<div style="text-align: center">The second she glanced at him, Katherine had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. One that told her she was hopelessly fucked. The sprawl of his tattoos across his tanned flesh was pleasing to the eye, drawing her attention and keeping her raptly focused for much longer than she'd ever be willing to admit aloud. Gaze drawn slowly towards the names that lingered in different expanses, Katherine felt her curiosity slowly build, the bricks in the walls she'd built between them beginning to come loose. She tried with a vicious intensity, but she couldn't even remember how she'd been found. Just a flash of them in the hallway right before her room, Logan's arm protectively and steadily curled at her waist to hold her on her feet. <br/>
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The distant click of the air conditioning of the house, the air drifting suddenly and coldly against her damp legs, had Katherine stiffening and turning to snatch up the clothes provided for her. She's about to analyze them and then go change when his words redraw her focus. "It's fine, I definitely understand." Trying, in a valiant effort, to not look at the muscled expanse of body presented to her, she considers the question for a moment. When the party started downstairs, her immediate answer at the end of this scenario would've been a, 'Yeah, pretty much. Have a good night.' But somehow, Katherine was seeing Logan in a different light. And she was undoubtedly sure that if she didn't pursue this particular light, she would be bound to regret it at some point. Fortunately, the more she stood around and dawdled, the more the sobering effects of the shower seemed to awaken her senses that'd been taking a momentary vacation.<br/>
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"I mean, if you'd like to go grab some clothes from Matt's room, I'm almost positive he's in a room downstairs with some girl. Otherwise, I kind of... er, figured.. that you'd stay here." The words come out in a rush, her hazel gaze flickering between the cream carpet of her room and Logan's own startling eyes. "You can't drink and drive," she says on a whim, "And the couch will likely be taken tonight. So..." Swallowing thickly, she presses on, her grip on the towel almost white-knuckled. "If you want, y-you're welcome to crash in here. It'll be quiet and you have less of a chance of some drunk stumbling in on you." If the drunken guy pressing on her earlier hadn't bothered her at the time, it seemed to return to haunt her then, the idea of another inebriated fool encroaching upon her personal space causing her heart to skip a beat. For some god-awful and odd reason, the doors in the interior of their house didn't have locks on them. But it was a lot less likely for the stumbling people downstairs to make it upstairs and down the hall to Katherine's room, which was the plus-side.<br/>
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Unable to hold his gaze any longer, hers locked on a place somewhere near the bottom of the dresser behind him as she decidedly stuck around to hear his answer. Her clothes still held tightly to her chest, the other hand wound in the towel to hold it against her breasts, the young woman was more focused on their conversation than the state of her undress.​</div>