Chapter 15
Serena
When Rue leans over, she whispers, “Logan’s here.” Her smirk makes me giggle.
“Where?” I ask, my curiosity about who he is with clawing at me. I want to see these hot, sexy seductresses he hangs around with.
She points to the bar, where it takes me a second to find him.
It surprises me that he’s alone. He is perched on a stool at the end of the bar where it meets the wall, his elbow propped up on the bar, his glass dangling from his hand as he stares contemplatively at it.
I’m not sure if he’s drunk, but he looks a bit morose.
My head is spinning nicely. The Champagne I decided to splurge on – not in any way to make friends, of course – has fizzed my brain into a nice lull of bubbles, extravagance, and sophistication.
“He is gorgeous,” Tiff says, looking over to where we are. “And older too. Shit, get in there, girl.”
I snort. “Uhm, he’s my boss.”
“So?” Her frank, blue-eyed gaze is serious.
“And fifteen years older than me.”
“I’m not seeing the problem here.”
Giggling, I shake my head. “No, I’m definitely not his type.”
“What, he doesn’t like shit-hot, nubile blondes?” She lets out a loud guffaw which brings a blush to my cheeks.
“I wouldn’t call myself nubile,” I mutter.
“Have you seen you?” Macy asks. “I’d give anything for your hair and rack.”
Glaring down at my cleavage, I have to admit, my curves have always been a draw for men, but there’s that thing that I’m not thinking about that stops me from being pleased with the compliments. I know it’s what girls, friends do, but it thickens my throat with an emotion I can’t quite place.
“He’d be a fool if he didn’t want to hit that,” Suz adds.
“You guys are so sweet,” I murmur, looking to Rue for help. Surely, she gets it?
Her dark-eyed gaze is curious and interested. She doesn’t back me up, nor does she push me on him. I’m not really sure what she’s thinking, not being the best at reading people.
“But?” Tiff presses.
“He’s my boss. I literally started yesterday.”
“Ah, okay, I hear you. That doesn’t look good. But still, don’t count it out for later down the line.”
“And he’s a bit of an asshole,” I blurt out.
Rue snickers into her hand. “That’s putting it mildly. But like I said, grumpy and sunshine are hot.” She leans closer, apparently now into this, after assessing the situation. Smart. “I bet if he were yours, no one would be able to come near you. Jealous and possessive.”
“Fuck me,” Macy moans, throwing her head back. “He can be possessive over me any day.”
The thought makes my blood tingle slightly, but I need to back out of this conversation. “I’m going to the ladies.”
Rue grins, knowing she’s pushed my buttons, and I smile back, so she knows I’m not pissed off with her.
As I make my way through the crowded bar to the door that leads down the long corridor to the ladies’ room, I shove it open and feel the cooler air hit my arms and face.
Realizing how warm it is in the bar, I lift my hair off the back of my neck, wishing I could tie it up out of my way.
Ambling down the dimly lit, dark green wallpapered corridor, my heels clacking on the tile, I ignore the door opening and the sounds of the bar filtering through before it closes again.
“Serena.”
Biting my lip at the familiar voice, I turn. “Paul.”
“Fancy meeting you here,” he says with a nervous laugh that does nothing to set me at ease. If anything, it alights my anxiety, and I fold my arms, wishing he’d collared me out there.
“What do you want?” I ask, needing to get this over with so I can pee and get back to the safety of my friends and the crowded space. The irony of that is not lost on me.
“I want to try again,” he says, his tone much more cajoling than it was on the phone yesterday. “What do you say we give it another shot?” He moves in a bit closer. He’s not sober, but I don’t think he’s drunk, either.
“No, I told you I don’t want to. Please just leave me alone.”
He reaches out and grabs my upper arm, hurting me with his tight grip.
“Oww,” I murmur. “Get off me.”
“Look, I know I was a dick, but we had something good. Why can’t you just forget about it, and we can move forward?” He shuffles in even closer to me.
I have nowhere to go. My back is to the wall, and he is blocking my way out with his firm grip. Dropping my arms in the hope he will step back, he doesn’t, his hold tightens.
“Paul, please. I don’t want to do this. Please just get off me.”
The noise from the bar grows louder for a moment before being cut off again. Someone else has entered the corridor.
“Come on, Serena,” Paul says. “We had a good thing. Let’s try again.”
“I said no!” I exclaim loudly, trying to drag my arm out of his grip. “Get off me!”
“You’re such a bitch,” he hisses, turning on me suddenly. “Fucking frigid bitch.”
“She said to get off her.”
The new voice is gruff, hoarse from alcohol but so recognizable, I nearly faint.
“Mind your own damn business,” Paul snaps.
Turning my head, I see Logan standing a few feet away. He is dressed all in black, his hands in his coat pockets as he glares at Paul with that same expression he had for a fleeting moment yesterday.
“She is my business, so get your hands off her.”
“Fuck off.”
Gasping when Logan takes three strides forward, slams his hand against Paul’s chest, and shoves him against the opposite wall of the corridor, yanking my arm painfully out of his grip. Rubbing my arm, my eyes wide, I remain motionless as Logan practically growls at Paul.
“Touch her again, and you and me are going to have a problem. Do I make myself clear?”
Paul’s bravado vanishes as he glares at Logan. Something has clicked inside him, and he’s afraid. “Fine,” he says, huffing as if it’s no big deal. “Have her. She’s yours. Don’t know why you want her anyway if she won’t fuck.”
Choking back my utter humiliation that he brought that up in front of my boss, in front of this man who has defended me and is exuding a dangerous vibe that scares the shit out of me, my hand goes to my mouth in mortification.
Logan steps back and lets Paul scurry down the corridor to head back into the bar. The silence is deafening when the door swings shut again, blocking out the noise.
Logan glances at me, barely even taking a second before he walks away.
“Wait!” I say, leaping into motion and grasping his arm lightly.
He stops but doesn’t turn around.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Logan turns his head to the side, looking down. “Don’t thank me, Serena. I’m nobody’s hero.”
You are mine.
I open my mouth, not knowing what to say, but no words come out. Dropping my hand heavily to my side, my other one going up around my throat, I think frantically of something to say.
“Do me a favor, Serena,” he rasps, still not looking at me. “Don’t settle for losers like that. You’re better than them.”
Blinking, not knowing what to do or say to those words that have shot me in the heart and ripped my soul wide open. “Oh-okay.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
He turns to stride back out to the bar, leaving me in shock, my mouth open as those two words resonate through my gaping soul, wrapping themselves around my darkest place, warming the coldest part of me.
Staring after him, I’m frozen in place, my lust for this dangerous, hot, older man shooting up a few more notches to a place where it is impossible to deny.
Jealous and possessive.
And I’m not even his.
“Fucking hell,” I moan. The man exudes sex.
It’s impossible to walk away from that now.
He flicked a switch in me that I didn’t even know was there until now.
“Good girl. Fuck. Fuck.” Falling down the well into a pool of arousal that I wish he would come back and take care of, startles me.
I’ve never had a feeling of lust so intense before.
It’s like his actions, and his words have patched over all my anxieties over this particular aspect of being a human.
Launching forward, just tipsy enough to make a complete fool of myself by going after him, I yank the door open, scanning the bar for my tall, dark-haired savior with the stormy blue eyes and scary temperament.
But he’s gone.
Vanished from my sight.