As it was, I could only manage to slide my skirt around so my fingers could find the fastening at the side and open it. The skirt fell around my feet....I hooked my thumbs into the back of my bikini panties and pused them down as far as I could. I worked them over my ass, but they clung stubbornly around my thighs, and though I tried to lower them further by rubbing my legs together and even hopping up and down a few times, they refused to budge. I knew I looked ridiculous, but Logan seemed to be. Outside your door. A man with absolutely no plan at all. Cup of sugar? Too obvious. A teabag? Too easily misconstrued, given modern street parlance. Fuck. I am 18 inches from your door and I still don’t know what to say. Should I be straight? Let’s try that: “Danielle, I really fancy you. Would you like to have coffee with me sometime?” Yes, that’s it! I’ve wanted to knock so many times, but simply bottled out. Coffee? What am I thinking, for goodness sake? No. No, it isn’t going to fly. You’re. More

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