the block. For no particular reason, she knew that that woman was who she wanted to draw today. So, she put down her yogurt and started on her sketch pad.
First, she formed the shape of the woman’s body position and the bench, then went back to add more specific details, like her hair and clothes. Lastly, drawing in the final aspects of the scene, like the look in the woman’s eyes, the turning pages of the book, and the surrounding scenery. As she had been working, the sun had risen further in the sky and was now burning bright above her, causing the window seat to become uncomfortably hot. She hadn’t realized that so much time had elapsed, but she looked down at her sketch and smiled with pride.
She put the sketch pad down and stretched out her arms, preparing to get up. Just as she was unfolding her legs, she noticed a swift movement on the sidewalk close to her. She suddenly realized what she was looking at and jumped up, almost falling backwards. She pressed her face closer to the window to get a better view, but it only confirmed what she had seen. She turned to look at her apartment and immediately saw a million things wrong with it. She quickly tossed her yogurt away and picked up her clothes off the floor, rushing to her bedroom to toss them in the laundry bin. She was scrambling around the living room when her doorbell rang.
Coming to an abrupt halt, she looked down at the newspaper she had been taking to the trash and froze, unsure of what to do. She quickly tossed it behind a couch cushion, walking over to the front door. She tried to smooth down her hair with her hands, hoping that she looked somewhat presentable. Her hand grabbed the knob just as the bell rang a second time. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
“Hi,” he said gently, a smile in his words.
“Hi back,” Caroline exhaled, leaning against the door for support, in case her knees buckled in a rebellious attempt to embarrass her. The two stood in silence for a moment, just looking at one another.
“May I come in?”
Caroline nodded and stepped out of the way, her eyes glued to Logan as he walked into her apartment.
“How do you know where I live?” she asked. He turned back to look at her, clearly enjoying the view of her barely clad frame under a large t-shirt.
“George, from the Java Jolt. Then your nice door man downstairs helped pinpoint the specifics,” Logan told her.
Caroline made a mental note to have an angry talk with both Jeremy and George, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. Logan Clay was standing in her living room.
LOGAN CLAY IS STANDING IN MY LIVING ROOM . She took another deep breath, putting on a look of nonchalance, as she walked past him further into the living room.
“Well, why are you here? I think I made myself pretty clear last night. I have no interest in being another notch on your bed post, especially when you are already committed to another woman. I am not that kind of girl,” she said crossly, folding her arms and dropping her right hip as she looked at him with accusation.
He didn’t respond right away and she couldn’t read his face. Part of him looked sad, the other part looked amused. They stood locked in a standoff until Logan took a step closer to her.
“That shirt looks better on you than it ever did on me.” Logan gave her half a smile, his head tilted to the side, as he looked down at her.
Caroline was puzzled, then realized what he was talking about. Her face turned bright red as she realized she had completely forgotten that not only had she stolen his shirt, but she had worn it to bed last night and was still wearing it now. She couldn’t explain why she had stolen it, all she knew is that the smell of him against her skin had been the best part of her night and was the sole cause for the amazing night’s sleep she had. She pulled down at the bottom of the shirt, trying to cover herself further, realizing how exposed her legs