Up In Flames by Nicole Williams Page B

looked even more uncomfortable when I patted the space on the bed beside me.
    I had to be with the only teenage guy in existence who didn’t jump at the opportunity to crawl into bed with his girlfriend.
    “I’m tired and wanted to put my feet up,” I said, scooting over as Logan took a few tentative steps inside. “I might even pass out for a while before work, so I wanted to be comfortable. Do you mind?”
    I could see from his face that he did, but he kept walking towards me. I didn’t get any satisfaction out of making Logan uncomfortable, but the guy wanted to marry me tomorrow and was uncomfortable lying next to me on his bed. Fully clothed, watching a movie, and maybe, maybe, a little hand holding.
    “No, it’s fine. Dad and Mom aren’t going to be home until later anyways.” He set his plate down on his nightstand before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. If he sat anymore on that edge, he was going to fall off. “It will be our little secret.”
    Little secret. Dirty little secrets. I couldn’t seem to not think about Cole for longer than two minutes.
    Scooting back, Logan leaned into the headboard and tried to get comfortable. He still wasn’t quite there, but he got points for trying.
    “I made some tea for you.” He held out the steaming mug where I saw a familiar tag swinging from a string.
    Every day before this one, I’d taken the tea and drank it down like a champ.
    Every day until this one.
    “Logan,” I said, propping up on my elbows. “I don’t like tea. In fact, I hate it even. And if I could pick the kind I hated the most, it would be earl grey.”
    I watched Logan’s face go through a few stages, from confusion to contemplation, before it ended on hurt. I could tell because he wouldn’t look at me—that was always the dead giveaway that I’d hurt him.
    “I’m sorry,” I said as he set the mug down on his nightstand, looking dejected. “I could have said that in a nicer way.”
    “It’s okay,” Logan said, leaning his head back and staring at his ceiling where the glow in the dark stars we’d stuck up there in third grade still were.
    “Then why won’t you look at me?”
    His gaze drifted down to mine. “I’m not upset because you just told me you don’t like tea,” he said. “I’m upset because you haven’t told me until now. Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t like it years ago?”
     Because I was in need of some serious psychiatric help.
    “Why didn’t you ask?” I replied.
    Logan’s eyebrows came together. “I . . .well . . . I guess I just . . .” His eyes drifted from the cup of tea to me a few times before his face relaxed. “I’m sorry, Elle. I guess I just assumed you liked it.”
    I softened right away. “I didn’t exactly give you any reason not to assume I didn’t.”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “Really.” I placed my hand over his. “It’s all right. It might have taken us a couple years to figure it out, but now you know I. Don’t. Like. Tea.”
    “Got it,” he said, smiling as he tapped his temple. “What do you like then?”
    I had to remind myself he was only asking about beverages.
    “Coffee,” I said, feeling weight fall off my shoulders. “With a little bit of milk and one raw sugar.”
    Logan nodded as he studied our entwined hands. He turned mine over, seeming to inspect every line and freckle, until he lifted it to his mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss into the backside of my hand, letting his mouth linger there for a bit longer than normal. So long, my heartbeat started to pick up.
    “I’ll be right back,” he said, setting my hand down before hopping out of bed.
    As soon as I heard Logan’s footsteps thumping down the stairs, I lifted my hand above me. I turned it over and stared at the patch of skin Logan’s mouth had just touched. My heart still pounded from that kiss. I hadn’t expected that. The intimate kiss or the way my body had reacted to it.
    I’d never felt the level of desire I’d experienced last