Logan Kade, Page 9

  I’d never had sex in a bar, but Logan made me wonder why not.

  “I got the hail.” Nate came to the table, interrupting whatever the hell had been going on.

  I jerked back from Logan’s hands, those delicious hands, and he laughed. Lifting his head, he asked Nate, “Can you drive?” His eyes remained on me.

  “Fuck, no.”

  Logan’s mouth dipped in a rueful expression. “Neither can I.”

  Both turned to me.

  Inside I was swimming in my beer, and all the gloriousness from my hormones. They were screaming Logan’s name. I gave them a smile.

  Nate shook his head, pulling out his phone. He shot Logan a look. “Mason’s going to be pissed.”

  “We could cab it?”

  “My friend is sober,” one of the girls piped up. “She can give you guys a ride home.” The girls hadn’t gone anywhere. Nope. They were now being helpful, eavesdropping on our conversation.

  Evidently my top lip lifted in a slight snarl, but I wasn’t aware until Logan smoothed it down with his finger. He turned, hiding me from their view as he asked, “You can fit all three of us?”

  “Oh, yeah. Plenty of room.” The girl who’d offered the ride was damned cheery.

  “Well…” Her friend sounded more cautious. “Someone will have to sit on a lap. It could be a tight fit.”

  “That’s no problem.” She elbowed her reluctant friend.

  I rolled my eyes.

  The girl’s enthusiasm grated on my nerves. She loved the idea of sitting on a lap, and I had one guess whose lap she was hoping for.

  But when we got to the car, Logan’s hand found my waist. A tingle broke out over me, giving me a shiver, one of the delicious kinds. He stood right behind me, and I had a hard time concentrating on what was going on. His touch was almost possessive, like he was claiming me, but I knew that wasn’t what he was doing. That wouldn’t have made any sense.

  The car doors opened, and his hold tightened as he said, “Taylor can sit on my lap.”

  Good gracious. My body heated. Hearing him say those words, an ache formed between my legs.

  Friends. Friends. I started reciting that to myself. Friends only…I looked up and caught his gaze. He wasn’t looking at me in a friends-only way.

  I gulped.

  Nate had rounded the other side of the car. He paused now, hearing Logan’s offer, and looked at us. He snorted, shaking his head before he got inside.

  The first girl had looked ready to say something, but her mouth formed an O. “Oh. Okay then.”

  Logan moved around me, and his hand trailed across my back, sending a fresh wave of sensations through my body. That same hand lingered on my hip before he got into the backseat. It was a small car. He pushed a bag and blanket to the middle between him and Nate, then held his hand out to me.

  This was…I didn’t think.

  The way he looked at me, it was hypnotic. My legs worked on their own, and I went to him. Somehow I perched on one of his legs, turned toward the inside of the car. I tried to sit up so all of my weight wasn’t on him, but he tugged me down. His arm lifted around my back to rest on his leg. I was cupped in his arms. I could’ve laid my head on his shoulder and curled into a ball.

  Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the fact that I’d survived my first week at Cain University, or maybe—I didn’t know what it was. But what should’ve been the most awkward situation ever just wasn’t. I tensed as both Nate and Logan gave directions to my house, but Logan tugged me back down. His hand went from his leg to my leg and anchored me in place.

  I couldn’t deny it felt good. To be there in his arms, and that both of them were giving directions for me. The same feeling from before trickled in again. I felt included—by Nate, too. I was drunk, but I knew this sort of inclusion was a rarity.

  The envious looks I’d been getting all night at the bar, the ones at the food court this week, in sociology, and even now from the two girls in the car—they wanted to be where I was. Now, where that was I had no real idea. But for now, I wasn’t going to question it. I was going with the flow, a very Logan thing to do.

  “Your girl have a hot date she stood up?”

  My eyes were closed, but Nate’s voice grew clear as he must’ve looked in my direction. Logan shifted underneath me and leaned forward. His voice sounded from right above my forehead. “Is that Delray’s car?”

  My eyes opened in a flash. Thoughts whirled in my head. I tried to remember…then I did.

  I was supposed to watch movies with Jason tonight. I’d just stood up my best friend.

  I groaned, falling back against Logan’s chest.

  STILL BAD

  TAYLOR

  Logan’s hand tightened over my leg. “You want me to come in with you?” he asked, right next to my ear.

  Oh God. The idea of someone else taking care of my business was so welcome. I wanted to say yes. I’d done so much in the last nine months: arranging all the funeral plans, picking out the casket, burying my mother, being the hostess when people brought food to the house, transferring to Cain U, registering for classes, getting my books, going to school, and even today, looking for a job. It was just life, but it was exhausting. I wanted someone to help me, but it couldn’t be Logan.

  I shook my head, feeling weak but determined. “No. I messed up.”

  Jason would’ve had a conniption if I sent someone in my place, particularly Logan. I owed him an explanation. He was my best friend.

  The girls’ smiles were brighter when they realized Logan wasn’t getting out with me. Both Logan and Nate offered a wave as I stepped back and the car took off. The little flirtation I’d just had with Logan was nice. Hell, it was like dancing with the devil for a moment. It was tempting—the promise of something great—but in the end that was all it was. A dance with the devil. I’d be blind not to see how many girls wanted him. I was also not deaf. I’d heard him at the bar when he said we were friends because we hadn’t had sex. Yet. Sex seemed inevitable when it came to Logan.

  “We haven’t had sex, and you haven’t called me an asshole or slapped me yet, so yeah.” He’d winked at me. “That classifies us as friends in my book.”

  Logan slept with girls. They got emotionally attached. He didn’t. Then he was called an asshole and slapped. That was likely the story of so many, and maybe if there’d been no Eric, or maybe if my mother hadn’t died in front of me, maybe I would’ve turned off my rational side and let myself go down the same path as those other girls.

  But there was an Eric who left me, and I lost my mom on the same day. I couldn’t fall for Logan Kade. I understood why girls did, but I just couldn’t. I wouldn’t come back from that if I let myself go. I wasn’t special. I was just like any other girl, and Logan Kade didn’t love. He’d told me that as well.

  “If I love you—and don’t get ahead of yourself because that list is really short—then I’ll do almost anything to protect you. Girls drink that shit up...”

  The writing was on the wall. “I’m not being cocky when I say that girls like me, they really do like me. I’m funny, sarcastic, quick-witted, and enough of a bad boy to make girls wet. If I like you, I’m loyal to you.”

  For whatever reason, Logan liked me. I would take that. I could make do with his loyalty. I remembered how it felt when he’d touched me, how his hands held me and I wanted to close my eyes, sink into him, and let his strength wash over me. That was the dangerous side of him.

  I shook my head. The car was long gone, but I was still standing on my front lawn. I had to reset myself, pull out the hooks Logan had put in me. I couldn’t walk in like this with an angry Jason waiting for me. He’d see right through, and when Jason was mad, he didn’t hold back. I needed to wall myself back up so I could handle whatever he threw at me.

  I heard the door to my house open behind me. “Taylor?” Jason called.

  I felt like I was zipping myself up, pushing all the raw and exposed feelings back inside. I could feel it pulling me to
gether, closing over my head. When it was done, I was okay. I was ready to go.

  “Hey. Yeah,” I called. “It’s me.” I started for the door.

  Jason gestured inside the house, moving back so I could get through the doorway. His eyes were worried. His face looked strained, and his hands had pulled inside his sleeves. When he did that, he was anxious.

  “I used the extra key,” he told me. “Your dad isn’t here.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement. I ignored it, going to the kitchen. I expected a note, but there was none.

  “There’s no note,” I said.

  His eyebrow lifted. “Is there usually?”

  No. Not very often. “He’s been trying.”

  Jason folded his arms over his chest and sat down at the table. He snorted in disbelief.

  “He has been.”

  “Not to be an insensitive dickhead, but I’ve only seen one note from your dad.” His elbows rested on the table. He propped his chin on his hands, still inside his sleeves. He watched me.

  “Well.” I fell back against the counter, hitting it hard enough that I’d find a bruise there later. I grimaced. “You are being an insensitive dickhead.”

  His other eyebrow arched, and he pursed his lips together briefly. “You stood me up tonight.”

  I flushed.

  “But I don’t think we should be throwing words around,” he added. His eyes went to the window, and an angry glower came over him. It didn’t last long—appearing, then vanishing—but I readied myself. When Jason looked back at me, his face filled with something akin to disappointment. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on me. His hands fell to rest on his lap. “You know...”

  Here it came.

  “Claire told me you and Logan Kade are buds now. Is that who dropped you off?”

  And there it was.

  “I was applying for a job at Pete’s Pub. He came in with a friend.”

  “Because that makes sense.”

  I sighed. “You don’t have to be sarcastic.”

  He shot forward in his seat. “Why are you applying for a job? Your mom was loaded. I know you’re getting that inheritance.”

  He didn’t get it. I shrugged. “Because.”

  “Because why?”

  “Just because.” My jaw hardened. “I can’t study all the time.”

  “Who’s asking you to study all the time?” He shook his head. “Taylor, I get it. You need to keep busy. And I’m assuming you don’t want to burden me and Claire with your presence.”

  A lump formed in the back of my throat. Maybe he did get it?

  His voice softened. “But you’re not a burden, honey. You’re my best friend.”

  “You have lives.” My voice came out as a whisper. “You and Claire. You have other friends.”

  “You’re our friend. You’re family.”

  The more he spoke, the more emotion rose in me. “I can’t handle people.”

  He gave me a look. “And getting a job at a bar is going to help that?”

  “It’s not the same.” There I’d be expected to do a job. Get a drink. Bring them their bill. Be nice. “Being around people and working around people are different.” They wouldn’t know or care about my name. “I saw Claire with her friends today, and the thought of sitting with them…” My voice faded. A pressure was pushing down on my chest. “I can’t do that, Jason. I just can’t.”

  “Okay.” He stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he approached me. “I get it. I do. I’m a loser, remember?”

  I frowned. “You’re not.”

  He shook his head and came to stand right in front of me. His hands came out of his sleeves to cup my arms. His touch was soft. “I am. I always have been. I’m gay, Taylor. People still hate people like me.”

  I wanted to shake my head. I wanted to protest, but he was right. So many didn’t care, but so many still did. A tear fell down my cheek. “Those people are assholes.”

  He laughed softly. “Yeah. Those people are assholes, but this isn’t about that. I’m trying to remind you that I understand what it’s like.”

  I was on the outside at the moment, but he’d grown up on the outside. My hands turned to grasp his arms in return. I squeezed. “You’re not a loser, and you’re not on the outside anymore.” He shook his head. The old pain I always saw in high school bloomed over his face. I squeezed his arms harder. My voice rose. “You’re not. I hate the gambling stuff, but I know you have some good friends.”

  He began to protest.

  I cut him off again. “I know you do. People are always calling you.” I frowned. “Unless those are clients.”

  “No.” He laughed. “They aren’t. You’re right. I do have a circle of friends at school.”

  “I’d like to meet your friends sometime,” I told him.

  His head moved back an inch. “You would?”

  Then I thought about it, and my cheeks grew red again. “Maybe later, or maybe one of your friends. Just one at a time,” I added.

  “My friends are better than Claire’s anyway. Her friends have their heads up their asses, smelling their own gas fumes and getting high.”

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  A half-grin formed, and he rolled his eyes, letting my arms go. He scooted back to lean against the counter across from me. “Claire’s lucky we deemed her our friend. If we didn’t, she’d lose herself. She’s drawn to those types of people because that’s who her family is. They all just think about how special and important they are. They’re like plastic—fake and breakable, honey.”

  I relaxed. When Jason started throwing out the honeys, he was being himself. I didn’t hear that word too often anymore. “Don’t hold back,” I urged him. “Tell me what you think of Claire’s family and friends.”

  He’d been staring off into the distance, but his eyes moved back to mine, and we shared a smile. Jason had always thought Claire’s choice of friends was poor. We were the exceptions, and in his head this was because we’d chosen Claire. That was the truth, sort of. Jason chose me. He saw me in seventh grade and told me I didn’t need too much makeup, as I was just what the guys liked. Then he saw Claire beside me, took in her heavy makeup, and raised his nose in the air. He sniffed at her. “You look just fine, too.”

  Her mouth dropped. She wasn’t confrontational, but that day she sputtered out, “Fuck you.”

  Jason had paused, stared at her, and a slow grin formed. It had been best friendship at first sight.

  “We all know how Claire’s life is going to end up,” he told me, looking around the kitchen. “She’s going to marry a politician who’ll cheat on her in some public scandal, and she’ll divorce him but not his money. Or she’ll marry some up-and-coming entrepreneur. If he loves her more, she’ll end up cheating on him. If she loves him more, he’ll cheat on her. That’s how it always goes with her. Either way, she’ll divorce him, end up with all his money, and have us over for margaritas.”

  That sounded accurate. “I look forward to the margaritas.”

  He laughed. “You and me both.”

  We got mad. We got sad. Now we were laughing. All in all, this had gone better than I expected.

  Then Jason sighed. “Don’t fall in love with him.” His eyes were solemn, almost sad again. “Don’t, Taylor.”

  “I’m not—” I started to argue.

  “You’re hurting.” He waved my words away. “I don’t know what happened with Eric, but you were with him for years, and then you weren’t, and you still won’t talk about it. I know you’re trying to put on a brave face and march on, like you always do, but I know you. I see you.” His voice softened once more. “A guy like Logan Kade is very dangerous to a girl like you.”

  My eyes closed. Everything he’d said was true.

  #CHEFLOGAN

  LOGAN