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"That was...intense." She picks up her wine glass and downs the rest. "I need another drink after that." She laughs. "You and Logan have some serious chemistry."
I scoff. "Don't be ridiculous, Rachel. We can't fucking stand each other."
"You can deny it all you want, but there's something between you two. And it’s not just hostility." She raises an eyebrow at me, as if daring me to contradict her.
I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. I can't help but sneak a glance at Logan from the corner of my eye, my stomach doing a little flip as I catch him laughing at something the woman beside him says.
"You’re not fooling anyone, not even yourself. You can call it hatred, annoyance… whatever. From where I’m sitting, it looks like a whole lot of sexual tension."
I shake my head, unwilling to admit it. Not even to myself. "No, Rachel. He’s... He's not my type. There's nothing there." I insist, hoping she'll drop the subject.
But the smile on Rachel's face tells me she thinks otherwise.
4
LOGAN
God, does that girl need to loosen up a little.
So prim and proper, like a white satin shirt with that know-it-all attitude. It's fucking annoying, the way she walks around, like she's too good for everyone. No sense of humor. Just work, work, and more work.
I glance over Aliyah, my date’s shoulder, and catch a glimpse of Bailey. She's laughing at something her friend said. Her blue eyes are lit up as she throws her head back in pure joy.
Well would you look at that... Bailey Thompson, the uptight ice queen, actually enjoying herself.
And surprise, surprise, it's not quite as offensive as I thought it would be.
In that moment, an image pops into my mind of Bailey loosening up, letting her hair down, that same laugh echoing in my ears without the noise of this busy lounge. I imagine her in a loose shirt and cute underwear, barefoot at the foot of my bed, carefree and wild. The image is so vivid, it's as though I can taste the aliveness in her body, see the joy in her usually guarded eyes.
I shake my head.
What the fuck was that?
She's fuckin' annoying, bro. Don't get it twisted.
I look at her again, her laugh has faded, replaced by her usual stern expression.
That's more like it.
Bailey Thompson. A woman with rules instead of a heartbeat. A thorn in my side. Annoying, ice cold, with a stick shoved so far up her ass that it's a wonder she can sit straight. That’s the Bailey I know. Or at least, it’s the Bailey that she's shown me.
Just as I'm losing myself in thoughts of Bailey, a shrill laughter pulls me back to reality.
"I swear, Logan." Aliyah throws her head back. "You're too funny!"
I force a smile. Her laughter fades into the background as my gaze drifts to Bailey again.
I watch as she gets up from her seat, a frown etched onto her face. She gathers her things, muttering something to her friend. I watch her, intrigued despite myself, as she walks towards the exit. Her heels click against the cold, hard floor, commanding the attention of everyone in her path.
That woman is annoying, but she does know how to command a room. She is confident, I'll give her that.
"Logan?" Aliyah's voice snaps me out of my head.
I turn back to her. "Sorry, what were you saying?"
She pouts, crossing her arms. "You weren't listening."
"Yeah, my bad. What was it again?"
