“You wouldn’t mind me crashing on the couch?”
“You can have my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’m pretty beat so I’ll pass out as soon as I lie down,” I say, hating myself as the words leave my mouth.
Danielle wrinkles her nose, and I have no fucking clue how someone can look that damn adorable and sexy as fuck at the same time. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Owen shaking his head.
“That’d be great then.” Danielle pushes off the wall, teetering on her heels a bit when she walks. “I’m going to use the bathroom first.”
“Seriously?” Owen says once Danielle is out of earshot. “You’re going to pass out as soon as you’re on the couch? She’s drunk. Now’s your chance to make a move. If she rejects you, there’s a good chance she won’t remember it in the morning.”
“I’m not making a move when she’s drunk,” I deadpan.
“Right. Because you’re never going to make a move at all.”
“Shut up,” I tell my twin, giving him a warning glare. We push each other’s buttons like no one else can, perks to being an identical twin, and no one else is allowed to mess with us the way we mess with each other. But even Owen knows there’s a line to cross and the heckling over Danielle is inching toward it.
I’ve had feelings for Danielle since the moment I met her. Sometimes I think the feelings are mutual, but Danielle’s made it clear she has no intentions of settling down in Eastwood. Making a move might complicate things, and I don’t want to risk what we have.
I’d rather have her in my life as a friend than not at all.Chapter 2Danielle“Why did I think tequila shots were a good idea?” I rub my forehead, blinking my eyes open to watch the farmland pass us by. Everything is dark, and then a raccoon’s eyes reflect in the headlights. It probably won’t be long until we see a deer as well. I’ve learned to drive well below the speed limit on some of these country roads at night. You never know what kind of wildlife will run out in front of you.
Logan laughs softly and reaches into the backseat of his car, pulling a water bottle out of an open case and handing it to me.
“Thanks,” I say and go to take it from him. My fingers brush over his, and I’m almost startled by how soft and warm his skin feels against mine. I wonder if the rest of him is just as—nope. I can’t go there.
First of all, he’s my boss.
And second, what’s the point of starting a relationship when I’m not staying here forever? I’m a bit ride-or-die when it comes to dating. I either want casual, first-name-only-basis or we’re-in-it-for-the-long-haul kind of deal. Logan has long-haul potential, but I’m kind of a basket case, and he’s, well…Logan.
Handsome. Polite. A bit broody and moody, which really just adds to his charm. His t-shirts are just tight enough to show off his muscles. And that’s not to mention his strong jawline that’s always covered in the perfect amount of stubble.
Family is important to him, and he’s probably one of the most loyal people I know. He loves dogs and likes to read and—shit. I’m doing it again. I twist the cap off the water bottle and chug half of it, feeling much better once the water hits my stomach.
Logan’s place isn’t far from the bar. I know because I’ve been there before. Just never at night like this. With the intention of falling asleep there.
Which isn’t a big deal. We’re friends. And friends let friends crash at their place when they need to. I steal another glance at Logan, getting the most unwelcome feeling of fluttering in my chest. A passing car’s headlights illuminate his handsome face and I need to look away.
“Did we forget Owen at the bar?”
“He went home with some girl he met tonight. She was waiting for him to get off work.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Hasn’t he slept with most of Eastwood by now?”
“He has. I better warn your grandpa Owen’s moving into a new age bracket. He should lock things down with Adele to keep Owen from making a move.”
“You’re such a dick,” I laugh, playfully nudging Logan’s arm. His skin is warm like I imagined, and my fingers linger just a little too long. Swallowing hard, I shift in my seat and take another drink of water.
Logan messes with the radio and we drive the rest of the short way to his place listening to music and not talking. Yellow light spills from the porch and into the lawn. Logan and Owen live together in a cookie-cutter house in a newer subdivision on the outskirts of Eastwood. The house looks like it was lifted from a middle-aged housewife’s Pinterest board, and is the last house I’d expect two eligible bachelors to live in.