Chapter 24

Hannah

Logan: Did you eat yet?

Me: No.

Logan: Be ready in an hour. I’m taking you out for dinner.

Cue the biggest, goofiest smile on my face and I can honestly say I’m not a twenty-two-year-old professional. No. I’m back in high school, and the super-hot captain of the football team asked me out on a date.

After fifteen minutes of sitting on the couch, weighing the possibilities of what’ll happen after dinner, I jump up and rush to my bedroom to find a cute outfit. Thankfully I had a wax appointment a few days ago so I’m ready… just in case we do have sex again tonight.

I go directly to my dresses and nothing’s standing out. There's nothing that would wow him. I'm looking at the different options and give up after going through my dresses twice. Out of the twenty I have, I don't think any would do.

Why the hell is it so hard to be a woman? It takes men literally minutes to get ready and they walk out looking sexy as sin, while most women take forever. It’s a process to get ready. We have to pick out the right outfit and then coordinate our makeup, hair, any accessories, and most importantly shoes. Then we have to make sure our bra and panty are matching. It's a sophisticated equation and must be done, especially on the first date.

Since I'm not finding anything in my closet I stroll over to Eden's room and raid her closet. She's gone for the weekend so she won't notice I'm taking one of her dresses. It's not like she'd care either. I'm thumbing through her dresses and find one that stands out. It's an off the shoulder dark green dress that I've had my eyes on for a while. I'll have to remember to take this to the dry cleaners tomorrow.

I strip out of my clothes and take a thirty second shower to freshen up. I'm going through my drawer and find a black thong with a strapless black push up bra.

"This will do," I mutter and put it on, taking a look in the mirror, running my hands down my body and closing my eyes, imagining his hands. His lips. His tongue.

Oh boy.

As soon as I have the dress on, I put on my tan wedges and do a quick check to make sure everything looks good.

“What am I doing?” I sigh and plop on my bed, spreading my arms out and looking at the ceiling. “Stop being such a girl.”

A knock on my front door prompts me get up and peek through my bedroom window. Holy shit. He’s here. He came into my apartment complex, and up to the door. My nerves are ridiculous. I fan under my arms and let out slow breaths. It's just a date with a man who makes me weak in the knees and my heart race. No biggie. At all.

After a few moments, I take a few more calming breaths and reach for the doorknob to open it. He’s standing before me with his hands in his jeans pocket, and my goodness. Logan’s wearing a black button-down shirt and his hair is full and wavy. He takes a moment to drink me in the way I'm drinking him in. There's a burning warmth in his caramel eyes as he starts at my eyes and slowly moves down to my plump lips, my neck, my breasts, down my body, to my legs, and finally back up to my eyes.

“Wow. You look beautiful.”

I blush and run my fingers down his shirt. “You don’t look bad yourself, handsome.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

We get to the restaurant, Next Door Bar and Grill, and are seated in the back corner booth.

“How long have you been working for your dad?”

“Since my senior year in college. I interned in the marketing department and learned from a man named, Roger. He was with the company for over thirty years and managed the department for ten before retiring. Between the two business gurus, I developed my own sense of how to manage, and after graduation, I created different campaigns and attracted multi-million-dollar firms to work with us.”

“Really?” I didn’t mean to sound surprised. I’ve never seen Logan work. When I’m in meetings, he’s never involved. Initially, I thought he was a spoiled trust-fund baby with means to endless money.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” The amusement in his tone lets me know he’s not offended.

“I’m sorry.” I laugh and turn my body a little so we’re facing each other. “You impress me, Mr. Davis.”

“As you do, too, Ms. Harris.”

The restaurant we’re in is chic with a contemporary, New York City vibe. Our drinks are brought to the table. I’m having a dirty martini and Logan’s drinking a beer.

“Your turn. Tell me more about yourself.”

“Not much to tell.” I laugh. “You already know a lot about me.”

“And I'd like to know more.”

I tap my finger on my chin. “Hmm, well, I hate wasting the day and waking up late. That's why I don't drink too much, because hangovers suck. Ever since Michael died, I appreciate life more. We're not promised tomorrow, so we have to live the fullest of each day.”

He nods. “You're right.”

We talk about everything that comes to mind. Our hobbies, favorite foods, my dream to go to Paris, his dream to see the Northern Lights, and we both agree red velvet cake is the best dessert. Our conversation is effortless and we swiftly move from one topic to the next.

I'm so comfortable with him. It's nice to see him smile, laugh, and be carefree. Right now, I'm looking at Logan, not my boss's son, but a man with so many hopes and dreams. The way his eyes make me loose myself. The way he drives me crazy with his touch… his voice… his smile.

"I wanna know more about you. Do you think you'll let me in?"