Jodie’s cheeks were on fire as she returned to the table with her mother. No one saw what she and Logan were up to, but she swore it was written all over her face.

Duke watched her with a kind expression. “Are you all right?”

“I’m better, thank you.” Did she strike that balance between polite and not over-the-top?

“Good.” His smile said he believed her.

Logan returned a few minutes later. “There you are.” He sounded surprised to see her. “I was looking for you. To apologize.”

No one is buying this. She’d play along anyway. “You found me. I’m better. Thank you.” Great. Now she was repeating herself.

As dinner went on, no new arguments surfaced. It would take a lot of work on her part to make things happen otherwise, since she and Logan never spoke to each other directly. Hallway promises and a dirty-bad-but-oh-so-good bathroom make-out session didn’t mean much, when they had to appear aloof in public.

What did she expect? It wasn’t like he promised her forever, just that he’d be nicer. She didn’t want that. Though would a little more definition around their relationship be such a bad thing? It would be after his reaction to her being pregnant. But he apologized for that tonight, too.

She tried to be subtle about watching him interact with their parents. Smiling, intelligent, and even funny. He caught her gaze and winked, before turning back to the conversation.

Her heart skipped. Not fair. If she thought about it, the two of them had more up times than down since she arrived at Stanford.

But those low points hurt as much as ever. More, now that they’d screwed. And God help her, fucking him was amazing, and she’d have a hard time denying as much if he asked her.

As they finished dinner and said their goodnights, she was only half-involved in the conversation. Her mind was stuck in a circular argument about Logan. The sex was incredible, the good times were better, and the bad times sucked ass. And none of it mattered, because nothing else had changed. He was going to be nicer. And proved it by feeling her up in a bathroom stall.

As she sank into her car and silence enveloped her, she bit back a scream of frustration. She could go home, put in her earbuds, and drown out the world. She didn’t care if Noah brought someone home. It would be a distraction, to pull her out of her own head.

When she arrived at her apartment, the first thing she did was lose the dress and change into her comfiest PJ bottoms and a tank top. Noah was in his room with the door closed, and no noise coming out. Odd for this time on a Saturday night—usually he’d be at the bar right now—but she’d take it. Maybe she’d watch a movie. Something loud with lots of explosions and no romance at all. Why should fictional characters find happiness if she couldn’t reason out her own?

As Jodie was settling on the couch, someone rang the bell. She answered, and her stomach dropped into her shoes. Logan stood on the other side, still in his suit and tie from dinner. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good. She kept the reaction off her face and forced indifference through her veins. “Noah’s in his room.”

“I’m looking for you.” Logan stepped inside and shut the door. “And fuck, you look amazing.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs. Why does it matter? Because it did. “If you want to finish what we started in that bathroom stall, the mood is lost.”

“I deserve that.” He gave her a weak smile. “And I am here to prove I was sincere earlier, but not that way. I have to tell you something else.”

“I’m listening.”

He searched her face, and her pulse raced at a gallop, betraying her desire to stay removed from the situation. “Are you?” he asked.

She dialed down the apathy. “Yes. I promise.” If this was going to be another it was a one-time thing conversation, they might as well get it over with. And if he had the nerve to say something like, we can still screw, but can’t tell anyone, she didn’t have a problem shoving him out the door and slamming it behind him.

Despite her resolve, both options dug deep, leaving an empty gouge inside.

“I love you,” Logan said.

Jodie’s heart ground to a stop, then kick-started at a painful rate. “Beg pardon?”

He let out a tiny laugh. “That’s fair. I love you, Jodie. I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way. Months. Longer. And I know I haven’t given you much reason to feel the same, and that’s okay. This isn’t one of those things where I say it, and you don’t want to say it back, and our lives fall apart with awkwardness. All I’m asking for—and you don’t have to say yes—is the chance to prove I mean it.

“This isn’t even contingent on the child. Whatever you do with that, I support you. Whether we’re together or not, I’ll help you out however I can. I think you’ll be an amazing mom.”

Happiness and confusion blurred inside and pricked at her eyelids with tears. She blinked back the wash of muddy emotion. The confession made her heart skip in a way she didn’t expect. At the same time, he was right; she wasn’t ready to return a commitment like I love you. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

He jammed his hands in his pockets. That made things worse. Sheepish Logan was as handsome as confident Logan. “How about I stay tonight? To talk. At least say you won’t shut me out of your life—your lives.”

“I can’t imagine doing that.” The confession slipped out without her permission. “Shutting you out, I mean. Yes to the staying. For a little while, anyway.” She nodded at the couch. If they stayed out here, it would be easier to keep things friendly. To remember she couldn’t dive into something too quickly.

He sat down and grabbed her hand. Desire jolted through her. When he pulled her to sit next to him, and her thigh pressed against his, heat raced over her skin, raising the tiny hairs on the back of her arms.

“I want to know what comes next.” He held her gaze, sincerity in his eyes. “I’m not talking about me. For you. For the baby. What do you want for your future?”

This was one of the things she lo—liked about spending time with Logan. When he wasn’t pushing her away, as he put it, he had a knack for homing in on what she wanted. What she needed to hear.

His question further soothed her doubts. Maybe he was only asking to be polite, but the look on his face and the kind tone of his voice said he meant it.

“Overall, my goal is still the same, but with a new addition. I’m still pursuing the internship. My master’s. A career in transplant research. But more important, making sure this child,” she patted her stomach, “has whatever they need to grow up happy, healthy, and educated.”

“I wouldn’t anticipate any less.”

The conversation shifted from there, hopping from how he could help with childcare, her plans for finishing school, and a rainbow of topics about her future. She hesitated to answer a few times, worried she was boring him, but Logan pushed for answers, and she didn’t doubt he was listening.

And then she reached the end of what she had to share. “If you’re staying—you are staying, right?—I was about to watch a movie.”

He grabbed the remote. “What are we watching?”

She appreciated the easy change from the serious topic to more casual. If she was going to head into a relationship with him, she wanted it to be an extension of the good things they already shared. Not a façade put in place, pretending they were something they weren’t. “I hadn’t decided yet.”

“Massive guns and has-been action stars or really fast cars?”

She smiled and leaned into him. Part of her wanted to analyze every detail, but that wasn’t going to work for her, either. This felt right. “The fast cars.”

“You sure? Those has-beens can still kick ass.”

“But the racecar drivers are sexier.” She glanced up, to find him watching her with raised brows. “Jealous?” she asked.

He flipped the TV on and pulled up a Fast and Furious movie. “I suppose the ultra-cocky answer would be of course not, but yeah. Though, as long as none of them come knocking in the next few days or weeks, I have time to seal my place in your heart.”

“Damn.” She couldn’t keep the teasing from her voice. “And I was going to have Vin Diesel over for dinner tomorrow. He’ll be so disappointed.”

Logan placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “He should be.” His voice held a gravelly undercurrent. “I can’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

The words and the sincerity in his eyes drilled deep. How could a simple statement feel more intimate than his hands roaming her body? The question summoned a wave of memories—his tongue tracing her skin, his fingers dancing along her flesh… Not that she’d trade those for sweet words. She wanted both. But not tonight.

“Fast cars it is.” She grabbed the remote from Logan and hit Play. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he slid his hand under hers, to intertwine their fingers. A little physical would be all right.