Hypothetical Heart (Farewell Fairwood #2)

Chapter 36

36

“ H ow long into your relationship did you wait to have sex with Jameson?” I ask Genevieve, the two of us standing in the bathroom of my apartment.

She and Jameson are staying here tonight since we all decided to go to a costume party in the city together, and our place is within walking distance.

“Um… I don’t know if I was on a timeline, necessarily.” She fixes the halo on top of her head before smoothing her hands down her white top and skirt.

We let the boys pick out our costumes, and of course, Jameson made Genevieve an angel. Meanwhile, I’m a cowgirl with bootcut jeans and a tiny denim halter top that zips up the front. I’m hoping their goal was to pick matching couples costumes, or else none of this makes sense.

“I know, and I’m not either. I just want to make sure I don’t jump the gun too soon.” The progression of our relationship has never been the most normal pace, considering it took us nearly nineteen years to finally get together, so it’s hard for me to discern what is considered too soon .

Plus, he’s already seen my boobs, and I’ve sucked his dick. That counts for something, right?

“Winnie,” Genevieve sighs, looking at me through the mirror as she puts blush on. “You and Logan have waited long enough to do anything, let alone have sex. If it feels right and you want to, then do it.”

I run my hands through my hair, pulling at my roots. “Okay.”

“What’s bothering you so much about it?” Genevieve turns to look at me and reaches out to fix the placement of my necklace.

“I’ve never done anything on the receiving end, Evie. On top of that, I’m a fumbling mess ninety percent of the time. It’d probably be so awkward for him.” It’s the honest truth, something I would never say in front of Logan for fear of embarrassment.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Not to be crass, but I don’t see Logan being the type of guy to just lie back and make you do all the work. He’d do whatever you want, Winnie, because he’s obsessed with you.”

“So you don’t think it’s too soon?” I ask.

“No, but if you’re going to do it tonight while I’m sleeping in your living room, please try to be quiet.” She laughs.

“Thanks, Evie,” I say sincerely, and she wraps her arms around me.

We break apart when we notice both our phones buzzing on the counter, our boyfriends telling us to meet them in the lobby.

“Hey,” Genevieve says, grabbing my hand to stop me from leaving right this second. “Don’t hold back tonight. Just do what feels right. ”

I take a deep breath as if I could inhale the confidence that flows between her words. “Yeah,” I say, even though I don’t sound sure.

Jameson is waiting in front of the elevator for us, wearing black slacks and a red button-up, perfectly matching his devil horns.

When I see Logan standing in the lobby, I can’t help but laugh out loud in pure shock.

Genevieve can’t either. “What the fuck is he wearing?” she asks.

My hand falls over my mouth as we approach them. I’ve been stunned into silence by my boyfriend, standing in front of us in a full cowboy costume.

“I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” My hands rake up my face and over my head as I approach him.

“Well good thing I know just the right words.” He smiles, slinging his arm over my shoulders. “You look gorgeous, just like I knew you would, sweetheart.”

My hand lands on his bare chest; I’m not even worried about where Jameson and Genevieve are or whether or not they’re watching. All I can focus on is the fact that my boyfriend–my city-born and raised boyfriend–is dressed as a sexy cowboy right in front of me. And I like it… a lot.

“We are in New York City right now. You realize that, right?” I laugh, taking in his obnoxious outfit.

He’s shirtless, wearing jeans with a cowboy hat and a bandana. To top it off, he has a lasso wrapped around his neck.

“It’s a good thing we’re matching then, isn’t it?”

He’s probably right. At least I won’t be the only one out of place tonight.

“Are you wearing fucking cowboy boots?” Genevieve interjects, putting a hand on Jameson’s chest to step in front of him in order to get a closer look at Logan. Her boyfriend doesn’t even mind. He’s too busy laughing along.

Logan motions downward. “They complete the look.”

“Good Lord, we’ve got to go,” Genevieve sighs, throwing her head back and messing up her halo.

“ S he’s the furthest thing from an angel!” Logan scoffs as we watch our friends from across the bar.

Genevieve is drunk–the rest of us are feel-good tipsy–and somehow, she got persuaded into laying on the bar top while Jameson takes a body shot off her. I’m in complete shock watching because I assumed she would never do something like this.

Instead, here I sit, watching her put salt on her neck, a lime in her mouth, and a shot glass on her bare stomach.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone.

“Hey, at least she seems like she’s having a good time,” Logan replies.

Jameson takes the shot before licking the salt off Genevieve's neck and biting the lime while keeping it in her mouth. It’s already meant to be overtly sexual, but with the two of them dressed as an angel and a devil, it’s even more promiscuous.

When she hops off the bar, she narrows her gaze directly toward me. “Winnie! Logan! Your turn!”

I’m shaking my head before I even think about what she’s asking us to do. “Absolutely not.”

Logan wraps his arm around my waist, fully prepared to defend whatever decision I make. It fills me with a type of guilt because I know he won’t speak his mind if he knows I feel a different way.

I bite my lip, thinking about what he would do in this situation. “Unless…You want to?” I add, more as a question.

“I don’t want to if you don’t,” he says quickly, not even questioning my apprehension.

“Maybe we should…” I trail off, glancing back toward our friends.

“Winnie.” He grabs my hand to stop me when I hop off my stool. “Don’t do something you don’t want to do just because you think you’re being unfair to me, because you’re not.”

“I just–” I pause, looking up at the black-glittered ceiling. “I don’t want you to miss out on normal couple things because I’m too anxious to do anything.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, pressing his forehead to mine. “The only time I felt like I was missing out on anything was when I wasn’t with you.”

“You say that, but I don’t know how.” My eyes start to burn, but I blink back the water.

“Because you’re perfect,” he says like it’s obvious before pressing his lips to my forehead. “I don’t need anything more from you than what I already have.”

I grab the tip of his cowboy hat, pulling it off and using it to cover both our faces in the corner of this city bar. “Kiss me,” I tell him.

He gives me a look, a familiar one that says here, right now? Are you sure? I don’t care. I’m already leaning into him.

Jameson and Genevieve are already in their own little world somewhere across the bar, so I’m not worried about them catching us. Plus, almost everybody else in this bar has been making out and dry humping all night. Really, we’re fitting right in.

Logan sits down at the booth behind us, so I’m now towering over him. I go to bend my legs to be at a better height in comparison to him, but he pulls away instead, and right when I go to protest, he pulls the lasso off from around his neck.

“What are you–”

Holding the end of the rope in either hand, he loops it over my head and around my waist. Before I can question it any further, he uses the rope to pull me into him, making it so I’m straddling his lap.

I never thought I’d be one to be turned on by a lasso but Goddamn, that was hot.

Both of my hands land on his jaw, his still holding the rope tight, keeping the two of us flush together. Making out in a New York City bar with Logan was definitely not on my agenda for the night, but I’m happy it’s happening nonetheless.

The second our lips meet, everything else fades away–the loud music, the crowd, everything. Logan’s kiss is slow and deliberate, filled with an intensity that says more than any words ever could.

After a few minutes of his lips moving against mine, it gets a bit more heated. Our teeth start knocking and his tongue is running over my lip.

“Shit,” I mumble as I pull away. I didn’t care much before, but now it feels like everyone in this bar has to be staring at us. His cowboy hat is still in my hand, and the lasso is still around my waist.

“We’re fine,” Logan assures me when he notices me glancing around. “Nobody cares.”

“I know.” I put the hat back on his head before leaning back so that my feet can hit the floor, forcing him to let me out from under the rope.

“Are you sure you don’t want that body shot?” Genevieve asks with a smirk as she and Jameson come back to the table. Both of them have their hands full of drinks.

“It looks like they’re having fun all on their own,” Jameson says, eyes wide.

Logan laughs, pulling me back down on his lap. “You okay?” he whispers in my ear, pulling a random drink toward us.

“I’m fine.” My hand wraps around the cup in his hand, and he helps me pull it to my lips. “Vodka Coke,” I grimace, putting the cup to his mouth instead.

Jameson and Genevieve both glance back and forth between Logan and me, as if they’re studying us.

“Is something wrong?” Logan asks, downing the drink in a few gulps.

This time, they exchange a look. “No, not at all,” Jameson says, pursing his lips.

Genevieve is trying not to laugh. “We’re just wondering which apartment we should stay in if we don’t want to hear the two of you fuck through the walls all night,” she slurs.

Jameson covers her mouth with his hand, leaning closer to whisper something in her ear.

I’m expecting Logan to say something to defuse the awkwardness I’m feeling, reassuring me we don’t have to do anything. Instead, he looks toward me with a smirk. “Your place or mine?”

My face heats in a blush. All the embarrassment I was feeling fades away and turns into pure adrenaline. “Whichever is closer,” I mutter in his ear, leaning further into him.

I catch a glimpse of Genevieve’s face when she overhears our conversation, and I can’t tell if it’s one of shock or excitement. Either way, it doesn’t matter.

I reach behind Logan, maneuvering so that I can grab his apartment keys from the back pocket of his jeans. “Logan’s place is all yours,” I say, siding the keychain across the table.