It was this unknown tension that worried Logan. This tension between them that neither of them knew how to deal with and that's why they started fighting all the time. That never happened before. And what the hell happened at the restaurant tonight? Where was this sudden . . . energy between them coming from? What was wrong with them? What happened to them?

Logan's thoughts were interrupted by Camille's voice. "Thanks for walking me home."

Logan blinked briefly, then nodded. "My pleasure." He watched as Camille opened her door with her key card, but then she stopped. She turned to him with an uncertain expression, something he wasn't used from her.

"You know, my dad isn't home. He's on a trip with some colleagues."

"Oh-kay," Logan replied slowly.

"I thought, well, that you might want to stay . . ."

"You mean for another hour or two? Yes, I can do that."

Camille shook her head imperceptibly. "Actually . . . I thought you could stay the night."

"Oh . . ." Logan hesitated. What was happening? He had the feeling that this was all going too fast for him and at the same time he feared that he was misinterpreting everything and worried too much about nothing. What was the right answer, what was the right way, the right decision? Unfortunately, Camille took his hesitation as an answer. "Of course you don't have to stay. I just thought . . . Anyway, good night." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and was about to head off to her apartment when . . .

"Wait."

Logan had made up his mind. And looking back, it was pretty simple. Because the question wasn't what could possibly happen between them, but whether he really wanted to stay with the girl, for whom he had more strong feelings than for anything else in the world. And the answer was yes.

He took a step forward, tilted his head, kissing her gently. "I wanna stay," he whispered.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Camille smiled slightly, took his hand, and led him inside.

Logan sat down on the comfortable couch.

"Do you want something to drink?"

He shook his head. "No, thanks."

Camille nodded and sat down next to him, frowning.

"Hey," Logan said quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "What's wrong?"

Camille bit her lower lip. "Can we talk?"

Logan nodded. "Of course, about what?"

"About us, about tonight, about the last few weeks. Haven't you noticed that something is . . . different between us? Why are we fighting so much?"

Logan said nothing.

"I don't want to fight with you," Camille said softly, stroking his cheek. "I just want to be with you."

Logan took her hand from his cheek and brought the tips to his mouth, kissing them gently. "I want that too."

Camille still looked uncertain.

"Come here," Logan said, pulling her close. She rested her head on his chest and ran two fingers down his arm. "I can't stop thinking about the way you looked at me while you and the boys were singing."

"You're the only one that rocks my world," Logan repeated the verse where he and Camille had made eye contact. She smiled. "Am I?"

"Are there any doubts?" Logan asked with his crooked grin that made Camille's skin tingle every time she saw it. She straightened up, looking down at him, running her fingertips through his hair.

"You don't really want to date other people, do you?" Logan asked quietly.

"No, never," she replied and kissed him. It was a long-awaited kiss with some resemblance to the kisses they had shared at the restaurant. Camille pulled away, looked into his face, into his eyes, which were suddenly a few shades darker than usual. It made her shiver. "You feel it too, don't you?"

"I feel it," Logan replied, his voice was hoarse, rough.

"You know, we could stop. We could . . ." Camille trailed off, not sure how to continue. To be honest, she'd thought about that possibility a lot lately, imagining what it could be like, but she knew how reserved and shy Logan was and didn't want to put pressure on him. But his next words changed everything, "I don't wanna stop . . ."

They didn't know how they got from the living room into Camille's bedroom, let alone Camille's bed. Logan also didn't know why he was suddenly only wearing his boxers, everything had happened so fast. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes fell on Camille. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over her body. And he felt equal parts excited and bad. Because it felt wrong, so wrong to look at his amazing girlfriend in that way, he really shouldn't do that. But . . . it was also a damn good feeling.

Camille seemed to have mixed feelings as well, never presented herself to a boy in this way before. Logan reached out and pulled her close. "You're amazing," he whispered, burying his face in her hair, while his breath caressed her neck. "Never forget that."

She tried to suppress the pain, tried to hide it. But Logan could see it. And once again he felt bad. It wasn't fair. Why did it have to hurt her when he didn't feel anything? He wished it were different. If he could, he would take all her pain right away. But he couldn't. He could only try to calm her down, to make her smile again. He leaned forward, careful not to cause her any further discomfort, and rested his forehead against hers, his hands caressing her back comfortingly as he began to sing the chorus of "Cover Girl". When he reached "you're the only one that rocks my world" again, he felt her relax. He lifted his head and saw her smile. She raised a hand and stroked his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you more," Logan replied, his lips gently touching hers. "Even if I act like an idiot ninety-nine percent of the time."

"That's true," she said, smiling. "But you're my idiot."

"Always," he whispered, smiling.

Now they found themselves hugging each other, still lying on Camille's bed, his arms around her body, her head on his chest.

"I can't believe we actually did it," she murmured. Logan smiled. "And I can't believe you're already on the pill and didn't tell me about it."

She smiled apologetically at him. "Can you blame me? I admit, I've actually thought about the idea of reaching the next level with you. And lately things have been so unstable between us, you know, with all these fights and stuff, that I just couldn't see how or when it was going to happen. So I decided to play it safe, just in case. Turns out it wasn't a bad decision, was it?"

"Does your dad know about this?"

She gave him an amused look. "Are you kidding me?"

He had to smile. "Yeah, okay, stupid question."

For a few minutes they fell silent, lost in their own thoughts.

"Do you feel it?" Camille suddenly asked.

"What?"

"No tension. Just us."

"Hmmm . . . too bad."

Surprised, she lifted her head and looked into her boyfriend's face. "What? Why?"

Logan grinned. "Well, I don't want to be sound like an idiot again, but I'm kind of sure that this fight won't be our last and that there will probably be more in the future."

"Yes, maybe . . . But what does that have to do with . . .?"

"Well, should there be any tension between us in the future that will lead to other fights then . . . then I dare to say that we've just discovered a whole new way of making up."

Camille stared at him for two, three seconds, then she grabbed a pillow and hit him with it. "You're such a jerk," she said, laughing.

"I know," Logan said with a smile. "Your jerk."

"Forever," she replied, leaning over to kiss him.