8. Logan
logan
The moment I step inside the bar, I look for Thea. It was Tuesday night, which meant one thing: dart league.
I started this last year when CT, Stetson, and I wanted to start something at the local bar for something to do. I also thought it would bring in more customers to help out the new establishment, and I was right.
We had only two leagues, with a third attempting to get started as soon as they had more members, and it was one of my favorite nights of the week. My mom took Lue on Tuesdays now and would bring her to school in the morning so I could have this night out.
But I had an ulterior motive for being at this bar tonight, and it was to see Thea. After she agreed to fake date me, I was ecstatic for our date.
Unfortunately, something had come up for her, and she had to cancel last week. Which means it’s been over a week since I saw her .
I felt that loss more now than I ever have before, and I knew why.
The feelings I had been trying to repress for the last couple of years were bubbling up to the surface and threatening to show me and everyone else their true colors.
I was both nauseous and excited for that to happen.
I thought I saw something in her eyes when I’d mentioned needing her help. When I said that I needed her to be my fake girlfriend so Lue could get used to me not needing her, I saw a spark of interest there.
I want to turn that spark into a raging inferno, so maybe then she would feel for me a fraction of what I felt for her.
I was excited to spend more time with her, so I was determined to get that date to happen as soon as possible and convince her of it tonight. However, here I was, two hours into the dart league, and not once have I seen Thea.
“What are you looking for?” My brother steps up beside me, grabbing his beer off the table and taking a long pull. He just finished his turn, and we’re waiting on the other team to take theirs. Graham was up next.
“Nothing,” I lie, redirecting my attention to the game.
“You keep looking over at the bar. You lookin’ for someone?” Stetson is not good at subtlety, and his way of getting information out of me is obvious, but at least his blunt question was easy to redirect.
“Like you have room to talk.”
My little brother’s ears turn pink, and he turns his head away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Yeah, right. Ever since those Weaver sisters moved here, he’s been smitten with Annmarie. She in no way reciprocated those feelings, but it was obvious to everyone who paid attention that my brother had himself a crush.
“Okay, fine. Then leave me alone,” I tell him, reaching for my own beer.
In the moment, I take another quick glance at the bar, and my heart thuds in my chest when I see what I’ve been looking for.
Thea.
“Be right back,” I say over my shoulder, not looking to see if my brother hears me and, frankly, not really caring one way or another.
I make my way through the tables, careful not to jostle anyone on my way and find myself in the same position I was in a week ago, on the other side of her bar, waiting for her attention.
“Dorothy.” I love her name. I thought it was unique and pretty, just like her. But every time I use it, she gives me an irritated look like she’d rather never hear that name again, and because I am me, I want to use it as much as possible just to see that look over and over again.
“Cowboy,” she returns, and I let a smirk cross my lips. “How’s league going?”
I glance back over at the guys. So far, they weren’t missing my presence, but that wouldn’t last long. “I noticed the new scoreboard.”
We’d been surprised when we showed up tonight and found a brand new, electronic scoreboard in place of the chalk one we’d been using.
“Great.” Her reply is nonchalant, and she continues to restock the beer cooler while I stare at her.
Her hair is up in a messy bun. It looks like she just threw it up there, with pieces of it falling out around her face, but she’s never looked prettier to me.
I was in so much trouble.
“What happened last week?”
I’d intended to come by sooner, maybe without an audience, and find out what her real excuse was for missing our first date.
But we had some cows break through a fence over the weekend, and between rounding them up and fixing said broken fence, it had taken us damn near three days to make everything right again.
“I forgot about a meeting I had.”
“A meeting?” I ask, skepticism high in my tone. “At night?”
She shrugs her shoulders and glances back down at the beers again. I notice she’s not meeting my eyes.
“Well, okay, how about this week? Any secret meetings we can avoid, so I can take you out?”
Finally, her gaze lifts to meet mine, and I see how vulnerable she is about our deal. I know it’s not in her favor, having to move things around, lying to her sisters, lying to everyone else, and making sure her ex stays off her back. It’s weighing on her.
A song plays over the speakers. There’s no one playing live music tonight, but the vibes are still there when Brad Paisley’s voice comes over the speakers, and I grin over at Thea.
“Come here.” I wave my hand at her, and she looks up, startled at my change of subject.
“What?” She stands up straighter, and I wave her over enthusiastically. She can’t stop the small grin that tries to escape, but she rolls her eyes and walks under the bar where it lifts.
“What are you doing, Logan?” I ignore her question, grabbing her hand and dragging her behind me at a quick pace to the dance floor .
When we get there, her eyes hold a question in them, but I just grab her hands, positioning them the way I want and wrapping her up in my hands, pulling her close enough that my hat shields us both from the bright overhead lights.
“You didn’t even ask if I wanted to dance,” Thea grumbles, her hands holding tight exactly where I placed them.
I grin down at her, excitement coursing through me. “Thea Weaver, may I have this dance?”
“I don’t dance here, I work here.” I don’t reply, not giving into this stubborn woman, and Thea sighs before biting her lip. “Fine.”
I almost laugh at her grumpy voice, but I hold it in, barely, and start moving our feet together. I try to think if I’ve ever seen her dance here, and I can’t recall ever seeing anyone ask her to dance, probably because she’s usually the one serving people drinks, not out on the floor.
I’ve seen Annmarie and Juniper out here a few times, but never Thea.
I can’t explain the feeling I have when I realize I’m the only one who has, and I realize I want to be the only one who ever does.
Despite her lack of dance time, she follows my lead pretty well. I take it as slow as I can with the high-paced song, and I peek down every now and then to see her grinning to herself.
It fills my chest with pride. This was the right move. Thea’s shell is hard to crack. She’s been hurt, she’s had people she grew to love beat her down and prove themselves to be untrustworthy.
I know exactly why she’s nervous to date, to take that step.
Fake dating is a great way to get her to open up to me, to trust me .
She could trust me.
I just had to get her to see that.
I peek over at my boys, and they’ve continued with the game without me, and I wonder how obvious I’ve been about my attraction to Thea if they’re not even bothering me when we’re in the middle of a game.
But I couldn’t care less, I have this woman in my arms, finally, and I am in no hurry to rush us off the dance floor.
The song shifts into another, slower Brad Paisley song, and she looks up at me like she’s wondering if I’m going to let her go.
Instead, I tighten my grip, pull her closer, and move us at a different pace.
The tension she held in her shoulders during the faster pace dissipates, and she melts into me, letting me lead and hold her close.
My heart is pounding harder again, and I bend my nose down to graze the top of her head, loving that this woman is small enough to tuck into my arms, loving that she fit so fucking perfectly, and wishing that there was a way I could keep her there forever.
The song comes to a close, and she pulls back, giving me another shy grin I’m not used to. “I gotta get back.”
I nod and grip her hands in mine, holding on for another second. “When are we going out?”
She pulls in a breath and seems to be thinking it through. “Thursday.”
“Thursday it is.” I squeeze her hand. “No cancellations.”
Her eyes hold mine, something behind them warring over her answer before she finally nods and says, “No cancellations.”