Page 85 of The Comeback

I grabbed the front of his hoodie and pulled him closer. He made a startled sound against my mouth—a half-laugh, half-groan—and then his hands were everywhere. Dragging me back. Pulling me onto his lap as he fell back on the futon.

I nipped his lower lip, running my hands through his hair, wishing I could magically transport us back to his condo because whatever we could do on the other side of this door, it was not going to be enough.

Logan’s hands slipped up the back of my shirt, and he smiled. “Three clasps?”

“Comfort bra. I didn’t know you were coming.”

He laughed, toying with it until I slapped his hands away. “My parents are out there.”

“Does this door have a lock?” He picked me up and set me on the cushion, ignoring my protests, and just as he reached for the handle, the door to the den flew open.

Logan jumped back as the overhead light flashed on.

My dad stood in the doorway. “Huh. Why’d you have the lights off?”

I blinked, waiting for it to click in.

My dad, completely oblivious, grinned at Logan. “How about this weekend. Quite the comeback, eh?”

He was talking about the game against Toronto. Connor had filled us all in on Logan’s shootout goal in overtime.

Logan glanced at me before turning back to my dad. He coughed a laugh. “You have no idea.”