Logan's POV
I stayed under the shower, motionless, water cascading over my shoulders, the heat doing little to calm the storm inside me. My palms pressed flat against the tiled wall as I exhaled a slow, frustrated breath.
What the fuck is wrong with my body?
My pulse was pounding, heat pooling in places that refused to settle, no matter how much I willed it to. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to breathe through it, but my mind was a traitor, conjuring images of Isabelle in my clothes, her slender frame swallowed up by my shirt, the scent of her lingering in the air between us.
The tension wouldn't go away. It gnawed at me like a wildfire, leaving scorched edges where there should be control.
Why the hell is it not coming down?
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting for reason. For logic.
