“I’m sorry we’re all abandoning you for New Year’s,” Jackson, one of my best friends, said over the phone. He currently sounded like Darth Vader—including the interspersed heavy breathing.

“It’s okay—”

“You’re only saying that because my kid didn’t get you sick!”

“Well, yeah. But what did you expect when you had your toddler around everyone for Christmas? They’re little breeding grounds for sick. But as much as I wish I was ringing in the new year with you guys, I, uh, sorta met someone.”

“Oh? In the five days I’ve been dead to the world?”

“Pretty much.” I could feel the heat in my cheeks, although I knew Jackson and Emmett had gone from meeting to married in a very short time. “I met him right after Christmas, and since all of my friends had to cancel their plans with me this week, I spent all my time with him. It was fun. And he invited me to go hang with his people on New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh, meeting the friends already?”

“Jeez. First you abandon me, then you heckle me for making other plans.”

Jackson gave a throaty laugh that sounded more like death than amusement. “Sorry. Go have fun. I’m just excited our little Zack is all grown up.”

Sigh. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Another phlegmy chuckle. “I am excited you met someone though. I hope New Year’s Eve goes well.”

“Thanks. I hope you and Emmett and Rosa feel better.”

“Sure. We’ll ring in the new year by being unconscious in bed. Parenting is fun.”

“Look at your life; look at your choices.”

“I do. Every day. No regrets.”

“You’re disgustingly happy.” I stuck my tongue out at the phone.

“Hey, I want all my friends disgustingly happy too.”

“And sick, it seems,” I couldn’t help adding.

“If love is a sickness, then I don’t want to be well!”

I snorted. “Okay, I think your cold meds have kicked in. Say good night, Gracie.”

“Good night, Shirley.”

I had no clue what he was talking about. The drugs must have hit him hard. I lowered the phone and texted in the group chat that I hoped everyone had a good new year and felt better, and that despite them abandoning me, I had plans. They didn’t rib me much—they probably figured Jackson would have already—and asked for all the details.

I told them the bare facts, trying not to gush. I wasn’t superstitious or anything, but it felt risky to say how awesome Logan was when we hadn’t known each other that long. It was hard not to, though, because he was awesome, and after last night, everything felt right.

Jenna demanded: We better get pics.

<3 If only so we know who to hunt down, Laura, her girlfriend, said.

Definitely not to judge your taste in men, Mark said.

Roe admitted, I will totally be judging.

You will not be disappointed, I promised. It had only been a week, so I didn’t have any couple-selfies. I didn’t think that would give the best angle anyway, although it would show his broadness. Would he find it odd if I insisted on taking a picture of him? Preferably shirtless.

The thought was still on my mind as Logan picked me up in his car and we headed to his friends’ place. Not that envisioning Logan shirtless was a hardship. But a picture? It depended on how the evening went—the involvement of booze could go a long way toward getting a man’s shirt off, as I knew from personal experience. Not that I had plans to get him drunk and take advantage of him. Well, maybe for the topless pictures, which, when phrased that way, did sound pretty skeevy.

Sigh. Okay, no sneaky shirtless pics were happening. I’d have to see if he’d pose for me anyway. Shirt optional.

“You’re smirking again,” Logan said as we walked down the street toward his friend’s place. “I thought you’d be nervous about meeting everyone, but there you are grinning like a maniac.”

I snorted. “I had managed to distract myself. Now I’m nervous. Thanks.”

“Nothing to be nervous about.” He used his hold on my hand to tug me closer so our shoulders bumped.

“Then why did you think I would be?”

“Uh . . .” He chuckled, then affected Ackbar’s voice. “It’s a trap.”

I shivered. That voice shouldn’t be sexy, but it also didn’t seem possible for Logan to make a voice that wasn’t sexy. This was a twisty, confusing experience. “Well, I had been thinking about what I’d need to do to get you shirtless so I could take pictures to send to my friends to make them all jealous, but . . .”

“I volunteer as tribute.”

I pulled him down to kiss his cheek, honestly amazed that we didn’t bash heads. “You’re a brave man.”

Truth be told, I was extremely nervous about meeting his friends. Because these weren’t just his friends. They were his family. Sure, he’d met my family, but that had been on a lark; he hadn’t been trying to impress them. Had been trying the opposite, actually. I, however, was going into the lion’s den with the people who were most important to Logan.

No pressure.

“See, this is what I expected as we headed to the party,” he said, knocking on the front door of a townhouse. “Terrified silence.”

I took a deep breath and held it a second. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I’m the pickiest one in the group, I swear. And you passed my muster, so you must be okay.”

“Oh good, I’m ‘okay.’”

He was still snickering when the door opened and a dark-skinned, curly-haired woman was standing there. Immediately her mouth split open in a huge smile. “Logan!”

Her gaze shifted to me and raked over my body like I was naked and she could see every blemish. Although, based on the gleam in her eye, maybe she wasn’t looking at blemishes. “And your guest.”

“I’ll introduce him to everyone once you let us inside.” He nudged the door with the toe of his shoe.

She stepped aside, holding the door wide and making a sweeping gesture with her arm. “Entrez vous, s’il vous plaît.”

“Oooh, a fancy French restaurant.” I clamped my hands around Logan’s arm like ladies always did when they were excited in rom-coms. And it wasn’t only to hide the slight nervous tremor in my hands. “Logan, why didn’t you tell me? I would have dressed better!”

Logan rolled his eyes as we stepped in, but the young woman who’d opened the door was giggling as she closed it behind us. “I hate to disappoint, mysterious stranger, but that’s all the French I know. Though there will be, uh, apéritifs and hors d’oeuvres.”

I let go of Logan’s arm to clap, hamming it up and earning a grin from her. Then I slipped out of my jacket, and Logan took the coat, eyes rolling again. Still? He handed the jackets to our host, who hung them in a closet full of tangled shoes.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s go introduce your cutie to everyone else.”

I slipped my hand into Logan’s, not wanting to be clingy but needing something to settle the nerves that were rocketing through my body. He squeezed my hand and threw me a smile as we climbed a short set of steps and turned into a living room packed with people. Okay, not wall-to-wall packed, but the seats were all filled and a few people were standing by a table that was weighed down with food. I was glad we’d decided to bring champagne.

“Okay, everyone!” our host announced. “Logan is here with his arm candy. Time for introductions.” She turned to me. “There will be a test later, of course.”

“Of course,” I said. Although I hoped everyone wasn’t expecting much from me. My name-face recall was awful. Like, if I hadn’t been eye-fucking Logan on our first meeting, I would have forgotten his name in the first half an hour. It was bad.

“My name’s Erika,” our host said, and then she pointed around the room, throwing out names at such speed that I barely had time to repeat them once in my head before she was moving on to the next person. She was grinning when she finished. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Okay.” I pointed at myself. “My name’s Erika.”

It got the laughs I was going for, even from Logan. He dragged me farther into the room and made more personal introductions. The crowd was friendly, although it felt like as soon as anyone said one word to Logan, they slipped into a foreign language—and it wasn’t French. There were references to shows I hadn’t seen, experiences I hadn’t been present for, topics I knew nothing about. Nothing strange when meeting new people. I clung to Logan so I wouldn’t float away on a sea of unfamiliarity. It was probably normal new-person jitters.

Thankfully as we went around, he made a point to say which were his “best friends” versus just “friends,” giving me a clue they were important and I should remember them. I only hoped I could: Erika, Jacob, Bryan, Troy, Alessa, and Matti. I tried to lock them in. It was a blessing his friends were varied and colorful, so at least they weren’t twelve blonde sorority sisters I’d need to tell apart.

Eventually we ended up on a couch, plates of food balanced on our knees, drinks cluttering the coffee table.

“All I’m saying is, it’s been a hell of a year,” Erika said. “I know nothing changes at the strike of midnight, but I want to wash away all of it.”

“All of it?” Alessa asked from her spot on the floor by Erika’s feet, head angled up, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Well. I guess getting together with you was a good thing.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Alessa turned her head and bit Erika’s knee.

“Hey!” Erica gently smacked the back of Alessa’s head. “I said it was a good thing!”

“You guess.” Alessa pouted and Erika bent down. I averted my gaze as they shared a disgustingly sweet kiss.

I focused on Logan instead, who was smirking and watching me. He leaned over to murmur in my ear, “What do you think so far?”

I bussed my lips against his cheek and whispered back, “They are terrifying and wonderful.”

His hum rippled down my spine and settled in my groin, not at all helped by his warm hand landing on my thigh, above the plate, and giving a squeeze. “I’m glad you approve.”

“Aww, the cute new couple is being all couple-y.”

Logan glared at Troy—well, I thought it was Troy. “Fuck off. You’re just jealous.”

Troy grabbed his chest in mock hurt. “I would deny it, were it not true.”

The banter slipped into talks about the shitty past year—filled with inside jokes that flew over my head and cutting comments that made me wince—hopes for the new one, and plans for resolutions, most of which seemed to be variations of “last year’s resolutions, but actually do them.”

Erika turned to me, eyes sparkling. “So, Isaac, what’s your resolution?”

“The usual: lose weight, make millions, have a hot biker fall madly in love with me.” The hand on my thigh squeezed again, and I couldn’t help smiling. “I have high hopes.”

“Good luck with that last one,” Alessa chimed, and everyone started talking at once—I couldn’t quite follow what was being said, mostly because the hand on my thigh had inched up a little bit more.

“I have high hopes too” was whispered in my ear with such promise that I felt like a fool: one week and I was falling hard.

But at least he seemed to be falling with me.

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Happy mummmum . . .” My greeting to the new year was muffled as Logan covered my mouth with his lips. Damn could he kiss. Not only with his lips and tongue, but his hands, his breath, his entire body molding against me and drawing me into it until I gladly submitted to whatever he wanted. And what he wanted to do was kiss. If we weren’t at his friend’s house, we probably would have dropped to the couch and gone further—our hands were already creeping toward skin—but we didn’t. Even though I wanted to wrap my legs around him and go at it.

He broke the kiss, whispering, “Happy New Year,” against my lips while I panted and tried not to hump his leg, which I’d straddled at some point.

“Happy New Year,” I managed between breaths, staring up into his dark eyes. “A very nice start to the year.”

“I think it promises to be a good one.”

He pressed his lips to mine again, stealing my breath away once more, and I knew he was right.