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“AnytimeSweet Girl,” I reply, rocking on my heels. “You ladies have a nice suite,” I note, taking in the size of her room.
“Isn’t it wonderful? At first, I was anxious about the accommodations when we were first invited, but I’m shockingly surprised how accommodating it is for me,” she explains, turning around to face me. “Does this make you a little uncomfortable, Mr. Athlete?” she asks, sensing my discomfort.
Smirking at the nickname I heard the girls give me the day we reconnected, I couldn’t help but shake my head. “Not in the least,” I lie.
It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. At least not in the ways she was thinking. I was more uncomfortable with hiding the fact that I'd been dying to get her alone for so long.
Needing something to distract me from my thoughts, I run a hand through my hair. “Let me make myself useful.”
Wetting her lips with a smirk, Stephanie’s eyes lower as if she understood what I was implying. “How about you help by setting up the charger?” She says, pointing across the room.
“This?” I ask, picking up a black box type thing with a handle.
“Yep, just plug into the wall and bring the base around the bed so I can plug in once I’m parked for the night.”
Following her instructions, Stephanie moves around me and disappears into the bathroom for some privacy. Leaving the door open just a sliver, she carries on the conversation. “So, you never did tell me anything about your family.”
I was never any good at talking about my parent's separation and when they filed for divorce my senior year of high school, Stephanie was the only person I told. “Yeah, they've only gotten worse over the years,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.
“I'm sorry Logan. That must be hard for you.”
“It can be,” I shrug. “The holidays are the hardest,” I confess. “Any other time I don't hear from them anyway.”
“And Mia?” she presses.
“She’s engaged and about to drop her first album,” I said with pride, as Stephanie opens the door wider.
My little sister means the world to me and I feel good knowing she didn’t let the news about our father’s affair derail her future.
“I know,” she says, her eyes reaching mine in the reflection of the mirror. “Your sister and I keep in touch,” she smirks, while she removes her make-up.
“I heard,” I reply, wetting my lips.
“You’re not mad? Are you?” She asks, turning on the faucet to wet her toothbrush.
“Why would I be mad?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Because she’s your sister and we weren’t really talking.”
It pains me to think she feels this way. Even though we weren't in communication she still meant the world to me.
Slipping back into the room, I’m met with a smile. “Do you think you could wheel my bag over here?” She asks, moving towards the bed.
Crossing the room, I couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes move toward my lips every few seconds.
What I wouldn’t give to taste her lips again.
*** Stephanie ***
Having Logan alone in the room with me stirs up all kinds of feelings and emotions, emotions I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Parking my chair, I pressed my lips together as I pushed to my feet.
Losing strength and control the moment I made a move, everything spun and tilted. “Whoa,” I cried, the alcohol suddenly kicking in.
This is why I don’t drink too often.
Reaching for something to steady myself, I come up empty. Struggling to keep myself up, Logan drops my luggage with a thump. “Let me help you. That’s what I’m here for,” he says, rushing to my side.
Catching me in his arms, warmth radiates through my night shirt and heats my skin. Looking up at him with curiosity, my eyes shift towards his lips. Pulling them into a smile, he whispers. “You can’t stop thinking about our kiss, can you?”
