Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(46)

He lowered his head a fraction until I glanced back up at him, met his gaze.

“I’m not taking my clothes off.” His tone had quieted.

I blinked again. “You’re not?”

“No. I have to go. Need to check on Lo. She’s got a boy over. Need to make sure no one takes their clothes off tonight.”

“Right.”

“It’s important to be ready for a big step like that.” He cast me a serious look.

He wasn’t just talking about Lo. My thoughts scrambled at the new information I hadn’t prepared for. Could I take that step? Would I ever be ready?

“Maybe a towel though?” He arched his brows “And my phone and shoes?” An easy smile suddenly warmed his face.

“Yes. A towel.” That, I could do.

And as I ran back up the stairs, grabbed two of my fluffiest from the linen closet, and pulled his phone from the cord before hooking my fingers into the back of his running shoes, I pushed aside my fear about the rest.

As I’d learned in the last couple of months—with everything in my life—the only way to keep moving forward when monumental things worried me was to ignore them until I was ready to deal with them.

By the time I dropped his shoes beside him and handed him the towels, he’d already shed most of the water into a puddle on the concrete. And the unexpected storm still raged outside.

“Take those with you.” I nodded to the towel he’d tucked under his arm while he rubbed the other over his head. “You may need them by the time you make it to your truck.”

“Thanks.” He’d taken his socks off. Must’ve wrung them out, because the soggy never-going-to-be-white-again things were half-tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

I stared above them at a narrow strip of exposed skin, a ripple and shadow of one of his abs, then swallowed hard.

“Tomorrow. Noon?” He wrapped the towel around the back of his neck.

“What?” I blinked, confused. My thoughts had gotten stuck on his hidden body again.

“The barbeque?” He held my gaze as he worked his feet into his shoes.

“Right. Yes.” I nodded, brain finally unsticking. “I’ll text you the address.”

“We’ll be there.”

As he stared at me, indecision flashed in his eyes for a split second—like he didn’t want to leave.

I pressed my lips together, unsure of what to do. I couldn’t have him stay—needed him to go. But a growing part of me wanted to take a crazy risk, invite him to take those clothes off, see where it could lead.

Common sense overrode what I wanted, what he wanted.

I made the choice for us, giving him a stern look as I opened the door. “Tomorrow.”





Darren…

The following day, I sat on my couch and stared at our latest exchange, all eight texts, one more time. Kiki had started sending them a couple of hours ago. I’d found her first one thirty minutes after my earlier shower.



Thanks for the talk last night.



And the songs.



And the Chinese.



I’d replied.



Welcome.



You never picked a favorite.



Her response fired right away.



Song?



I’d volleyed it back.



No. Chinese dish.



After that, her replies had come through slower. The next, about twenty minutes later.



Not one of them.



An instant additional text popped up.



All of them.



I smiled now. Rereading with anticipation for the next part. My response had been basic. Smug-laced from my point of view, but basic.



Good.



Her last text still stunned me.



My favorite of the 3? The talk.



The talk. I stared at her words.

She might have been spooked before. But now? She seemed to be inviting me over to her side. What side was that exactly? A one-night stand had been out from the beginning—she knew that. Was she ready for something more than friends?

“Better prepare yourself, Kiki,” I muttered.

I checked the time on my phone again, then glared up at the ceiling, impatient. “Logan! You ready?” I shouted. “It’s a barbeque not prom.”

“Coming!” She rounded the top banister corner before bounding down the stairs. “Oh, good. You’re wearing jeans too. I had on a summer dress and cardigan, but looked like a preppy housewife. Then I put on shorts and a tank top. But that felt too casual.”

I roped an arm around her neck and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “You look great. Perfect for a barbeque. And they’ll love you no matter what you wear.”

With a grin, I let out a relieved breath. It felt great seeing her want to impress others. It meant that being accepted was important to her—that the world seemed worthwhile and she wanted to be part of it again.

I was also glad I wasn’t the only nervous one. Did I know everyone there? Sure. We were all loose friends through Loading Zone and Invitation Only parties that Kiki and her family ran.

But this was the first time I’d be going as something more. Someone Kiki had attached herself to—even if she didn’t know it yet.