5. Daphne
5
DAPHNE
“Wowsers,” I whisper. I’m surprised my phone didn’t spontaneously combust from Logan’s picture. Damn, he’s fine. He was texting from bed, and his chest was bare.
“The man should never wear shirts. It would be a crime to cover something so glorious.” I steal his shirts as a public service, not because I miss him and can pretend he’s holding me while I sleep.
Soooo many muscles. Is it physically possible he has a twelve-pack of abs? His muscles have muscles. Shifters are typically more muscular and agile than regular humans, and wow, his shifter genes are glorious things. No regular human would get so ripped taking pictures. I’ve never seen him in eagle form, but I’m sure he’s gorgeous when he’s shifted too. I know I’m not ugly, but I’m just normal . Why would someone so extraordinary want someone like me for anything other than friendship? Oh, that’s right—he doesn’t.
White sheets pool around his waist. He has a light dusting of hair on his pecs, and his brown happy trail disappears below the sheet. I try to scroll to see more, but the picture stops right below the sheet’s edge. Darn.
He has his left arm tucked behind his head and his right arm extended to hold his phone up to take the snap. He’s smiling, and his dark brown hair looks like a lover’s fingers tousled it. Does he have a lover? We never discuss that sort of thing. It’s not like we can swap stories. I have nothing to tell. The few dates I went on in high school and college were nothing serious. Nothing more than a couple of chaste kisses and sometimes not even that. I’m not sexy. I’m the girl next door. I’m the buddy. The pal. Whatever.
Logan is sexy, though. I bet he has women hitting on him all the time. Does he take them up on it? What’s his type? Does he only go for shifter girls, or does he date humans too? He dated in college, but they were flings, not relationships. He wasn’t a man-whore, but I’m sure he wasn’t a monk either. He kept his extracurricular activities separate from our friendship.
I love being his friend, but I wish he saw me as a woman. I always thought Logan was attractive, but as I got to know him better in college, I developed stronger feelings for him— feelings I never expressed. It would freak him out. He’d pull away. I’d be lost without his friendship. He’s my person. I would love the whole hearts and flowers experience, but if what we have now is all that I can have with him, I guess I’ll settle for it.
But settling means I’ll never know what he’s like as a lover. I shift in my armchair, uncomfortable and, if I’m being honest, aroused. He’s probably strong and masterful in bed. But not too rough. I don’t want to stereotype him because he’s a shifter, but sue me. I’m curious. He’d know how to touch a woman to make her feel good. I imagine his hands on my body and shiver. I run my hands over my breasts, wishing they were Logan’s. My nipples harden. I’ve never had a man’s mouth on my breasts, felt the rasp of his tongue around my areola. A tongue anywhere. I want that. I want so much. With Logan.
There’s a throb between my legs. It’s time to go to bed for some quality time with BOB, my battery-operated boyfriend. Hope I have batteries.