Lila
Hampton, Virginia
There’s a knock at the door. I frown, glancing at my phone. I’m not expecting anyone and most of my friends text first.
I push my laptop off my lap and pad barefoot toward my front door, still in the cream, short-sleeve shift dress I wore to work.
When I open the door, Logan stands on my front porch, looking unfairly good for a man running on fumes.
He’s in his flight suit, the dark green fabric stretched across his broad shoulders.
His hair is still damp from the shower, and his gray-blue eyes sweep over me before settling on my face with a slow, crooked grin.
“Hey, you.”
Yep. This is how all those dreams begin.
I fold my arms, arching a brow. “Well, hi. Aren’t you supposed to be on base for more night training?”
“I’m headed there now.” He leans against the doorframe like he’s got all the time in the world, despite the fact that he’s probably due for preflight checks in less than an hour. “But I had a few extra minutes, and I figured, why not spend them doing something I enjoy?”
“And what’s that?” I challenge, even as warmth spreads through me.
His grin turns wicked. “Kissing you.”
My heart jumps as he steps forward, closing the distance between us. “You drove all this way just for that?”
“All this way?” He tilts his head slightly, his eyes dropping to my mouth. “You know you live six minutes from me, right? And actually.” He pauses letting his lips just barely touch mine. “You’re on the way to base.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous,” I whisper.
“And you’re stalling.”
Before I can argue, he dips his head and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the corner of my mouth—just enough to tease. My breath catches.
“Logan…”
“Mmm?” He hums against my skin, his hands finding my waist.
“You really should go.” Before I invite you in and make you really late.
“I really should,” he agrees, but he doesn’t move, just nudges my nose with his and murmurs, “Tell me to leave, Lila.”
I can’t.
Instead, I fist the fabric of his flight suit and pull him the rest of the way in.
He groans softly—a deep, satisfied sound—and kisses me like he’s been waiting for this.
His hands tighten around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I forget, for a second, that he’s about to climb into the cockpit and disappear into the night.
He breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against mine. “That should hold me over.”
I arch a brow. “Should?”
His grin is all mischief. “I’ll let you know in a few hours.”
I shove at his chest, laughing, and he steps back, though his fingers linger at my sides.
“I have to go,” he says, but he doesn’t move right away. His eyes stay locked on mine like he’s memorizing something. Then, with one last smirk, he turns for his truck.
“Be safe,” I whisper as I watch him drive away, my lips still tingling from his kiss.