London

From the stands, I watch him break every record he has set in all the previous years and a realization sets in—I’m not wrong about my feelings for him. I did the smart thing by going home to help bake pies in preparation for Thanksgiving and missing the after party.

I did it for two reasons. The first because I love our traditions. And the second because I need my family to draw strength from. Strength to remind myself that I am important, and that I need to stay grounded to continue working toward my dreams. Strength to remind myself their love surrounds and protects me, even from myself. And strength to remind myself that I am in fact strong because of them, and it’s not selfish or childish to need or admit that.

When Piper asked me where Logan was, and before I could wrap my brain around why she would associate him and I, she placed her hand on my heart and said, “He’s wight hewe.” I then realized I also came home for that moment, that realization that I need the strength to be vulnerable.

When I left his truck that night, I did so knowing he has a very long road ahead of himself.

I sent a message ending in the word” player,” and he didn’t reply. It was wrong. It was out of hurt and my selfish and childish ways. It was like saying to a blind man, “I see you. Why can’t you?” But I do. I see him. I see in him what he doesn’t. I always have.

The desire to protect myself has resulted in the building and tearing down of the wall around my heart my entire first semester of college. In doing that, I have missed the opportunity to be vulnerable. I thought I may have even missed the opportunity to have the man of my dreams be my first kiss.

I take a deep breath while looking in the mirror. I look stage ready. My hair is blown out straight, my makeup is done yet looks perfectly natural, and I am dressed in a top that actually doesn’t hide what cleavage I have or is part of my normal everyday street to stage look.

I walk out of the bathroom to my waiting friends who I have now admitted to that I am very interested in Logan Links, and they all smile.

On the ride to Friends-Giving, I am not nervous. I am empowered with the realization that it doesn’t matter if my heart gets broken. It only matters that I live.

I look next to me and know without a doubt that, not only do I have a family who has and will always pick me up when I am down, but friends who hide the fact that some twisted bitch was putting posters on our door so I wouldn’t hurt.

I am not alone.

---

When we walk in, we are all carrying the pies I made at home. The room is full, but not like it was when I was here last.

I see Keeka and am instantly reminded there is something about her that I can’t let go of. I want to be her friend, and I will be.

We exchange smiles, and then I force myself to look away because there is a harsh reality I have come to terms with—that I am able to make things very awkward at times.

I scan the room for Logan and see him standing with his back to us, leaning against the kitchen counter.

I walk up and set my pie directly behind him, ensuring it’s loud enough to grab his attention. When he turns around, I do, too, at the same time, guaranteeing that, when I remove my overcoat, he sees the knee length skirt that hugs my body.

After I take off my coat, I bend to remove my boots. I do it slowly and with intent.

When I hear grumbling behind me, I stand and turn around. Logan is still at the counter, and several of his teammates are behind him, all trying to hide their amusement at whatever outburst I may have caused, that he is trying so hard to mask, that I will be sure to get details of from my friends later.

Pulling from not only my secret desires, but my arsenal of acting abilities, knowing damn well this will get the reaction I crave, I point to the pie. “I brought you pie.”

I have to suck in my cheeks to stop from smiling when his jaw drops and he grips the counter, all while shooting daggers at the snickers and comments under his teammates breaths.

He cocks his head to the side then rights it quickly, hiding whatever it is he’s thinking and feeling right now.

“Looks okay,” he says, trying to sound unaffected, but with no white hat to pull down, I see the steam rising from those blue oceans.

“I haven’t tasted it yet, but I’m sure it’s going to be amazing. Best pie ever.”

Again, the guys react, and his grip tightens on the counter.

“It’s actually the very first time that I—”

“You got a fucking minute?” he asks as he comes around the counter, grabs my elbow, and drags me behind him as everyone laughs.

Once in his room, he lets go and steps back.

“What the fuck is this?” He waves his hand up and down, motioning to my attire.

I shrug and sigh to add dramatic effect. “Just pulled it out of my closet.”

“You’re full of shit, London. You did this to—” He stops when I put one hand on each side of his cheeks. “What are you doing?”

“Tell me I look pretty.”

He looks shocked.

I lean in, push up on my tiptoes, press my face against his, and whisper in his ear, “Tell me.”

His breaths become deeper and harsher. “You know damn well you do.”

I grab his earlobe between my teeth and tug gently before kissing just under it. “Tell me.”

“You look too good to be here with all those fuckers.”

I take his hand that is balled at his side and pull it to my hip. “Logan, tell me.” I run my tongue down his neck, and he groans.

“You look sexy.”

“You, too.” I kiss his neck softly then pull back and look up at him.

His eyes cast up, avoiding mine, and he grips my hip. “What are you trying to do here, London?”

His mouth is gapping slightly as he tries to even out his breaths. I take the opportunity to hook my finger in his mouth and pull down so he has to look at me.

“I’m sick of trying to protect myself against you.”

He closes his eyes and sucks lightly on my finger, making heat resonate everywhere.

When I push my painfully erect nipples against him, he opens his eyes.

“I was so pissed at you the other night,” he growls.

I put my hand over his mouth. “You were pissed at yourself.”

He immediately scowls, and I take one of his hands and run it up my body, stopping just below my breast.

“London...” he warns.

“I need to figure out a lot of things, Logan, and so do you. But it was really, really cold the other night, and I tried every blanket I had to warm me, comfort me, soothe me, and nothing worked. Then I thought, it’s cuddle season.” I take his other hand and move it down until it rests very low on my lower back.

“Jesus L...fuck.”

I push his flannel to the side, untuck his tee-shirt, and put my hands on his hot, hard abs. “Then I thought about how warm you are.” I slowly move my hands up his abs. “And I thought how you said things are quieter with me.”

“Well, right now, they’re harder,” he hisses between his teeth.

I cover his mouth with one hand while moving the other up a little farther. “I need you to be my friend, Logan, but I want to be able to do this, too. I don’t want the entire campus watching me or you, and I don’t want you to need anyone else but me.” I uncover his mouth and press my forehead to his chest, hiding a bit when I say the next part. “I’ve come up with a plan, with conditions. If you can promise me that you won’t need anyone else while you’re here for the rest of this semester, I can promise you I won’t overthink it and that I don’t need a label, or a commitment, I just need to put some limitations and—”

“London.” He tips my chin up. “It goes against every natural, male instinct while fully and painfully erect to be one hundred percent honest, but I’m going to do my best.”

I nod.

“I have no fucking clue what I’m going to be doing when I’m done, and if I were you, I would not offer up something like that to me.” He clenches his eyes shut and scolds himself. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Love is unconditional,” I sigh. His eyes pop open and he looks horrified. “I’ve come up with some conditions that makes this okay.”

Before I can say anything, he continues.

“I will promise that I won’t touch another, because I am going to explore every fucking inch of you to an almost indecent precision.”

I nod. “First condition, you gotta take it slow with me.”

“Oh, baby, it’s going to be so slow you’re going to throw one of those little fits because you want my cock so bad.”

“Logan?”

“Yeah?” he asks with his lips at my neck.

“The next condition is, we need to make a promise that we don’t fall in love, that we are honest with each other, and this doesn’t end badly. I need you in my life.”

“I promise.”

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

I grab his face between my hands and pull him away from my neck. “Kiss me.”

“You’re sure?”

“It has to be you.”

His puts his hands on my face, and my hands drop. “You’re damn right it does.”

I close my eyes and try to remain calm, because this is the moment I have waited for my entire life. This is the moment I have dreamt of, fantasized about, and with the man I have wanted it to be, always.

“London.”

I open my eyes as he pushes his forehead to mine.

“I need you to do something for me first, and this is a deal breaker.”

I nod.

“You need to ask yourself a question.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want your first kiss to end with murder and mayhem?”

“What?” I choke out a shocked laugh.

“Do you?”

“No,” I smile.

“I didn’t think so.” He lets go of me, walks to the door, and opens it.

“What are you doing?” Now I laugh because I’m embarrassed.

He walks out and says, “Whatever you want to wear in my closet is good.”

I walk out and look at him. All eyes are on me, including his.

“Condition three, unless you want this to end horribly, I’m dead serious.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t get to tell me how to dress.”

“You said you didn’t want anyone to die, so if you choose to come out here and they choose to look at you, and this first year of Friends-Giving ends in a bloodbath, it’s all on you.”

I watch as he walks over and snatches the pie off the counter, taking it to the refrigerator. “You fuckers touch this, you lose a hand.”

“You can’t lord over me!” I yell at him.

“You want to be treated like a lady, you need to give a little.”

I am prepared to be pissed, until I hear all the aws from my friends.

The guys mutter things about him being whipped, and he snarls, “So?”

He sits on a barstool, arms crossed over his chest. “You have two minutes, then I’m coming in.”

Standing in his room, I decide to change. I mean, he did say give a little, so I am. I am wearing a long-sleeved SU tee that hits below my knees, and just to prove a point, I’m in a pair of his football pants.

I notice all the posters hanging on the wall that weren’t there before. All movie posters, all military movies. The biggest one is in a frame. It’s from a movie called American Snipper. I know I have heard of it, but I don’t remember what it’s about.

When he walks in, he immediately starts laughing.

I look at him and smile.

“You look pretty.” He says the words I nearly had to beg him to say and laughs a real laugh, the kind that reminds me of how he is with family.

Family.

“I have another condition,” I say as he shuts the door.

“Anything.”

“This stays here, between us. It doesn’t need to go viral in hometown. Too many people could be affected, and as much as I am going to need your lips after this, I prefer them to be right where they are. We made an agreement; they didn’t.”

He looks at me for a minute and sighs. “They’re going to be able to see how much you want me.”

“I’m an actress, Logan. I can make it work.”

He rubs his cheek. “It’s a condition?”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” He extends his hand for me to shake. When I shake his, though, he pulls me in hard and I crash into him. He then puts his hand on my ass and pulls me in harder against him. I feel all of him against me.

“Oh, my God.”

“You feel this?” he asks, fisting my hair and pulling it back so I’m looking up at him.

“Yeah,” I whimper.

“You’re not the only one who can hide shit.” He leans down and licks behind my ear. “They didn’t see it.”

“How?” I whimper as he rotates his hips, grinding against me.

“It finds a leg.” He grips my ass hard then lifts me. I wrap my legs around him as he pushes me against the wall.

The poster behind me falls. I catch the corner and look up. There’s a big hole behind it.

“Logan, what’s this?”

“Had a few bad weeks,” he says before grinding into me and licking up my neck.

I grab the back of his head and pull it closer.

Hearing the framed poster fall to the ground, I turn, but he captures the side of my head and slides his open mouth up my jaw.

I whimper and press my breasts against him. He pulls me away from the wall as he sucks on my neck then sits on the end of his bed, bringing me down on top of him.

Heat turns to fire. I can’t help grinding against him.

“Fuck, London,” he hisses and pulls me tighter, flipping me onto my back and hovering over me. “You wanna take this slow, you let me lead. You keep grinding on me, you leave me no choice but to give you what we both want.”

“Kiss me, dammit.”

He presses his body against mine, his elbows on the mattress, and grabs my face. I am panting, squirming beneath him.

He pulls me up and, within seconds, I am shirtless. With no time to panic, he lays me back down, and only then do I realize he has unhooked my bra, as well.

His lips fall just above my breasts, where he kisses up. His lips feel so soft against my skin, but the pressure he applies is that of need, want, and almost uncontrollable hunger. When he reaches my chin, I swipe my tongue across my lips to wet them, and he catches it in his mouth, sucking on it slowly.

A hum vibrates from his chest. No, mine. No, both. Then he rubs his tongue up and down mine. I open my mouth farther, wanting, needing, imploring him to taste me deeper, and he does.

He licks inside my mouth while holding my head, angling it so he can get deeper. I swear he’s fucking it, and I know this spinning in my belly, the heat, the electricity, the pulsing everywhere is exactly what I imagined it would be, only better.

When he slows down, I am trembling and can’t stop myself from grabbing his face and pulling him harder against me. I don’t want it to stop or slow down, but his fingers are tangled in my hair and his strong tongue overpowers my needy one as he slows the pace.

He kisses me differently now. No tongue, all lips and sucking, all slower. For a moment, I fear the end, but he doesn’t stop, and it’s just as amazing.

He sucks on my lower lip, and I trace his with my tongue, making him moan and shift until I feel his hard length against me.

The kisses change again, slower but deeper. He rubs his tongue up and down mine and groans as he shifts above me, hitting me there and making me whimper. He doesn’t stop, and now my hands are on his shoulders, pulling him closer, running down his arms, to his waist, to his ass. God, his ass is glorious and so hard, just like every part of him.

Now he’s licking the roof of my mouth, my tongue, my lips. It doesn’t stop. I am so glad it doesn’t stop. The slower it gets, the more I know it’s going to end. I don’t want it to.

My whole body is alien to me in the most magnificent way. It tingles and sparks. It’s how I imagined sex will be, yet it’s a kiss. It feels like he’s fucking me with just a kiss.

When I can’t breathe anymore, he kisses down my neck again, stopping at the top of my breasts. The weight of his entire body lays on me, his head against my chest as he rubs his hand slowly up and down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He sighs. “Fuck.”

“Mmmhmm,” is all I can get out.

I put my hand on his head and lightly scrape my nails on his scalp.

Panting, we lie still. I feel his heart beating against my body, and I feel as it slows.

“Christ, London,” he moans as he pushes himself up, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Christ, Logan,” I say, closing my eyes tightly and trying to make sure this ridiculous smile doesn’t break my face open.

When he gets up, he leans down and kisses me softly on the lips.

I catch his lip between my teeth. “Don’t stop.”

I see the smile in his eyes as he says, “Believe me, I don’t want to, but it’s Friends-Giving, and since I planned this just to lure you here, I better make sure we actually feed those bozos.”

I sit up, holding my bra against my body. “You did what?”

“Oh yeah.” He winks, and the dimples do, too. “Fucking genius.”

I laugh. “You’re lying.”

“Nope.” He bends down and pops a kiss onto my head.

“Get that shirt fixed before I fuck your tits like I did your mouth.”

With that, he’s out the door and all I can think is, I hope it found a leg.

I palm my face and flop back on Logan Links, my first kiss’s, bed. Then I do a celebratory kicking and flaying dance before I force myself to get up.

I reach back and hook my bra, wondering why he unhooked it in the first place, then grab his shirt, throw it on, and stand up.

My eyes immediately go to the wall where a fist-sized hole stares at me, taunting me to question what I’m doing.

“Nope, you are living in the moment,” I tell myself as I pick up the poster and hang it back up.

When I walk out, all eyes are on me, and Jamie hurries toward me, takes my hand, and leads me back into the room.

“What?”

“Your hair.” She laughs, pulling me into the bathroom.

I look in the mirror and smile. “You don’t like it?”

We laugh as we try to smooth it out.

“So, did you?”

“No, but I think that maybe.”

“Make him work for it.” She smiles at me in the mirror, still trying to make sense of my hair.

“How long did you make Mitch wait?”

“Oh, sweetheart, he’s still waiting.”

“Really?”

She giggles. “Yeah, but everything else happens on the regular.” She stands back and looks at me. “Girl, you are so fucked. How did this happen?”

“I got an idea.” I walk out past her and grab one of the hats on his dresser.

“Pull your hair through the back,” she suggests.

When we walk out again, all eyes go to me, and mine go to the three tables that have replaced the couch.

In an effort to break the uncomfortable silence, I point to them. “Wow, the tables look great.”

“Looked great when you walked in, too.” Tank snickers.

“Like she noticed,” Downs adds.

“Mind your fucking business,” comes from behind them. “And move your asses.”

They move aside as Logan carries a turkey out on a platter.

I smile. “Wow, that’s a beautiful bird.”

“That’s what she said,” comes from one of the many guys in the room.

Logan walks by me, stops, leans over, and kisses my cheek. “You look pretty.”

“She looked better before,” comes from amidst the crowd, and he stiffens.

“I feel pretty,” I tell him, holding his shirt out and swaying before curtsying. It makes him relax and smile, which was my intention.

“Links kissed a girl.” Mitch pats his back. “I’m proud of you, man.”

“He’s kissed plenty of girls.” Jamie laughs. “His dick’s on yelp, with reviews.”

Logan glances at her and shakes his head like she’s joking.

“It’s true,” Christy adds. “There’s even a pic.”

“Bullshit.” He laughs. “No one’s ever gotten a dick pic from me.” He looks at me, clearly trying to gage the level of annoyance their comments bring me. When I don’t say anything, he says, “They’re fucking with you.”

“No, they aren’t. I saw your name, the reviews—”

“But she wouldn’t look at the picture,” Lisa adds.

“I think you need to leash your girls,” Logan tells me. “My guys ain’t saying shit. Give me the same courtesy?”

“If they were talking shit, I might consider it, but your dick is really on Yelp.” I laugh.

He’s waiting for me to say more. Maybe he thinks it’s a joke.

“It’s mine!” Downs holds up his phone.

Logan balls his fists and hisses, “With a pic?”

Downs scrolls through and starts laughing. “Yep, you got a donkey dick, man.”

Logan looks at me. “You see it?”

“She’s a virgin and still here, I’m thinking no.” Schooler chuckles.

“You fucking watch the way you talk to her,” Logan snaps at him.

“Logan?”

He looks at me, shaking his head.

“I appreciate that you’re trying to defend my honor, and I forgive you for being an ass that night, okay? But honestly, I don’t care that I haven’t put out to some immature, man-boy who likes to look at other men’s junk and makes up pet names for it.”

Logan’s lips quirk up in the corner, and his eyes look less angry.

“Clearly, she hasn’t seen the picture.” Schooler laughs.

Logan storms over to him and snatches his phone.

“Don’t fucking break it, man. I just got the damn thing.”

Logan looks at the screen and sucks in his cheeks, trying not to smile.

“Good angle?” I ask.

“You gotta see this.” He starts walking over to me.

I hold up my hand. “No thanks.”

He laughs. “No, you really need to.”

“I was never one to peek before Christmas. And when I have seen gifts accidentally, I make my mom return them. Do you want me to see it still?”

“Yeah, I do.” Logan smiles as he walks closer.

“I don’t want to,” I whisper.

He winks. “Just look.”

When I look at the screen, I see a literal donkey with a huge peen and laugh.

“Mine’s bigger.” He winks again, and my jaw drops.

---

After dinner, we all help clean up. Logan still refuses to share his pie.

The guys move the furniture around, and the girls do absolutely nothing.

When everyone is gone, Logan asks me to stay and watch a movie.

I look at my girls, and he tells me Jamie is staying, and they are welcome, too.

So, we do.

When the guys walk in, I see Jones, the guy who Logan popped in the nose, pull him to the side.

“Everything okay?” I ask as I walk past them to head to the bathroom.

“Yeah, it’s all good,” Jones answers.

Looking in the mirror, I take off the hat and try to fix my awful hat hair, and although I am not eavesdropping, I hear them.

“Wanted to say thanks,” Jones says.

“For what?” Logan replies coolly.

“For telling Stevens with the Giants, that I’m one he should watch the other day after the game.”

“I think you are.” Logan acts like it’s no big deal.

“You didn’t have to do that. I just want you to know I appreciate it.”

“Your love for the game is obvious. Your talent is, too.”

“But we aren’t friends. Hell, we’ve been enemies.”

“We’re a team out there, Jones.”

“Well, shit works out, you’ll be team for life.”

Logan laughs. “Shit works out, you’ll see me rooting for the Cowboys in Giants’ stadium.”

“That’s fucked up, man.” Jones laughs.

“You’re gonna do well, Jones. Really well. Just don’t get too cocky.”

I will not fall in love with Logan Links, I will not fall in love with Logan Links, I will not fall in love with Logan Links, I repeat as I commence swooning.

When I walk back out, Logan is sitting in the corner of one of the couches, one leg stretched on the back, the other foot on the ground. He pats the spot between his legs, and oddly, I don’t feel weird about sitting there.

When he pulls the hat off and sets it on the back of the couch, well, I worry I look like hell, but he runs his hands through my hair a few times, grabs it, pulls it back, and kisses me.

“I like this kissing thing we got going on.” He kisses me again, and when I seek a third, he winks and kisses my nose. He then pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers me, then pulls me closer. I feel the effects of the kiss.

I look up at him, and he sighs.

“Thanksgiving is gonna be rough.”

“I think we’re having Thanksgiving with my mom’s parents this year.”

“Why?”

“We alternate years. The only time they come to the big one is on our rotation.”

He nods.

Each year, we rotate houses. This year it’s at Jade’s and Ryan’s.

“We’ll see each other still, right?”

He chuckles. “We better.”