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I watch as she picks up her bag, ready to head home.
She's smart, smarter than any woman I've ever met.
I keep my thoughts to myself, pushing back the feelings bubbling up within me.
It's just... her bluntness, her intelligence, the fact that she's not afraid to go toe-to-toe with me—it's fucking hot. And it's not just her looks. It's the way she challenges me, the way her eyes light up when she's working out a problem. It's the way she's so... real.
Right when I'm about to lose myself in this dangerous territory of my heart, she breaks the silence.
"See you tomorrow, Logan."
"See you."
"Oh, by the way," She adjusts the strap of her bag on her shoulder nonchalantly. "I won't be at the team meeting tomorrow with everyone."
"Why's that?" I find myself asking, my voice cool and composed despite the sudden interest.
She pauses as if contemplating whether to answer or not. "I have a... umm... date."
A date?
The word hits me like a punch, knocking the air out of my lungs. I force myself to remain calm, to put on my usual, laid-back demeanor.
"A date, huh?" I shoot her a teasing grin, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Who's the lucky guy?"
She shrugs. "Just someone I met."
I nod, my throat dry. "Good luck with that."
Now what the fuck is that?
The world's most foreign feeling floods me.
That's jealousy, bro.
I try to shake it off.
She's just a girl. Get the fuck out of your feelings.
And with that, she walks away, leaving me alone in my office with more than the frustration of numbers.
Just some fucking numbers, Logan... and just a fucking girl.
Let it go.
I watch her leave, her silhouette fading into the dimly lit office. A part of me wants to call her back, but I let her go.
After all, I’m Logan. The cool guy who needs nobody, remember?
9
BAILEY
Isit down in front of the mirror and grab my make-up brush. As I blend in my foundation, my thoughts drift to the date I'm about to go on.
Another disaster waiting to happen.
I sigh, wondering why I even bother trying.
