I Love You, My Neighbour: Chapter 22
Keeping you up for different reasons
Kristy
Coffee. That's the only reason Naomi doesn't catch me snoozing on top of the counter in the café when she walks in on Sunday afternoon. “Nay,” I wave, pleased to see her.
It's been nearly two months since we've spoken in person. In fact, I don't think I've seen her since she told me to make nice with Logan and take him muffins. We've messaged each other a few times, but she's been too busy with work to catch up face-to-face.
“You’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today,” she remarks, taking in my appearance.
“Courtesy of coffee number five.”
She eyes me speculatively and frowns. “You still aren't getting any sleep? I thought things were much better with your neighbour.”
My face flushes bright pink. “They are.”
Well, they were. I have no idea what they are now, or where I stand with him. I don't know what last night was to him. I don't know whether we're friends anymore. I only know that my body still craves his and I've been in a perpetual state of arousal all day.
Considering how long it's been since I last had sex – and considering how much sex we had last night – I should be too sore to even think about indulging in another fantasy with my gorgeous, well-endowed neighbour, but I'm as aroused today as I was last night. Maybe even more so. There's no soreness, just a pleasant ache that turns into a full-fledged throb every time I think about having him between my legs again. Desire hums along every nerve and tissue and reverberates inside every cell. I feel sensitive all over, and hot. And every time I see the whisker rash he left on my thighs and stomach, I long to feel his mouth and lips and tongue all over me again.
“Then why the need for coffee?” Naomi asks, interrupting my hot daydreams. “And why are you blushing like a virgin on her wedding night?”
“I’m not,” I protest.
Her expression is disbelieving. “So, the need for coffee isn’t because of your neighbour?”
“Well…”
Damn it, now I'm blushing even harder.
Naomi’s eyes light up. “Oh, I see. It’s like that, is it?”
“Like what?” I hedge.
Naomi’s grin is massive. “He’s keeping you up for different reasons now.”
Even if I deny it, I figure my blush will give me away. “Maybe,” I say coyly.
“Holy hotness,” Naomi says. “You’re having sex with your neighbour and you don’t tell me about it! You bad girl! God knows I’ve been so busy I don’t have time for my own sex life. I’m going to have to live vicariously through you. Don’t keep me waiting. Spill it.”
I shake my head. “It’s…last night was the first time it happened and I doubt it'll happen again. I haven’t even had time to tell Jess about it.”
And I’m not sure I will tell her about it. There isn’t all that much to tell. Not really.
A brief pang of guilt crops up in me, but I push it down. It’s not like Logan and I are dating – or engaged. We just had sex.
Hot, mind-blowing, ground-shaking sex. But still, just sex.
Naomi waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Judging by the amount of coffee you say you need today, it was good.”
Good? Good doesn't even begin to cover it. I don’t know how I'll ever satisfy my craving for him after the things he did to me last night. I don’t know how I can see him again and not throw myself at him. I'm starting to worry about the possibility of me showing up on his doorstep, on my knees, and begging him to take me and make me burn up all over again.
“It was better than good. It was perfect. Amazing.”
I don’t mean to sound sad or wistful, but Naomi catches the hint of sadness in my voice.
She frowns. “Amazing sex is nothing to feel depressed about.”
“I know. It’s just…I don’t know what happens from here.”
This morning, Logan walked me out to my car and kissed me goodbye before waving me off. I drove to work today so I could spend the maximum amount of time in bed with my neighbour. Just as I expected, when we parted ways there was no mention of the future. No mention of whether he wants to have sex with me again or not. Wondering whether he wants a repeat of last night or whether he prefers to stick to being just friends is driving me to distraction.
I have it bad. But what did I expect? Sleeping with him after I started to fall for him was foolish. Foolish but unavoidable. I was so overcome with need and desire when he kissed me last night, I couldn’t deny him what he wanted, not when I wanted it as much, if not more, than him. Now my emotions are at an all-time high where my neighbour is concerned.
Falling for a guy – especially one who is as dangerous to my heart as Logan is – was the last thing on my to-do list. But despite myself, I'm starting to drown in the feelings I have for him. Logan, on the other hand, simply thinks of me as a friend. A good friend – since he valued our friendship enough to tell his friends not to make a move on me – but a friend, nonetheless. He is still hung up on his grief over Izzy. And quite probably, the only reason he had sex with me is because he was ready to break his drought and I was an easy conquest – someone he didn't have to work hard to impress or woo since we are already friends and I have it bad for the guy.
Now that he's broken the ice with me, he will probably move on to sleeping with other women. After all, why wouldn’t he want to play the field a little now? He's jumped right out of his coma if last night is any indication. And one thing is abundantly clear after last night, Logan Jacobs likes sex. A lot. Since he really doesn't want another relationship, and since he's now broken through the first barrier – sex after Izzy – he is probably ready to start having sex with a variety of women.
He leans on the counter in front of me, a small, knowing smile tugging at those mighty fine lips I can’t seem to keep my eyes off.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
I breathe out slowly, trying not to let on how nervous I feel. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not too tired?”
My face is hot – all of me is hot – as I lift my gaze to meet his. His grey eyes are intense as they search mine.
“I’ve had lots of coffee today,” I tell him. “It’s helped.”
“Good,” he says. “I’m wiped, and I was worried you might have been feeling the same way.”
“I’m okay,” I repeat, feeling incredibly shy.
I don’t want him to think I regret last night, because I don’t regret it. Not at all.
“Are you okay enough to play paintball with me and the guys when you finish your shift?”
“Paintball?”
“They have a great set-up in Corona. The guys want you to come.”
“Oh,” I say, disappointed it's the guys who want me to come and not Logan.
“We can ride there together,” Logan suggests. “I think we could talk on the way there.”
I nod. Of course, I know we need to talk, but I have no idea what's going on in Logan’s mind right now. He isn’t giving anything away. What if he thanks me for last night and tells me he's ready to get back in the saddle and start riding other people? How would we be friends then? Do I still want to be friends with him if he makes it clear he wants nothing but friendship from me?
“The guys won’t let me take no for an answer,” Logan adds.
For a moment he sounds like he's desperate for me to come, but that's just wishful thinking on my part. There's nothing to suggest he wants a repeat of last night and already my heart and hopes for a second night are plummeting to the ground beneath my feet.
“I guess I’d better say yes then,” I say. “Though I haven’t played paintball before. I’ll probably be terrible at it.”
Logan grins. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll be on teams. I’ll take care of you.”
The way he says ‘I’ll take care of you’ makes me remember all the ways he’d taken care of me last night.
I force a smile. “Great.”
“They really like you, you know?” he asks, his expression growing serious. “You’ve completely won them over.”
My smile is more genuine now. “I like them, too.”
“Kyle banged my door down today to tell me I better not have screwed everything up with you.”
“He’s probably just worried about me not baking for him anymore,” I joke.
Logan shakes his head. “It’s more than that. Adam, Jaime, and Kyle all say they’d pick you over me if it came down to it.”
Is that the reason why Logan is here? Because his friends have told him to come and sort things out with me? Because they are giving him a hard time about me?
“They’re your friends,” I tell him. “They don’t have to pick sides. Even if…”
“Even if what?” he asks.
Even if you never want to sleep with me again. Even if I don’t know whether we’re friends anymore. Even if you’ve come to mean more to me than I’ll ever mean to you.
I swallow, unable to say the things I'm feeling right now.
He stands up straighter, his eyes dark and intense on mine. “I know I screwed up last night. I know I behaved…badly. I was hoping to apologize properly, but I’d prefer to do it privately.”
I nod. “Of course.”
And after he apologizes, he’ll tell me he still wants to be friends, and I'll end up walking away from paintball later this afternoon with a bruised heart and a bruised body. I'm sure of it.
Looking away from Logan, I spot Naomi motioning and gesturing towards Logan like a crazy woman, no doubt asking me if Logan is my neighbour – ‘the’ neighbour. Logan is so distracting I've completely forgotten she is here for a moment.
I hold up my finger, motioning for her to wait, causing Logan to frown and then look around for the person I'm communicating with.
Naomi smiles and waves at him when he sees her sitting in the corner of the shop.
“She a friend of yours?” he asks, his gaze returning to me.
“That’s Naomi. We went to high school together.”
“Are you going to introduce us?”
“Why?”
The question just sort of pops out, making Logan frown. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Maybe because you’ve met my friends and you want me to meet one of yours.”
“Ah, yeah,” I say. “Okay. Sure.”
I don’t particularly want to introduce the two of them. Jess is the most attractive out of the three of us, but Naomi is gorgeous as well, with her long, sleek auburn tresses and pretty eyes. She's super-smart, too. She's dressed in a beautiful cool green and white print dress which ends well above her knees today.
It's just as well Logan doesn’t want anything more from me than friendship. I've always felt a little insecure, but after my previous relationships, I'm more than a little insecure. I have no confidence in my ability to keep a man’s attention – especially one like Logan, a man who radiates sex appeal and would have no trouble getting any woman he wants.
“Do you want a coffee or something? I’m making Naomi one.”
“Nah, I’ll just say hello to your friend and then go home. I’ve got plenty of boxes still to unpack. I just want to stop by and make sure you are free this afternoon.”
Like I've been doing anything else. I spend all my free time with him. In fact, I'm tempted to help him finish his unpacking later tonight, but I'm not sure how I'll feel about spending time with him after our ‘talk.’
“Let me finish making her order, and I’ll introduce the two of you,” I say, walking back to the coffee machine.
While I make coffee, Logan proceeds to tell me what I should wear for our afternoon paintballing, as well as filling me in on the last time he’d been out to Carona with the guys.
“Adam is probably going to hunt me down,” Logan says. “He’s still majorly pissed at me for acting like a jealous arsehole last night, so I’m going to be in trouble.”
I don’t comment on the 'jealous arsehole' bit because Adam is completely wrong about that. Logan wasn't jealous I danced with Adam. He was angry at me for leading Adam on and grinding on his friend like a 'dog in heat.'
“This is ready,” I tell Logan, since now isn't the time or place to discuss that painful memory.
Once I finish making the coffee and I have Naomi’s muffin plated, I walk out from behind the counter and motion for Logan to follow me. “Come on over.”
I put the coffee and muffin in front of my friend, who doesn't even glance down at them. Instead, her gaze is fixed on Logan.
“Logan, this is Naomi. Naomi, this is-”
“The neighbour,” she finishes for me.
I watch as Naomi’s gaze slides from the top of his head to the tips of his feet, taking in all his tanned, muscular glory. She looks as impressed as I imagine anyone would be when they meet him for the first time. He's superb.
“Nice to meet you,” Logan says, extending his hand and shaking Naomi’s when it's offered.
“Likewise,” Naomi says with a grin and a slight flush to her face. “I’m pleased to hear you’ve stopped giving my friend such a hard time.”
Logan shoots me a confused look. “You’ve been talking about me?”
“I told Naomi about the…trouble we had in the beginning.” I clear my throat. “Actually, she's the one who suggested I take you muffins.”
“So, I have you to thank for getting me addicted to Kristy’s baking?” Logan responds.
“My friend needs her sleep,” Naomi says, winking at me and making me want to kill her. “If she doesn’t get enough of it, she gets tired and burns things.”
Logan chuckles. “So I’m told. Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Naomi. I have some work to do at home, but I might see you around again.”
“I sure hope so."
I know she doesn't mean to sound so hopeful. She's probably just thinking that Logan and I might become more than just neighbours – dreams that would be dashed just as soon as Logan and I head to paintball – but her words come across on the flirtatious side and I feel adrenaline kick through me as the green-eyed monster possessing me suggests I tackle my friend to the ground.
“Will you be okay to leave for paintball around four?” Logan asks me.
“I will. I’ll see you then.”
“I’d offer you a lift home, but since you drove to the café…”
“It's fine. I’ll drive home, get changed and come over.”
Logan nods and leaves, leaving me alone with my still salivating friend.
“He's…Wow.”
“I know,” I agree, my voice full of defeat as I take the seat opposite her. “Why would he want to be with me again when he has the potential to be with…with people who are in his league in a way I’ll never be?”
She reaches over and takes one of my hands in hers, clucking her tongue. “Kristy, you need to stop selling yourself short. Didn’t you see the way he looked at you when he walked in? I thought he was about to kiss you senseless and take you on the counter.”
“But he didn’t. He didn’t touch me.”
“That's because the two of you need to talk, and he doesn’t know where he stands with you.”
“I don’t know where I stand with him.”
“Doesn't he want you to play paintball with him later?”
“His friends want me to play.”
Naomi rolls her eyes. “I doubt that’s the only reason he wants you there. Plus, he could have texted or called you to ask if you wanted to come, or given them an excuse if he didn't want you to come. Instead, he came here to ask you in person. That counts for something.”
I pause to think about it. “I guess you’re right, he could have just texted or called. Then again, his friends are giving him a hard time because they want him to “fix” things with me.”
“Why are they giving him a hard time about fixing things with you?”
I sigh. “We went out to a club last night and Logan lost his temper, yelling at me for dancing with his friend.”
Naomi’s eyes widen, then she grins. “Was he jealous?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Naomi leans forward, confidence oozing from her every pore. “Read my lips, girl. He is jealous. I’d bet my life on it.”
I shake my head. Adam thought the same thing, apparently, but he and Naomi are both wrong, aren't they?
“He doesn’t think of me as anything more than a friend,” I tell her. “I mean, he's obviously attracted to me in some way – last night proves that, but his friendship with me is the reason he didn't want me dancing with Adam. He's worried Adam is going to come between us by making a move on me, which is ridiculous since Adam only thinks of me as a friend.”
Naomi sighs – a sigh that borders on frustration. Clearly, she wants to contradict me but realizes it would be pointless.
“So, how’s work?” I ask, changing the subject.
Before Naomi finishes updating me on the latest office politics at work, a last-minute rush of customers floods the café. It doesn’t happen very often on a Sunday, but today is clearly one of those Sundays when everyone needs coffee. I'm not the only person indulging in all-night sexual aerobics, I decide, as a very tired-looking woman asks for two extra shots in her coffee.
Naomi leaves after finishing her drink and muffin, but not before mouthing the words ‘good luck’ as she walks out the door.
I know, of course, exactly what – or rather who – she's referring to.