I shouldn't be aware of him.
That's the first thought that hits me.
The music is loud bass heavy enough to rattle through my ribs. Maya is still dancing like she was born for it, laughing at something someone shouts over the speakers. Daniel is across the room, arguing passionately about soccer with two guys who look equally invested.
And Logan is standing beside me.
Not touching, not speaking.
Just there.
But I can feel him.
Like static in the air before lightning strikes. Like something charged and waiting.
"You don't have to hover," I say, keeping my eyes on the crowd so I don't make this worse.
"I'm not hovering."
"You kind of are."
"I'm standing."
"Near me."
"That's allowed."
I turn to look at him.
Big mistake.
The colored lights flicker across his face, blue then red then purple, catching the sharp line of his jaw. His eyes look darker in this lighting. Less guarded and more dangerous.
"You scared him off," I say.
"The guy?"
"Yes."
"He'll recover."
"He didn't even do anything."
"He was about to."
"You don't know that."
"I do."
There's no hesitation in his voice. No doubt.
I sigh. "You can't just claim me every time someone talks to me."
His eyes sharpen slightly.
"I didn't claim you."
"You literally said I was with you."
"You were."
"That's not what I meant."
A muscle ticks in his jaw.
"You don't like it?" he asks quietly.
My heart skips.
"Like what?"
"When I do that."
I swallow.
"I don't need you to rescue me."
"I wasn't rescuing you."
"Then what were you doing?"
His gaze drops to my mouth.
And lingers.
My breath stutters.
"Stopping myself," he says softly.
The words land like a match to gasoline.
"From what?" I whisper.
Silence...
The music fades into the background. The crowd blurs. The world narrows down to the space between us.
People move around us, laughing, shouting, living their lives.
But this moment is small.
Contained and dangerous.
His hand lifts slightly like he's going to touch my face.
He stops halfway.
Drops it.
"This is a bad idea," he mutters.
"What is?"
"This."
He steps closer instead of farther.
That's the problem.
He always says no while moving closer.
"You're the one who keeps saying we shouldn't start something," I remind him.
"Exactly."
"Then stop looking at me like that."
His eyes darken.
"Like what?"
"Like you're about to..."
I don't finish.
Because he moves.
Not fast tho just deliberate.
One step.
Now there's barely space between us.
The air feels heavy.
My pulse pounds in my ears.
"If I kissed you right now," he says quietly, "you wouldn't stop me."
It's not a question.
It's a statement.
And the worst part?
He's right.
My throat feels dry.
"You don't know that," I manage.
A faint, almost sad smile touches his mouth.
"Yeah," he says. "I do."
His hand comes up again.
This time, his fingers brush my jaw lightly
But it sends heat rushing down my spine. My skin feels too sensitive... too aware.
I should step back...
I should say something...
I don't tho
The music shifts to something slower. Couples around us move closer together. The lights dim slightly.
He leans in.
Slow enough that I could move away.
Slow enough that he's giving me the choice.
My heart is pounding so hard it almost hurts.
This is it.
The line.
The one we keep pretending exists.
His forehead almost touches mine.
His breath is warm against my skin.
"Logan…" I whisper.
It sounds less like a warning and more like surrender.
And then...
"BUBU!"
Daniel's voice slices through everything.
Logan pulls back instantly.
Like the moment never existed.
Like he didn't just almost kiss me.
Daniel pushes through the crowd, grinning. "Why are you two standing here looking like you're in a music video?"
My face burns.
"No reason," Logan says smoothly.
Daniel looks between us.
Suspicious but distracted.
"Come on, we're heading out soon."
"Already?" I ask, still trying to steady my breathing.
"Yeah. Early practice tomorrow."
He claps Logan on the shoulder and disappears back into the crowd.
I can't look at Logan.
I don't trust myself to.
For a second, neither of us speaks.
The silence feels heavier than the music.
Then...
"That can't happen again," Logan says quietly.
The words feel like a slap.
"Right," I reply.
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"This is exactly why I didn't want you here."
I blink. "Excuse me?"
"I can't..." He exhales sharply. "When you look at me like that, I can't think straight."
My stomach flips.
"You think I can?" I whisper.
His eyes snap to mine.
Raw and unfiltered.
Then he steps back.
Creating space this time on purpose
"Go get Daniel," he says.
And just like that, the wall goes back up.
The ride home is quiet.
Daniel scrolls through his phone in the backseat of the rideshare, oblivious.
Logan sits beside him.
I sit in the front.
And yet I can still feel him.
Like a magnetic pull.
Like unfinished business.
When we get to the apartment, Daniel heads straight to the bathroom.
"Good Night," he calls casually.
"Good Night," I answer.
Logan lingers near the kitchen.
I try to walk past him.
He catches my wrist gently, not too tight but just enough to stop me.
My breath catches.
"We shouldn't," he says.
His voice is low and controlled
I hate that it sounds strained.
"I know."
"Say it like you mean it."
"We shouldn't," I repeat.
His fingers tighten slightly before he lets go.
There's something in his eyes.
Regret, want and fear
All of it tangled together.
"Go to bed," he says quietly.
I nod and walk to my room.
But I don't sleep.
I sit on the edge of my bed staring at nothing.
He almost kissed me.
I almost let him.
And the worst part?
I wanted him to.
Not because it was reckless.
Not because it was forbidden.
But because when he leaned in, it felt inevitable.
Like something that's been building for years without either of us naming it.
There's a soft knock on my door.
My heart jumps.
I know who it is before he says anything.
"Bunny."
The nickname doesn't feel childish anymore.
It feels intimate.
"Yeah?"
A pause.
Then...
"Lock your door tonight."
I frown. "Why?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
His voice drops lower.
"Because I don't trust myself."