks; “It’s not
like
that.”

“Well, then dish; what
is
it like?”

Forbidden? Off-limits? Wrong? Incredibly hot and the best sex I’ve ever had in my life?
 

“He’s- he's someone I shouldn't be with; like at all.”

Reagan rolls her eyes; “Well you’re talking to the right girl, you know. We’re in
my
wheelhouse now!”

O
h you have no freaking idea how right you are, Ray
, I want to say. But of course I don’t.

“
So
, spill it! Why is this such a bad thing?” Reagan frowns; “Oh, God, this isn’t another workplace thing like with Andrew, is it?”

“Uh, no.” I swallow heavily and look away to avoid her look, but I know she catches me anyways.

“Quinn-”

“Ok! Yeah,
sort of
.”

Reagan’s eyes go wide as she grins at me; “At Archer? Is he like your boss or something” She makes a dramatic face as she pokes me in the arm; “
Ooo,
so
scandalous
, girl!”

“Sort of? Not
really
I guess.”

More like just plain bossy?

My younger sister waves her hand as if brushing something away; “Oh, who cares then? I say go for it; I mean
how long
ago
was Andy?”

We’ve moved on from the strawberries towards a stand selling cutesy “farm-style” kitchen utensils; “Uh, well, I also sort of live with him.”

It spills from my mouth before I can stop it, and Reagan about drops the wooden salad bowl she’s looking at as she turns to stare at me with her jaw on the ground; “
What?!
”

“No! No, not like-! I mean, he
lives
in my building.” I stammer, feeling more and more flustered the further down this rabbit hole we get.

“
Ooooh!
” Reagan shakes her head at me; “Well, yeah I guess that would make things complicated.”

Tell me about it,
I think glumly, dropping my gaze to the ground.
 

She seems to see the fall in my face though; “Well, is he worth it?”

I shrug.

“Is he worth
you
?”

I hope so? On both accounts?

*****

“Look, what are you doing now?”

We’re back from the farmer’s market in the lobby of my building, arms full of organic produce. I laugh; “Making salad for the next thirty-seven meals?”

Reagan giggles; “Look, let’s just drop this stuff off and go get brunch and mimosas or something.”

I make a face at her; “
Mimosas
, preggo lady?”

She rolls her eyes again, “I mean’t for
you
, doofus; you look like you could use one. I’ll just stick to orange juice and as many sugary breakfast carbs as they’ll let me eat.”

I laugh; “Sounds worth watching, but I actually need to catch up on some stuff for the new proj-”

And just then, the elevator lobby-door next to us decides to ding open, and without a second’s warning, Logan Dempsey walks right off and
right
into us. I briefly wonder what the odds of a sinkhole occurring at that very moment in that very spot are.

Reagan blinks; “
Logan
?” She looks at him quizzically; “What are you
doing
here?”

His face looks pretty much exactly how I’m sure mine does - frozen in absolute shock -
 
but he manages to catch himself faster than me, standing there rooted to the spot; “Oh, I- uh, I live here.” He swallows; “I mean, I keep a place here. It’s a temporary thing.”

“Oh!” Reagan frowns, looking confused before she turns my way; “Quinn, why didn’t you
tell me
that Logan-”

I know its over when I can feel the heat just
pulsing
from my face; “
Oh,
” She finishes, giving me a strange little grin before turning back to him with a smile; “Oh
you
live here!”

“Uh, yeah, sort of.” His eyes dart to mine over Reagan’s shoulders, and I can see the flash of something in them; “Just a temporary space really while they're working on re-doing my penthouse.”

“Oh,
right
, of course!” Reagan turns back and looks pointedly at me, before she turns back to Logan; “Well, Logan, whoever she was, I hope you’ve got her locked back up now.”

He frowns; “Excuse me?”

“The jungle girl who gave you those crazy hickies on your neck!” Reagan grins, clearly relishing this moment while I just want to melt through the floor right there. Even stone-cold Logan looks totally flustered, and even borderline
blushing
as he laughs nervously. He brings a hand up to rub the marks on his neck, and it wouldn’t take a forensic team to figure out that they pretty much exactly match the size of my lips.

He forces out a chuckle; “Oh, yeah, that.”

The lobby of the building is
so
awkwardly silent for a solid ten seconds that I actually start to wonder if just running back out the door would be as horribly embarrassing a plan as it sounds.