6: So Uh...Logan

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A long breath escaped my mouth as I leaned my back up against the door and calmed myself down. Uncomfortable doesn’t begin to cover how I was feeling. It wasn’t because Logan had been so strong compared to me. That didn’t bother me. It was the fact that I hadn’t wanted to stop.

The image of Logan’s perfect face lingered in my mind and I could feel my heart pick up. “I’m insane.” I muttered as I shook away the image.

“As proven by you talking to yourself.” Maver groaned and I squinted my eyes to try and see him.

“Incoming.” I warned as I stepped forward and let myself fall onto the futon. “So how’s the hangover?”

Maver groaned and slung his arm over my waist. “Don’t have one. I think I threw up more than I drank.”

I chuckled. “Lightweight.”

“Hey now, you don’t even drink. Don’t be calling me a lightweight.”

“So uh. . . . Logan.”

He knew exactly what I had meant. “Yeah well we can’t all be perfect little angels. I guess that’s kinda why I never introduced you guys. Not really a family man.”

“Yeah.” I muttered and my mind wandered back to the feeling of Logan’s body pressed up on mine.

“He’s twenty three I think.”

“You think?”

Maver chuckled. “Look, I don’t know okay? He’s my brother, not my boyfriend. I don’t need to know these things.”

I put up my hands up defensively. “Hey now I never asked his age so chill.”

“Yeah yeah.” He muttered before rolling and laying his head on my abs, his face towards my breasts. “What time do you need to be home by?”

I shifted a little bit, uncomfortable at how touchy feely Maver had been getting lately. We’d been best friends since tots and we’d always been cuddly with each other but recently it had been making me feel awkward. “I have basketball practice today so like 2ish.”

His head shifted on my stomach as he nodded. “What time is it?”

“Uhm . . . not really sure. I left my phone in your car.” I shrugged and unwrapped the poptarts. I ripped off the edged, eating them first then working my way to the middle.

The door swung open and I handed Maver the other poptart as I looked over to see who it was. “I’m going food shopping, you want anything?” Logan asked from the doorway.

He was dressed in a tight white wifebeater that clung perfectly to his amazing body, showcasing his large smooth biceps. My eyes traced out the black of the tattoos that hid slightly visible under the shirt on his chest. “No man. What time is it?”

He fished a phone from the pocket of his baggy jeans and flipped it open. “A little after noon.”

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