In the soft glow of morning, Rachel stirred in her sleep, her lashes fluttering before her eyes slowly opened.
She lay still, unmoving, as the memories of last night came flooding back like a swift, overwhelming stream.
Her breath caught in her throat as fragments of it played vividly in her mind—the warmth, the closeness, the intensity.
Last night had been unexpected.
Just as Logan had pulled her into a hug, she'd turned abruptly, startled to see him already in the shower.
She should've expected it—she had called his name after all—but seeing him like that still took her by surprise.
"Logan, what are you doing?" she stuttered, her voice unsteady, caught between confusion and something else—something that made her skin tingle.
"I'm here for you," he had replied, his voice deep, low, and husky, vibrating like a distant drumbeat in her ears and sending an involuntary shiver through her.
