Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
PIPER
“ T he main thing is making the experience seem fun,” I say, then take a sip of red wine. After the last few days, I don’t feel guilty about a small glass. “Or maybe we could have stages.”
“Stages?” Milo asks.
“At first, the copy is fun and carefree, but as the users progress through their romance, it can become more romantic and meaningful. For example, the video share could start with, Hey, want to chat? Not that exactly, but something easy, casual. Then it could go to something like, Your soulmate is calling… ”
“Whoa,” Milo says, eyes wide.
“I know. That might be too cheesy.”
“No, I mean…” He nods. “Mr. Wolfe is here.”
“Logan?” I say, my heartstrings tugging.
I regret using his first name in front of Milo. Turning, I see Logan striding across the restaurant like a man on a mission. If I thought he was tense in his office, this is something else entirely. He looms over the table, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Mind if I join you?” he says huskily.
“Sure, Mr. Wolfe,” Milo says. “We were just discussing the copy for Forever Love. The notifications for screen sharing, specifically.”
Logan sits next to me, his leg brushing against mine under the table. When he looks at Milo, it’s like he’s angry. Is he jealous? Does he think this is a date? Would it be wrong if I kind of like that?
Yes, it would. I need to relax. Logan showing up like this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t like him being so possessive so fast. That’s the thing with us, though. What I should and shouldn’t want goes out the window when we’re together—digitally or physically.
“I was thinking we could have stages,” I murmur, suddenly achingly aware of his closeness. He looks closely at me, seeming receptive to my ideas. “The first stage: the crush. The second is going steady. Third, things are heating up. The fourth is soulmates. Something like that. And for each stage, the copy for the notifications could be slightly different.”
“That’s fascinating,” Logan says.
A giddy smile spreads across my face. My chest heats up, joy bouncing through me more potent than any wine.
“You think so?”
Logan nods. “I seriously do.”
“She’s a keeper, isn’t she?” Milo says.
Logan stares at him like he’s going to go completely feral.
“Excuse me,” Milo says a moment later. “The little boy’s room is calling…”
“Logan,” I hiss once Milo has gone. “Stop looking at him like that.”
Under the table, he squeezes my leg. He seems even more on the edge than when I left him in his office. He’s wild, staring down at me as if he’s going to crash his lips into mine right here in the restaurant.
“What is he to you?” he snarls.
I reach under the table, grabbing his wrist, meaning to push him away. But I can’t. It’s like there’s this block inside of me, this desire that won’t stop, this swelling in my heart that won’t stop, either, telling me we’re perfect for each other.
“It shouldn’t matter to you,” I hiss. “Because we’re nothing to each other.”
“Is that what you honestly think?” he says, gliding his hand up my leg. “Every time I touch you, kiss you, text you, I feel like I own you.”
“Has something happened? You seem different.”
“Yes, something happened. You’re in a restaurant with a man who isn’t me. It makes me want to show you how badly you belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to you.”
“Keep telling yourself that…”
Is he serious? Is he actually doing this?
I try to look normal as he glides his hand up my leg under the table. The restaurant is busy with servers walking back and forth. We’re in a booth. Nobody can see us. But when his hand strokes against my sex through my pants, I know it’s wrong.
I know I should make it stop. I bite my lip as he strokes my sex through the material, my clit aching, my lips tingling.
“Luh-Logan,” I whisper. “You can’t.”
“Say that like you mean it.”
“Logan.” I gasp.
“You need me as badly as I need you,” he growls.
This is so wrong, yet it feels so right. He strokes his hand against my crotch, my underwear feeling sticky and wet, my body aching like I’ve been waiting for this ever since we exchanged our first text.
I close my legs around his hand, but that doesn’t stop his tempting motion as he grinds up and down. I’m not being dramatic when I feel that my vision begins to get hazy. Or maybe I am. Maybe everything with us is destined to be thrilling.
“Logan,” I hiss. “Milo’s coming back. Stop. Now.”
My tone is enough to make Logan withdraw his hand. He makes a husky noise that tells me how difficult it is for him. He wants to keep going as badly as I want him to. We’re both trapped in a cycle of lust and romance and connection and guilt—or maybe trapped absolves us of too much responsibility.
“Sorry that took longer than expected,” Milo says. “I had to take a call.”
“From your husband?” I ask.
I almost burst out laughing when Logan’s eyes shoot up in comic-book fashion. I aim a knowing look at him, and he smiles ruefully.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Milo says warmly. “Anyway, where were we?”
“I want us to capture the connection in the digital age,” Logan says. “I won’t pretend to be an expert on the copy. That’s your domain. But with texting and communicating via cell phones, I think it’s gotten a bad rap. I believe there is such a thing as true connection through devices.”
A shiver runs down my spine as though he’s trailing his finger down me.
“I agree,” I murmur after a pause. “I’d even go so far as to say that texting has some distinct benefits over talking in person.”
“How so?” Milo asks, looking at me and then Logan, listening attentively.
“There are things you can’t say in person,” I say.
“And there’s the fact that some men are just downright wild,” Logan mutters, looking at me with intense eyes that turn me into a freaking time traveler… Suddenly, it’s a minute ago, and his hand is on my sex again. “They get carried away in person. They can’t help themselves. Some men need the distance of texting to be emotional.”
“And for women, maybe there are things they find difficult to discuss,” I go on. “Like, I don’t know, their sexual experience, or lack of experience, or whatever. So, they need the barrier that texting provides. Perhaps we could even hint at this in the copy…”
“Go on,” Logan says, looking at me with unhidden interest.
“We could be playful with it. When initiating the first video call, we could ask, Are you sure you want to leave the cozy comfort of texting behind for now? Or maybe we could hint that they can always return. We need to speak to people, the texting generation, on their level. When sharing videos, audio, or watching movies together, they should be able to type messages seamlessly, without interrupting the experience.”
“Almost like they’re there together,” Logan says.
“But without the, you know…”
“The pressure?” Logan offers. When I nod, he says, “Is that what it feels like, Har…” He stops himself before using my nickname. “For some women, pressure?”
“Maybe, but not pressure in a bad way. It's not like the guy is forcing them to do anything. It's more like they’re feeling the pressure from the inside. Like, if they’re in person with the guy for a second longer, they won’t be able to take it anymore.”
My voice is wild with passion, but I can’t seem to make it stop.
“You two have it all figured out,” Milo says, smiling. “I’ve got to say, Mr. Wolfe, I’ve never seen you work so… synergistically with an employee before.”
He’s right. We do synergize. We share a spark and make something together we could never make alone, which doesn’t just relate to work.
“I think we’ve made some excellent progress,” Milo says, then takes out his phone. “Would you think I’m terribly rude if I left to be with my suddenly needy husband?”
“Not at all,” Logan says. “I can give Piper a ride home.”
Milo says his goodbyes, once again leaving me and Logan alone in a restaurant. This one is much busier than the jazz place, not to mention closer to where we work. Logan watches him go with that same handsome, rueful smile.
“Have you calmed down now?” I tease.
“I kind of lost it,” he mutters.
“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me that. I saw. I thought you were going to hit him or something.”
“No, no,” he says, the second no sounding like he’s trying to convince himself. “I just can’t think of you with anybody else.”
“That’s an issue, Logan, because you shouldn’t even be able to think of yourself with me.”
“It’s the only thing I can think about,” he says. He leans closer to me. Part of me wishes I could flip a switch and stop myself from adoring how he looks at me; that all-encompassing gaze tells me nobody else could ever make him feel like I do. “When you were talking about some things being easier to talk about over text, that wasn’t academic, was it? You hinted at what you told me before you stormed out of my office.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, time for a little ABC, Mr. Boss. A—I didn’t storm out . B—If I were talking about that, what makes you think I can discuss it now? And C—you have to stop looking at me like that in public.”
“I don’t know any other way to look at you.”
“Well, try. This isn’t a freaking text thread. People can see us.”
“Milo was right,” Logan says, sitting back. “We work well together. Bouncing ideas around with you feels natural. Everything with you feels natural. As for the other thing, you know you don’t need to be ashamed, right?”
“I’m not ashamed of being a virgin,” I mutter, looking at the table. “It’s just something I don’t talk about. I wanted you to know this will not be some easy fling.”
“Nothing about this is easy,” he says, his eyes darting around the restaurant.
“Why are you so amped up?” I ask.
He stares at me, his expression changing, becoming dangerous somehow. I’m not sure that makes sense, but that’s how it feels. Like, if I keep asking questions, it will lead to a dark, awful place. I should stop and turn back, but that’s been the crux of it since this started.
I get the feeling there’s no turning back when it comes to Logan and me.