Love to Hate You.

Logan brushes a stray lock of hair away from my face.

"I had fun tonight," he says.

His husky voice sends a shiver of desire careening down my spine. I love that feeling. The one you get when you're out with someone new, and you're really clicking. And you think, Yeah, this could actually go somewhere.

That's exactly what I'm feeling right now. That little voice inside my head is screaming, Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.

"Me, too," I murmur before shoving the key into the lock of the apartment door.

This is going to sound corny as hell, but time stands still as we gaze into each other's eyes. Have I mentioned that Logan has the dreamiest eyes? They're deep and soulful. I can practically feel myself getting lost in them.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed.

The second?

That he's cute.

Cute boys have always been a weakness of mine. He's handsome in a frat boy kind of way, with perfectly styled blond hair and an athletic build that's not overly muscular. I'm a sucker for that look. It should not, however, be confused with the douchey frat boy look.

There's a fine line between the two.

It takes a bit of effort for me to tamp down my rising excitement. The last thing I want to do is jump the gun. This is only the third time we've hung out together, but so far, it looks extremely promising. Even better than that, it feels like we're both on the same page.

I like him, and he seems to return the interest.

My fingers are crossed that my roommates have vacated the premises for the evening. If I were a betting woman, I'd say the odds were in my favor. After all, it's almost ten o'clock on a Friday night. Everyone with a social life at BU knows that's prime party time.

That's the only reason I chanced it and invited Logan up. I want to spend time alone with him, so we can get to know each other better. Since he lives at the Pi Kappa house, the idea of going over to his place was immediately nixed. I may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them.

For the time being, it's my place or making out in his Ford Escape. And since I only live a few blocks from campus, police patrol the area on a regular basis. The last thing I need to get a ticket for is public indecency.

Ummm, no thank you.

I open the door and almost pump my fist at the silence that greets us. But I refrain, wanting to play it cool. Instead, I turn to Logan with an overly bright smile and he grins in response.

See? We are on the same page.

I flick on the hallway light and point toward the living area. "Make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?" I head to the kitchen which is separated from the living area by a breakfast bar with three stools tucked under the faux granite counter.

"Sure, whatever you have is fine." Rather adorably, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his khakis and surveys the apartment.

I can't help but stop and take him in. He really is cute. I'm tempted to do a little happy dance in the kitchen but I'm afraid he'll catch me. I'll have to content myself to a mental jig until later.

"This is a really nice place," he says.

"Thanks. We just moved in a few weeks ago."

Our apartment has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I was lucky enough to snag the master bedroom, so I have a private bathroom all to myself. The living room has a small dining room connected to it. While the kitchen isn't spacious, it's open to the main living area, which makes it feel bigger. It's perfect for the three of us.

I grab two bottles of water from the refrigerator and head back to where Logan has settled on the couch. He's tall. Probably around six feet. His legs are stretched out in front of him. I hand over a plastic bottle and sit next to him. Close, but not too close.

He twists off the cap and takes a long swallow before leaning forward and setting it on the coffee table. Then he relaxes on the couch and throws an arm across the top of the cushions. His fingers brush against my shoulder, and his mouth lifts into a sexy smile.

Mine does the same as my gaze drops to his lips. We've kissed a few times and Logan is a good kisser.

I'm pretty sure that I'm giving him the green light to lean in and plant one on me again.

At least I hope I am.

Logan raises his other hand to my cheek as the arm around my shoulder pulls me toward him.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs, gradually moving in for the kill.

Anticipation floods my system. Other than Logan, there hasn't been much making out going on. I spent most of the summer with my mother-

Best to stop that thought in its tracks. Thinking about Mom will kill the mood, so I'm not going to dwell on her. All my thoughts are on Logan and his very kissable lips that are oh-so-slowly descending toward mine.

My eyes are on the verge of drifting shut when an audible click shatters the silence, and the living room is flooded with bright light. Logan and I leap apart like guilty teenagers who've just been caught having sex in the basement by my parents. My hammering heart is lodged somewhere in my throat.

What the-

I blink, focusing my attention on the muscular form leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest and hiss out an exacerbated breath.

Goddamn it.

I should have known better.

Carter fucking Prescott. Or better known as the biggest pain in my ass.

What the hell is he doing here?

He's supposed to be out getting his drunk on with Noah and holding court with his fan club. I overheard them discussing their plans earlier this afternoon.

Was I eavesdropping?

Please, as if...

What I was doing is a little something called recon. I humph out an irritated breath for all the good it did me. This is precisely the situation I was hoping to avoid.

I blink and realize with another wave of shock that Carter isn't wearing any clothes. How did I miss that? He casually rests against the wall in a pair of white, torso-hugging briefs stamped with red and black roosters.

What.

The.

Hell?

I could seriously die right now. Someone needs to shoot me and put me out of my misery before this gets any worse.

Too late.