Lynn's POV
Heat floods my cheeks at Logan's words, his eyes tracking over me with an intensity that makes my skin feel like it's on fire. The borrowed shirt suddenly feels less like coverage and more like an invitation—especially with the way his gaze lingers on my bare legs.
"You're staring," I point out, though my voice lacks any real protest.
"Can you blame me?" Logan shifts on the bed, and I catch the way the sheet tents slightly at his hips. His arousal is obvious, immediate, and completely unashamed. "Come here."
The command in his voice sends electricity down my spine, but reality is creeping back in with the morning light. We need boundaries. Space. Time to figure out what this actually means.
"Breakfast first," I say firmly, moving toward the kitchen before I can change my mi
