Page 9 of His Dad Will Do
My phone buzzes again, and again. Logan lifts me off his lap with as much ease as if I were actually a little boy and digs through my clothes strewn around the floor until he finds my phone, then hands it to me. “Text your friend, baby, and tell them you’re safe. I’m going to clean up and turn the kitchen lights out. Come upstairs when you’re ready.”
I open Chloe’s message.
you okay, dude?
Chloe doesn’t bother with capitalization in texts.
when are you coming home?
Chloe’s apartment isn’t my home—I don’t have a home anymore—but I love her for welcoming me into hers.
Staying out.
I tap back with my thumbs.
Three dots appear while she’s tapping out her reply, then disappear, then reappear. I give her a minute, because she knows that Lance is the only guy I’ve slept with after sex. Fucking or sucking cock is one thing, but actually sleeping together is way more intimate.
While I’m waiting for her reply, I should pick up my clothes that are strewn all around the living room, but before I can haul my ass off the sofa, Logan’s back from the kitchen and already doing it.
are you sure? i’m all for a good rebound fuck, but is staying the night with a stranger a good idea?
Logan is anything but a stranger, but Chloe doesn’t know that. There’s another three dots, but I reply before she sends her next message.
I’m fine.
I type back.
He’s not a stranger. He’s…
I glance at Logan, currently folding my jeans over his arm, and picking up my mesh shirt, his come-covered T-shirt, and my socks and underwear. He catches my eye, jerks a thumb in the direction of the stairs to the lower level, and mouths laundry at me. I nod and look back at my phone.
He’s what? A friend? Family? Shit, I don’t know what Logan is to me now. And I’m suddenly too tired to think about it anymore.
It’s complicated.
I text Chloe.
But I’m safe, I swear.
I’ll call you tomorrow.
you better.
or i’m tracking your location and coming to get you.
I send a heart emoji to her and she sends one back to me. I turn my phone screen off and find Logan in the laundry room downstairs.
He’s got the washer started and is standing in front of it, one hand on the closed lid and the other threaded through his hair. He looks lost in thought and I wonder if he regrets asking me to stay.
But then he turns and sees me hovering in the doorway, and he smiles wide enough that his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Shower first, then bed.” His voice is firm, but I know I can refuse. I can leave if I want, or crash on the sofa, or hell, he’d probably let me stay over in Lance’s room, if I asked.
Logan would never force me to do anything I don’t want to do. I know that with a hundred percent certainty. But he comes to me, puts his hands on my shoulders, and turns me so that I’m facing out of the laundry room. Toward the stairs to the main level and the next set of stairs to the top floor. To his bedroom.
He gives a gentle push at the middle of my back and my feet start moving. I don’t have to make a decision. All I need to do right now is what Logan tells me to do. And that feels as good as the mind-blowing orgasms he’s given me.
Six
Logan
