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The music from below drifts up, but it’s muted so I can actually hear myself think for the first time all night. I turn back around to survey the group. Kat has convinced Jay to crack open a bottle of champagne, and the two of them don’t even bother splitting it with the rest of us poor souls. They just take turns passing it back and forth between them while they sit on the couch, all locked eyes and pervy expressions. I swear Kat will pounce on him at any moment and then we’ll all need therapy from having to see it. She’s like a wildebeest sometimes, but from the look on Jay’s face, he’s not scared in the least.

Yasmine and Marcus are huddled together in another corner, talking low. He’s twisting his arm, showing her one of his tattoos, and she reaches out to touch it, skimming her finger along his skin. Well, I suppose they’ve hit it off as well.

Lucky how that’s happened.

I gird my loins when I scan the area to look for Logan. He’s in the middle of the room, sitting in a leather chair, watching me take everything in. It’s like he’s got it all figured out, like he’s somehow in control of everything I do even though he’s over there and I’m over here. I don’t like it, the way my body seems to be on high alert, the way I’ve lost my grip on myself. I know if I go near him, it’ll be game over. We’ll be as bad as Kat and Jay…so instead, I distract myself.

I peruse my food options over at the buffet. They’ve got some shrimpy things on toasted flatbread, some chocolate cake bites, nuts, and loads of other finger foods. I don’t eat anything; my stomach couldn’t bear it. Instead, I move down the line to the drinks. There’s quite a lot of liquor bottles up here. We could probably make any drink we wanted, but I’ve already reached my limit for the night so I move right along.

I tip back on my heels and turn around. Logan’s still in his spot, making my knees go weak, so I turn away quickly. Well, right. Now that the food and drinks have been covered, guess I should take in the artwork on the walls. I get to one of the framed pieces and am having a good look at it when Logan’s presence becomes painfully obvious behind me.

He’s apparently had enough of waiting.

“What are you doing?”

“Appreciating art. I mean look at those colors! The movement! The subject matter!”

“Right. I think that’s just the fire code information they have to post.”

Oh. Well that does explain all the words.

“I wouldn’t expect a brute like you to understand art.”

He laughs and grabs my hand when I try to make a break for it.

“What are you doing?”

“Avoiding you. I thought that was obvious.”

He frowns, and even that is cute. Ugh! Lord help me!

“Why?”

“Because, well…you…” I frown, trying to come up with some way to get my feelings across without totally scaring him off. “It’s just a bit much, y’know. Do you feel it?”

I quirk a brow, trying for lighthearted, fun mate rather than girl falling hopelessly in love.

He steps closer and grasps my waist with both hands. My body gets hijacked right away. It’s just the size of him, his huge grip on my middle. With him hovering over me, I’m cast in shadow, but so is he. I can only make out half his features, and it sends a little panicked thrill down my spine.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, sincerely.

“Oh, for a laugh?”

“Candace.”

“All right, fine. You wanted your lads to have a bit of fun. I’ll bet Kat and Jay are ripping each other’s clothes off as we speak.”

“I’m not sure. They went out to the VIP bar.”

Sure enough, when I duck around him to glance at the rest of the gang, everyone’s gone. They’ve left us!

Logan keeps hold of my waist and starts walking us back to the chair he was sitting in. I let him, because…well, it gets exhausting trying to keep a distance. I’ve only got so much strength left in these weary bones, and if he’s intent on having me sit down on his lap, who am I to argue?

“There’s plenty of other seating,” I tease.

He smiles and adjusts me so my knees go on either side of his hips.

Well, that’s quite a wonderful position, I’d say. It’s like he planned it perfectly.

“I don’t know how I feel about this outfit,” he says, glancing over me.

I’m tempted to cover up, but I force myself to keep my hands where they are, resting on his shoulders.

“Do you like it?”

“No.” My bottom lip pouts and he shakes his head. “When I walked in and saw you up on the DJ booth, I felt pretty territorial. It’s part of the reason I dragged you up here.”

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