Page 9

H eads turn as I open the door. Yes, in walks the new girl. Next time I’ll announce myself better. Gotta love small towns.

The stares burn into me as I walk deeper inside the pub, scanning for Lana.

At least the music is pleasant.

I look around, still searching for her, when I get this prickly sensation on my skin. I realize, even though I’m far out of reach from Jason, I’m still a sitting duck. And as much as I want to believe he’ll never find me; there’s always a chance.

My heart pounds in my ears and the room shrinks.

Just breathe.

Slow deep breaths in, then out.

“Sora!” Lana saunters toward me, her black hair loose down her back. She wears perfect makeup, black jeans that hug her hips, and a stunning figure I envy. Her cute white top is icing on the cake.

“You look hot.” She gives me a hug as if I hadn’t seen her this morning. But that’s Lana. She’s always been a hugger.

“No, my bestie. You look hot. And I’m pretty sure every guy is staring this way.”

She takes a quick glance around. “Yeah. They’re looking at you, mostly. One because you are gorgeous and two because you’re their new piece of town gossip. We get bored around here and you just gave them Christmas in July.”

“Gee. I’m happy to help.”

Lana eyes me with a grin. “They’re not that bad.

The folks in town. A little closed off, but good people.

Come on, I saw a free table toward the back.

” She snags my hand, dragging us through a thick group of people.

“Mark is getting us drinks at the bar. He took me to dinner before, so we’re just now getting here, too. ”

“Where did he take you?”

“An Italian restaurant.” Lana continues shuffling us through the crowd until we’re standing at an empty high table.

“You hate Italian food.” I remember Lana having a gluten intolerance growing up. Never stopped her with chocolate, though.

“What?”

“I said… you hate Italian food!”

Two men who are standing at the high table next to us look over.

My heart takes a giant leap realizing who one of them is.

Logan, all built and tall, stands with a beer in hand next to a man I haven’t met.

That someone is just as big. But he has a darker vibe to him.

While Logan has tattoos, this man has them everywhere.

Ink snakes up both arms and his neck. His hair is jet black, like the midnight sky and you can easily spot the eyebrow piercing slightly hidden under one of the dark strands.

His green eyes reflect off his sun kissed skin, and they are intently glaring at Lana. Okay, so they must know each other.

They have to be two of the best-looking men here.

Both in jeans and a plain shirt that hug their muscles.

But it’s Logan who’s drawing my attention.

The way he takes me in, trying not to look too obvious, makes me suddenly aware of the warmth radiating from me.

The heat rises in places I don’t think possible and the way his throat bobs is weirdly sexy.

“Hi, Logan.” Lana smiles, but it drops to a frown as soon as she addresses the other man standing there. “Crew,” she says with an icy tone and slight snarl to match. “Fancy seeing you both here.”

“Lana.” Crew’s voice is playful, but his expression is fierce and his dark brows furrow as he takes a sip of beer, eyeing her carefully over the glass. “It’s a small town, remember?”

Lana scoffs.

“And here I thought it was only me and Logan on a first name basis,” I tease, trying to break the tension.

Lana snorts and Logan gives the tiniest hint of a smile before his face slips back into the same emotionless state as before.

Not knowing what else to say, I decide to introduce myself to Logan’s friend. “I’m Sora. Lana’s an old friend and I’m staying with her for a little while,” I state without giving too much away, given the fact I don’t fully know these guys.

Lana pays no attention to Crew, trying her hardest to focus everywhere and anywhere except in his direction.

That’s weird.

“It’s a pleasure. Name’s Crew. Though, miss sunshine already said that.”

My attention darts back to Lana, who just rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance.

“You have an interesting name,” I comment. “Never met anyone named Crew before.”

Logan shifts uncomfortably in his seat while Crew smirks.

“Not as interesting as yours, beautiful.”

“Can you not hit on my friend, please? I know it’s incredibly hard for you not to flash your dick at every female in the room. But this one is off limits,” Lana threatens while Logan shoots, what seems to be a harsh glare, Crew’s way.

Crew leans forward, muscled forearms pushing against the wooden table. “Don’t be jealous. If you want some of this, all you have to do is ask.”

“I’d rather stab my eye with a fork and plop it out. But thanks for the offer.”

Mark comes over carrying three beers. “Sorry it took so long. Can’t get proper service around here.” When Mark notices the guys and how close our tables are to one another, his posture goes rigid. “Who are they?” Mark asks, eyes narrowing between both guys.

“Mark, this is Logan. He’s the one who lives in the other half of the duplex.” Lana introduces Logan and him alone, leaving out a certain intense bad boy standing next to him.

Crew stares at him with a shit-eating grin.

Marks only response is a sour nod. “Good to see you again, Sora.” He steps over to my side and plants a kiss on my cheek, causing me to freeze.

Uh, yeah, not weird at all.

I don’t like surprised touches from men. Especially men who are dating my best friend. But I play it off for mine and Lana’s sake. She clearly missed that weird interaction, and I’m honestly glad about it.

There’s a thick tension floating around us and Logan sends over a calm but ominous glower.

“Thanks for the beer, Mark,” I let out. I was going to thank him for the good luck gesture this morning but decide against it. It feels off.

He nods. “All right. Shall we get this party started?” Mark slings an arm around both me and Lana, but I twitch my shoulder, hoping it gives off the hint for him to drop his arm. And it did.

What’s his deal? Is he hoping to hook up with both me and Lana? Yeah, that will not be happening.

“I love this song! Someone dance with me.” Lana wiggles in place and Mark wraps his arms around her from behind.

Crew slams his empty beer bottle down, already making a getaway. “There’s a blonde up front calling my name. I’ll be back, brother.”

There’s a slight annoyance from Lana as she watches him walk away. “Come dance, Sora.”

“I think I’ll sit this one out. But you two go ahead.”

“Let’s go, babe.” He nudges her forward.

They both shimmy to the dance floor, leaving me and Logan. He’s so quiet I almost forgot he’s here.

Almost.

I lean against the tall table with a slight wince, trying to take the weight off my feet.

“You okay?” Logan strolls the short distance over, reminding me of his soapy mint scent from before.

His light blue eyes peer into me like he’s reaching into my soul. It’s hard to hold contact long enough without my insides turning to mush.

“Uh. Yeah. Just my feet kind of hurt. It’s been a long first day.” Dancing had been a nighttime affair only. My daytime options included poolside lounging or tea with the wives, which was honestly miserable.

“Shelby and her husband are good people,” he says, taking a swig of beer.

“They are. I’m glad they took a chance on me.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear while Logan watches. He does that a lot. But it’s not weird. It’s like he studies me. Admiring me. But it could be my imagination.

“She was smart in hiring you. Your baking is damn good.”

Warm pride swirls in my chest.

He’s surprisingly holding a conversation with me and I’m afraid to make any sudden movements or breathe too hard, thinking it’ll end.

“Thank you. I take it you liked the orange scone then?”

He goes to answer, but Lana and Mark come back holding a tray of shots and Logan sneaks back over to his table like it’s his lifeline. Did I make him nervous?

“Drink up. There’s plenty more where that came from.” Mark hands me a shot first, then Lana. A pickle-topped drink remained.

“If I don’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get us drunk. And what’s this?” Lana asks her boyfriend, holding up the mini pickle, her face unimpressed.

I press my lips together, holding in a laugh, but Logan doesn’t find it funny. His features harden as he stares Mark down. Despite his limited emotion, the disdain is powerfully evident.

“It’s called a pickleback. You take the shot of whiskey then drink the pickle juice,” Mark tells her, like we should obviously know that.

“That sounds disgusting. I’ll pass on the pickle juice.”

“Suit yourself, babe.” Mark shrugs. “How about you?” Mark turns to me.

“I have to be at work early tomorrow.” I’m not a huge drinker. But when I did, there was always an uneasiness I felt around Jason and his colleagues.

“Just one or maybe two won’t kill ya.” Mark moseys his way closer to me.

“Okay fine. Why not?” New life and all . I clink my shot glass with theirs before shooting it down. The burn instantly hit my throat. “Holy hell.” I cough. “That’s the strongest shot I ever had.”

The one beer plus the shot. Yeah, my head’s already spinning. No more for me if I want to make it back to Lana’s in one piece.

She dances in place, bumping her hips with mine. I strongly chuckle while Mark smirks in our direction without taking his eyes off us.

As time passes, Crew makes it back to our group, who’s now chatting with Logan, a much quieter Logan if that’s even possible.

When the music slows, the three of us stand at the tables, throwing around the topic of our daily jobs. I skillfully avoid the subject, letting Lana enthusiastically discuss her artistic ability. But also hearing Mark brag about how good he is at being a massage therapist.

Go fucking figure. Pervert.

Why am I not surprised that it’s his career choice? Getting to put his hands on women all day. Groping them.