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Yeah, they were going to be big. I’d known that since the day I first heard Logan sing. And listening to him sing tonight would undo me like it had before.
Did he think he was absolved because he let me go? Because he gave up his tour money? Because he did it to protect me? Because he was a victim of Raul too?
Yes. God, yes. He did deserve forgiveness, but I couldn’t forget the image of him looking so cold and heartless at me. Was that inside him? Was there a part of him that could walk away if someone held a gun to my head?
I remembered him staring at me, expressionless, as I fell to my knees after being whipped. He watched it happen. He let it happen.
But Logan had saved me. Logically I knew that, but finding that trust again … it was like reaching for an apple too high up in the tree.
Logan said something to the crowd, and then he laughed. It was the most magical sight. Logan rarely laughed, but when he did it was captivating. I couldn’t look away from his bright smile, his sexy bedroom eyes. I swear I could hear the women in the bar moan, and I was among them.
I was about to uproot my feet and stop gawking at the man who made my body ignite when he found me.
He found me with his eyes and didn’t let go. He was still talking to the crowd, but his eyes remained on me. His smile was gone, and even from a hundred feet away I noticed his hand tighten on the microphone.
Then he stopped talking and just stared.
My heart pounded at its cage. My blood pumped so quickly through my veins I thought I might combust. Logan was caressing me with his eyes and pulling at me to run to him.
And I did run—in the opposite direction—pushing my way through the crowd, ignoring Kat’s shouts. I was out the door before Logan sang his first note.
I woke to Kat jumping onto the bed.
Kat landed on her stomach beside me, alcohol wafting off her skin. Her face was flushed, and she was smiling ear to ear. I groaned, flinging my arm over my eyes.
“What time is it?” I mumbled.
“Two. Nope, hmm, maybe fourishy. And you need to get up.”
I pulled the duvet up over my shoulders and turned on my side. “Kat. Four in the morning? Not a chance. I have Georgie’s brunch tomorrow morning then five horses to ride.”
“It’s tomorrow, and you really need to get up.” She yanked on the covers.
“Kat, seriously. Whatever it is can wait til morning.”
“Um, no. It can’t.”
I groaned and pried open my eyes. “Hope I’m waking up to some hot story about you and that guy Ream.”
Kat barked out, “Bah. Fantasy fuck denied. Nope. Ream won’t touch me with a thousand-foot pole. Actually, when he saw me tonight, he looked ill, then he walked away. So, I partied with Crisis. Jesus, that guy is crude, but hilarious. Man-whore and totally fuckable.” She put her finger to her lips. “Why did I come in …? Oh yeah, your man is here.”
I bolted up. “What?” Holy shit. Oh my God. At the condo? “What? You mean here? In the condo here? Or downstairs and wants buzzed up?”
Obviously drunk and unconcerned over my panic, Kat shrugged. “In the kitchen here.”
“What?” I repeated then pressed my head into the pillow mumbling every swear word I could think of.
Kat fluffed her pillow and plopped her head down, closing her eyes. “I think he’s hurt you didn’t stay for the show. I saw him looking for you while he sang. He looked sad. Shit, I’m drunk.” She moaned and curled onto her side. “I tried to stop him from coming here, but … I’m drunk, and well … even when I punched him and told him you wanted nothing to do with him … he kept coming. Did you know that he has abs like a damn brick house? Shit. Yeah, of course you do. I think I broke my hand punching him.” She lifted it up then let it flop back down on the bed.
“You didn’t break your hand.”
Kat mumbled something unintelligible. I think it was some sort of apology.
I heard a cupboard closing and then the fridge opening and closing. Then the sound of something being poured into a glass. He was here. Logan was in the kitchen. I shoved the covers aside, shaking my head at the passed-out Kat sprawled face first on my bed, her hands and legs spread-eagle.
Logan looked up the moment I appeared. It was an open-concept condo, and the only walls that existed surrounded the bathrooms and three bedrooms.
Time was in slow motion. His eyes started at my face, dipping down my body to my bare feet then back up again to meet my eyes. He leaned back against the counter and took a sip of his orange juice. A wave of desire hit me as I remembered him leaning against his truck eating ice cream and looking so … so sexy. Like nothing in the world could touch him. I didn’t know why, but his confidence was a huge turn on for me.
Suddenly I felt naked in my pink flowered boxer shorts and white camisole. His eyes taking me in, it felt like his fingertips were reading brail across my flesh.
But anger could undo my embarrassment, and it did as I stopped a few inches away and glared. “Not cool, you being here.”
“Not cool, you taking off alone at midnight, drunk.”
“I wasn’t drunk exa—”
“You drink four tequila shots?”
How did he know that? “Well, yeah, but—”
“Then you were drunk. You should’ve had Kat or Matt bring you back here, Eme.” He set his orange juice on the counter, and the sound made my pulse jump. His eyes remained on me, never once wavering. It’s what he did well. He could make someone quiver in fear without even opening his mouth.
He nodded toward the bedroom. “Kat?”
