It takes me a minute to realize why I’m not in my bed, and why I’m smiling. Logan. I rise from the bed and head straight to the bathroom. I use his shower gel to wash; it smells like him, and I imagine that Logan is in here with me. God, the things he did with his hand last night... To take my mind off the heated moment—because otherwise, I’ll be frustrated the entire day—I do what I love most in the shower: sing obnoxiously at the top of my lungs. After I step out of the tub, I dress in the clothes I brought yesterday and head to the kitchen, a delicious smell guiding me. To my astonishment, I find the table set and plenty of food on it. “And here I was, thinking you not only sleep but also eat breakfast naked,” Logan says. Holy wow. I’ve only seen Logan wearing suits. Now he sports a pair of washed-out jeans and a simple white T-shirt. Casual looks good on him. In fact, more than good. The fabric molds to his skin, showcasing his to-die-for body even more so than his work shirts.
