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his teeth over Colin’s bottom lip. “There’s something to be said for necking for hours.”
    “You’re ridiculous,” laughed Colin, unable to contain his smile. He moved forward, capturing Logan’s lips with his once more. He certainly didn’t want it to end anytime soon. Despite how painfully hard he was, the rest of his body felt loose and relaxed. His thoughts were nothing but hazy wisps that he couldn’t hold on to.
    He wouldn’t have noticed the phone ringing if Shea hadn’t started barking obnoxiously. Logan tried to pull away, but Colin clung tight to him. “Ignore it,” he said.
    Logan laughed, kissing him through it. “It’s probably family. Let me get it.”
    Reluctantly Colin slipped his hands from under his shirt and moved his leg to the side. “Fine,” he said. “But bring me a water when you come back.”
    “Demanding,” teased Logan, bending to give him a quick peck before he left the room.
    When he was out of sight, Colin rubbed his face, trying to work out the ache in his jaw. He couldn’t believe his jaw actually hurt from kissing. His lips tingled, feeling puffy and numb. He licked them and wondered just how long they’d been kissing for. It had to have been a while.
    He stretched, rolling from his back to his stomach and burrowing his face into the pillow. Lazily, he rutted his hips into the couch once, twice. He felt tired despite his earlier nap, his eyes drooping.
    He was drifting back to sleep when a heavy weight landed on his back. He grunted, squinting his eyes open to scowl up at Logan. Logan had his phone to his ear, a landline phone—who even used those anymore?—and was smirking down at him.
    “It’s fine,” he said. “This moron wrecked his car, and he’s going to spend Christmas here.” He winked at Colin as he said it, smirk firmly in place.
    Colin flipped him off. Logan shoved his face into the pillow.
    “No, he’s cool,” said Logan. “Definitely not an axe murderer. He does hate Christmas movies, though, so maybe there is something wrong with him. I’ll keep my eye out.”
    Colin tried to buck him off, scrambling to get his knees and hands underneath him to push off. Logan compensated by collapsing to the side and sprawling out lengthwise over Colin’s back.
    “If you talk in my ear,” Colin warned him, “whoever you’re talking to might have cause to worry.”
    Logan reached out and covered his mouth with his ridiculously large hand. Colin licked his palm in retaliation. Logan grimaced but didn’t remove his hand. He proceeded to hold an entire conversation with his mother, squishing Colin into the couch throughout. He removed his hand when he’d finished talking and obligingly lifted himself so Colin could roll over. He then straddled Colin’s stomach.
    Colin mock-glared up at him. “You’re an asshole,” he said, fighting back the dopey grin he wanted to plaster across his face for some inexplicable reason. “Where’s my water?”
    “You should be way more grateful to the man who rescued you from certain death,” said Logan. He leaned to the side, though, and came back with a water bottle in hand. “If this wasn’t my couch, I’d totally dump this on you.”
    He swiped the bottle from Logan. “I need you to get up. I can’t drink it like this.”
    Rather than getting up, Logan leaned down over him. He dragged his thumb along Colin’s bottom lip. Colin tried to bite it. Laughing, he pulled away and finally removed his ass from Colin’s stomach. He scooted down to sit on his thighs.
    Pushing himself up, Colin ignored the weight and guzzled the water. Logan watched him while Colin tried to look at anything and everything that wasn’t him. “Can we watch something not Christmasy?” he asked when he was done drinking.
    “Sure,” said Logan, reaching out and running a hand through Colin’s ruffled hair. “What does Scrooge feel like watching?”

Chapter Three
     
    C OLIN JACKKNIFED up from where he’d been sprawled across the