Page 37 of Logan
“That sounds so manly,” Luna laughs.
Nova approaches and my eyes widen. “Don’t say anything,” I hiss to the girls. “Please.”
“Hey,” Nova says, plonking down next to Stella. She thumbs behind her. “Why is Logan making eyes at you from across the room?”
Oh, brother. This was a bad fucking idea.
Before Luna or Stella can jump in and rain on my parade, I give her a watered down explanation. “We had some business the other day, and he’s probably looking for me to sign off on the papers.” God, I’m such a bad liar, but I don’t want Nova knowing. It’ll only complicate things.
She gives me a look. “Business?” Shaking her head, she adds, “Did you two bone already?”
I throw my hands up in defeat. “I swear this is the last time I’m coming here.”
“You did, didn't you?” Nova squeals, moving closer to me. “Oh, my god. I wondered why he was in such a good mood. I caught him whistling some tune this morning when he stepped into the office, and Logan never whistles.”
Whistling a tune? Okay, so that could have zero to do with me and everything to do with something else. Anything else.
“Let’s just change the subject,” I mutter, downing the rest of my drink. “I need another.”
“Allow me,” Nova says, jumping up. “Another round for everyone? Except Luna.”
Luna’s pregnant, so she’s on club soda.
The girls nod as I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I need to splash cold water on my face because I’m still reeling from the look Logan was giving me. It was dark, but hot, and other people noticed. Not good if we’re supposed to be doing this incognito. Now the whole clubhouse is going to know before I leave tonight.
When I’m done freshening up, as well as pep-talking myself to keep my head in the game, I step out of the bathroom and someone grabs me from behind, pulling me against their chest. Should I be shocked that I know Logan’s goddamn cologne? Or should I be mad that he startled me like that?
“Angel,” he mutters against the back of my head. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Logan
Something came over me.
Maybe it was the way my angel looked at me from across the room. It was a mixture of trepidation and a little confusion. I don’t miss the fact that I seem to know a lot of her damn facial expressions, as well as her mood. She didn’t look impressed, looking away first while saying something to the girls.
I’ve been an ass, but I also never professed to be a saint.
But seeing her disappear down the hallway on her own and have some of the single guys watching her sparked something inside me. I want them to know she’s off limits. That she is mine. Well, maybe not in the regular sense, but I’ve been going over this in my head for far too long already. It was time to take action.
I drag her into the office behind us and kick the door shut. She doesn’t struggle.
“Have you missed me?”
She makes a sound like one would when they’re about to say something smart. “Am I talking to the same Logan Dawson from this morning in the cafe?”
“Yeah, I’m not a mornin’ person.” I push up against her body, my dick pressing against the top of her ass. If I’m not mistaken, a small moan leaves her lips. “You look so fuckin’ sexy in that damn skirt.”
She pushes her ass back against me. “You’re an ass.”
“I deserve that.”
“I know we’re not a thing, but what a way to keep a girl on the edge.”
“Oh, I plan on keepin’ you on the edge alright,” I mutter.
