CLANDESTINE | HS |

SIXTEEN

Harry

I couldn't ask for anything else.

With Logan in front of me, her body pressed into mine with my hands guiding hers, it's everything.

When I came out here to clear my head, it took everything in me not to stop at the door to my guest bedroom. Just knowing she was on the other side was enough to drive me crazy.

Honestly, her being in my house was more than enough.

Coming down that escalator at the airport and seeing her was like finally getting the first warm rays from the sun after a cold, desolate winter.

Something only she could do.

At that moment I think it started to click that with her I was in over my head.

These feelings weren't just left over from being in bed with her— this wasn't just a sex thing anymore.

I wanted more.

I wanted her.

It was evident when I pulled her into my lap in her car and it was evident ten minutes ago when I saw her leaning against the doorframe to the one place that gives me peace.

With my chin resting in the crook of her shoulder, I can't help but smile at the way her hands feel under mine as they work back and forth. Neither of us have said anything since she got in front of me, the silence only broken up by the rolling thunder.

She smells like my laundry detergent mixed with the scent of my body wash, something I could get used to.

Even the fabric of my old shirt feels softer on her body.

Things feel different when she's around.

"I didn't know you did this."

Burying my face even deeper into the crook of her neck, I hum out a response. "What?"

"Making things." Her voice is soft. "I never knew."

Staying silent, my fingers move with hers along the grain of the wood. "There's something about knowing that I made something with my hands that feels relaxing. It makes me feel good."

"Everything in here is beautiful, Harry." Logan turns her face just enough, her long lashes framing those pretty eyes.

Like this, she looks the prettiest to me.

Freckles across the bridge of her nose on display, hair wild and wavy, in my clothes. All the years I've had that ratty shirt; it's never looked better.

"Thank you." I press my lips to the underside of her jaw. "You think you can do this yourself?"

Nodding, Logan smiles as she turns to kiss my lips. "I think so."

Pulling my hand back from hers, the tips of my fingers run across her delicate skin until my arms wrap around her waist and bring her in as close to me as possible.

"There you go." My lips brush against her ear as she continues to make the movements just as precise as I did. "You've got it."

This close to me, I relish in the feeling of getting to hold her in my arms without wondering if someone else is going to see us— going to discover what we're doing.

Logan startles at the sound of thunder, sounding so close that it feels as if the ground might split beneath us. Less than five seconds later the sound of rain beats on the roof of the workshop, making her press herself into me even harder.

"Did you really think about me? When you were gone?" Keeping her attention on the table, her voice holds the same soft tone.

Pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, I close my eyes. "I did."