Logan stared at her, eying her up and down, and then lifted the bottle in his hand and pointed it at her. “Why are you still here? Why haven’t you left?”
He watched her pop the cap off her beer and take a drink. She looked down at her hands, and her shoulders rose and fell slightly.
“I don't know, Logan. I don't have an answer for you.”
“Bullshit.” He set his beer down again, feeling irritation boil in his chest. “I gave you an out, Kass. I gave you an out, and you didn't take it.” He crossed the room in a split second, taking her face in his hands. She met his eyes, looking almost fearful. “Why didn't you leave?”
He followed her gaze to the floor. A tear appeared in the corner of one eye, and she tried to pull her head away. He wanted to resist at first, but then thought better of it and dropped his hand to his side.
“I don't know,” she whispered. “I don't know why I'm still here, Logan.” Her hands were trembling. She sat down on the edge of one of the beds, cradling the beer between her legs. Then she looked up, meeting his eyes once more. He could see the pain in her expression.
“I hoped you would have an answer for that.”
She was three beers in by the time she finally felt the buzz go to her head. It was an incredible feeling; one of euphoria and relaxation, a feeling she had not felt for days. Weeks. Months. She leaned back in the office chair near the desk, sipping the foam from the top of her bottle. On the bed, Logan was on his back, propped up on his elbows, a nearly-empty bottle of beer cradled in one hand.
“I told you about Ryan,” she said. “Now it's your turn to tell me something.” Her fiancé's name was hot on her tongue, but not in a good way. It made her angry to think of him, and she hated when Ryan made her feel like that. Which, granted, was most of the time.
“I don't have anyone,” Logan said. He, too, was buzzed, and she could see the muscles relaxing visibly under his shirt. He wasn't as fidgety now; there was no leg tapping or smoking or running his hands through his hair. He was just—there. And, my God she was enjoying it. “I've never had anyone that important to me,” Logan said. “So perfect, like you thought Ryan was for you.”
“He wasn't perfect,” Kass said. “But he was a catch. Or so I thought.” She took another drink of her beer, watching Logan's brow furrow.
“A catch?” he repeated. “Are you talking about men or fish?”
“Don't tell me there wasn't someone like that in your school,” Kass said. “That perfect girl with the winning smile and picture-perfect body. A girl who was probably valedictorian.”
She took the last drink of beer and tossed it into the mini-trash can, reaching for another.
“There was, actually,” he admitted. “My sister Ashley.”
Kass watched as his eyes traveled down to the bottle of beer in his hand, as if focusing intently.
Ashley, the sister he’d allegedly killed.
Or had he? He’d denied it before now, told her a story she’d wanted desperately to believe; but did she? The uncertainty was still hovering over her head, warning her not to dig herself too deeply into this mess.
Trying to ward off the sick feeling that was back, Kass watched him, sipping her drink, unable to avoid noticing the way his muscles tensed under the white tee shirt. She had the sudden urge to run her hands over him, to brush her fingers through his hair, to feel the muscles tense under her touch.
Kass watched Logan fill his palm with water and then run it through his hair, allowing the droplets to fall down his face and onto his shirt. It made her sick to think that she was noticing things like that. Her attraction towards him was wrong. She couldn't trust him. She couldn't like him. She should have taken her chance to leave earlier, when he'd left her there alone. She could be on her way home and Logan would be behind bars—where he belonged.
But was that the truth? Is that where he belonged? She didn't know. She couldn’t know.
Fighting with the demons of emotion that gripped her, Kass sat up. If she were going to be here, with him, she would make the best of it.
“I don't know if this beer will do,” she said. She stood up, swishing the beer around in the bottle. “I'm more of a tequila and lime kind of girl if you catch my drift.”
Logan looked over at her, dabbing the moisture from his face with a hand towel.
“You're awfully outgoing when you're buzzed,” he observed. “I feel like tonight is the first time you haven't wanted to shoot me in the face since I've known you.”
“Outgoing?” She smiled. “Ryan hates it when I drink. He says I get—flirty.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“To him it is. Apparently, he's the only one allowed to screw around. Not that it fucking matters anymore.” Kass set the bottle down on the desk and shoved her hands in her pockets. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself before her temper got the best of her. She paused, refusing to let thoughts of Ryan destroy her night. “I bet that casino across the parking lot has a bar.”
“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Logan said. He turned back to the mirror, running his hands through his hair. She had the sudden urge to do the same, but to him. “Someone could recognize us.”
“It's a casino, Logan,” she said. She took a step back before she did anything stupid. “The people there have more pressing matters than to watch out for me and you. Like, you know, losing money and getting drunk.” She reached up to run a hand through her hair, shaking it out. It smelled good; freshly washed.
Logan straightened up and tossed the damp rag onto the counter. His eyes were on her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt attractive. Sexy.
“Come on,” Kass said. She pushed her hair away from her face and smiled at him. “Buy the lady a drink.”
Chapter Eighteen
A million reasons why they shouldn't go screamed at Logan, but he couldn't deny her. Well, he could. But—he really couldn't. Not while she was acting like that: dressed in jeans that sculpted her lower half, a tank-top that didn't deserve to be labeled clothing, and her new haircut framing her face in the most perfect of ways. She was drunk now; cheeks flushed red because of the alcohol. Her eyes were glassy, highlighting the lovely gray-blue color. And that smile—well, he found that that smile could get the girl whatever the hell she wanted from him.
“You were right, you know,” she slurred. Her breath smelled of tequila and lime as she leaned in to talk to him. “I should have left him before it came to this.”
Kass turned back around to take another shot, making a face as she bit into a lime. She handed Logan his, and he shot it back, grimacing. He'd never been a tequila fan, but any booze right now was better than none. If he were to get through this night still sane in the morning, he'd better be drunk
“He's a good guy still,” she shouted, as if trying to confirm it for herself. Even drunk, he could hear the doubt in her voice—the buried sadness. The bar was loud, music pounding from the speakers above their heads, but he could hear it. “He's a good guy, but he's a whore.”
Logan couldn't help it. He laughed. “Aren't most men?”
“Yes,” she said. He admired the pink flush in her cheeks when she smiled at him. The glimmer of moisture on her forehead brought out the shine in her skin. Under her eyes, a tiny droplet of sweat sat caught below her lashes. Without thinking twice about it, he reached out and ran his thumb under her eyes, wiping the skin clean. Kass froze in her spot, startled, and drew back.
“Sorry,” he said quickly.
“It's—it's okay,” she said. She turned back around and reached for another shot. She picked up two and handed him one. “A toast.”
Logan glanced down at his glass of amber liquid.
“A toast to what?”
“A toast to freedom!” Kass shouted.
Logan frowned, trying to put two and two together. “I'm not sure the situation abides by the toast,” he said, but she only shrugged, ready to take her drink. “You better be careful, or you'll be tastin
g all of this coming back up.”
“Nah,” she rolled her eyes and giggled. “I'm kind of an alcoholic. It numbs the pain.”
He watched her lick salt from her forearm and shoot the tequila back. Even in the dim of the light, he could see the jagged pink scars on her skin—some old, some new. Too new. Suddenly, his good mood was gone. He set the shot glass down on the table, pushing it aside, unable to stomach any more booze.
“We should head back to the room,” he said. “Vegas is probably wondering where we are.”
“Party pooper!” Kass yelled.
She laughed, but Logan was no longer amused.
“Come on, Logan.” She leaned into him, swaying. “You kidnapped me from my town with a gun to my head and forced me to drive you across two states. The least you could do is let me enjoy one night.”
She turned away then, spotting the dance floor, and he looked around warily, expecting someone had heard that. No one bothered to look in their direction.
“Seriously, Kass,” he called. “This isn't a good idea. Let's go back to the room and put you to bed.”
His desire to protect her, to keep her safe, was overwhelming. It was no longer about his own safety and well-being—now he was looking out for her, and she was making it difficult.
“You're just no fun at all!” Kass called. Ignoring his protests, she kept on walking, stumbling forward. He almost followed her, but he resisted. The last thing they needed was some dramatic scene to draw attention. He held himself back instead, keeping his eyes pinned to her as she made her way onto the dance floor. A younger man with a buzz cut and a bottle of beer in one hand spotted her and took his chance. He rested one hand on Kass's waist, grinding up on her as she swayed to the music. She had her eyes closed, lost in the moment, and Logan felt his temper flare as he watched the guy's hand travel down her back. He forced himself to stay calm, tried to resist the urge to give a shit. She was Kass. She was an adult. And besides, she wasn't his to—
“Let go of me!” Her voice rose above the commotion, and Logan’s eyes narrowed, gaze on the man pressing his body into Kass’s. Kass was struggling to pull away. No longer did she look like she was enjoying herself as the kid groped her, a disgusting grin on his face. Fury boiling in his chest, Logan pushed himself away from the bar counter and forced his way through the tangles of people.
“Hey dude,” he called. “Fuck off.”
He reached out one hand to offer it to Kass to lead her away, but he was surprised when he was met with a fight.
“Fuck you,” the kid said, and he shoved Logan's hand away, grabbing Kass for himself as he yanked her to the side. Logan lunged forward, seizing the guy by the front of his shirt. The move took the guy by surprise, and he nearly fell as Logan pulled him right off his feet and shoved him hard, watching the kid collide with a table seating a handful of girls. A couple of the women shrieked, jumping up from their seats as the entire table of drinks toppled over. A few glasses hit the ground, shattering into pieces on the hard floor. Kass was looking on, horrified, but he was too riled up to stop now.
“You son of a bitch!” The kid whirled around on Logan, his fist aimed, ready for battle. Logan dodged the first swing, ducking as the kid's drunken movements flailed around harmlessly. He watched the guy brawl straight into a sitting bar stool, falling to his knees this time as he head-butted the bar.
“Your drunk ass isn’t worth it,” Logan said. He was desperate to show Kass that he wasn't the asshole she thought he was. He wanted to be the one person in her life that could change her attitude for the better—but beating the shit out of some random guy was the last thing he needed to prove that.
Logan was caught off guard as the kid got to his feet in a flash, running straight for him. This time, Logan felt a shooting pain as the dude's fist connected with his nose. He rocked back on his heels, shocked, but now even angrier. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?”
“Logan!” Kass shouted somewhere behind him. “Knock it off!”
Now, he wasn’t in the forgiving mood, and Logan felt a thrill of satisfaction as his fist connected with the pervert's mouth, making the kid double over in pain. Before he could get another hit, he felt someone grab him from behind, pulling him away.
“It’s not worth it,” Kass said in his ear. Her hands were on his arm, tugging him towards the exit, desperate to get them out of there.
“Hey, man, leaving already?” the kid called, straightening up. “I don't think I'm done with your whore.”
This time, Logan was caught off guard when Kass released his arm and spun around, eyes flaming. He made a frantic attempt to grab her and pull her back, but he was seconds too late. He looked on in shock as Kass reeled her arm back like a pitcher on a baseball field and then let it snap forward, her fist connecting impressively with the kid's nose. For being stumbling drunk, her aim was perfect.
Logan watched as the guy crashed backward into another table before hitting the ground with a painful sounding crunch. Even then, with the kid groaning on the ground, Logan had to make another grab so she wouldn't go after him again. He caught her wrist, pulling her away from the floor and out the door. He tried to ignore the stares of the crowded bar as they all watched him lead Kass away. She cradled her fist in against her chest, silent, as Logan pushed her through the motel room door, knowing they’d made such a scene that paranoia started beating in his chest. Once inside, she spun on him, her eyes becoming level with his as he steadied her. There was a fire in her eyes, a woman daring him to try something—anything—just to give her an excuse to punch him out, too.
“I hate people like that,” she said. “I fucking hate them! They're pigs!”
There was a moment of silence, and he watched her close her eyes and take a steadying breath to compose herself. When she opened them again, he could see a little tear appearing, misting her blue-gray color over. He reached up and wiped it away as it slipped down her cheek. She sniffed once, nibbling her bottom lip as he took her injured hand in his and looked it over, hoping she hadn't broken it.
“You'll have a bruise,” he said after a moment. “But I don't think you broke anything.”
“A broken hand would have been worth it,” Kass said, and he knew she wasn't kidding. This girl wasn't one to back down from a fight, whatever the consequences may be.
“We should ice it,” Logan said, but by now, Kass's attention was elsewhere. He watched her put her head in her hands and take a deep breath. She was shaking.
“It helps me,” she said. Her voice broke, and she looked up at him, her misty eyes meeting his. “Cutting. Drinking. It's always helped me. It's my—escape.”
“Talk to me, Kass.”
She wiped a tear from her eye and looked down at the floor. “Too many things to count,” she said. Another tear slid down her cheek, and he felt his heart fill with sadness.
“You're an emotional drunk,” he said, resting his finger on her lips. “You need to relax and take a deep breath.”
He was caught off guard when she grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, pulling him into her. He was about to untangle himself from her grip when she stood up on her tiptoes and put her lips to his. Shock sizzled through him as they touched, and he leaned in, suddenly hungry, his breath catching in his throat.
“No,” Kass said. She put her hands up and pushed him back. “I'm sorry.”
Trying to catch his breath, Logan watched her raise her fingers to her lips, touching them.
“I'm so sorry,” she said again. “I have a fiancé waiting for me at home. Even if he is an asshole, even if he is a cheater, I still—I still have a life. I didn't mean to—”
“You’re right,” Logan said. “You’re right.” He stepped back from her, feeling his throat tighten. Kass stared at him for a second, and then stepped forward, placing one hand on his bicep.
“Unless…” she murmured, and Logan almost leaned in again to kiss her.
At the last moment, however, he pushed her gently back.
/> “We can’t do this,” he said. “You’re drunk.”
“So what?” Kass demanded. “This is what I want.” She reached for him again, but Logan caught her arms in his grip and held her.
“Sleep on it.”
Logan woke early the next morning with a splitting headache that seemed to engulf him from the tip of his head to his toes. He sat up, ignoring the gross taste of old booze in his mouth. On the other bed across the room, Kass was still asleep face-down on the mattress. She was snoring softly, and despite himself, Logan smiled.
Pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt, Logan grabbed a room key, some money, and walked across the parking lot to get them breakfast. He got a box of donuts, some chocolate milk, and a few aspirin before walking back to the room to take a shower, nibbling on one of the donuts as he went. He expected Kass to still be asleep when he got back, but he found her filling a glass with water as he let himself back into the room.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, offering her some aspirin. Kass rolled her eyes and gulped some water.
“I’ve been better,” she said. “But I’ve also been worse.”
“I’m going to take a shower,” Logan said. He set the food down on the desk and smiled at her. Kass’s eyes were on his back as Logan headed for the bathroom. He was about to reach for the door handle when she spoke.
“I slept,” she said. He stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her.
“What?”
“I slept,” she said. “You told me to sleep on it, and I did.”
“Kass—” he started, but she had already crossed the room, closing the distance between them.
“I slept,” she said again. “That’s all you asked of me.”
“I don’t think—”
She smelled so sweet, a mixture of sugar and mint as he lowered his lips to hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she embraced him, closing her eyes. Logan allowed his fingers to trail down her neck, and then her shoulders. The tank top she wore was thin and flimsy. For a moment, he wondered if he was getting ahead of himself, and he almost stepped back. But then he saw Kass take half a step back and raise her arms in the air. He met her eyes, and she smiled at him. All at once, a thousand unfamiliar emotions rose in Logan's body. He reached out, fingers grabbing desperately for the bottom of her shirt as he pulled it up and over her head, exposing a black lacy bra.
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