“Please tell me you're not a student here.”
I turn, started by the richly English-tinted accent behind me, and immediately blush at the steely-grey eyes looking intently into my own.
“Because I'm pretty sure I can't buy you a drink or try and get your number at some point if you are.” He winks at me, and I can't help but feel a little thrill at it.
Uh, Whoa.
He’s attractive, in that sort of chemistry teacher way, and that accent is certainly hitting all the right points with me.”Uh, no, actually” I stammer awkwardly; “Definitely not a student.”
“Oh thank God,” He says with that charmingly English accent and an even more charming smile; “I suppose that means I can buy you that drink then.”
I can't help but grin back at him, feeling my cheeks burn; “I suppose it does, thanks-” I look down at the name-tag sticker on the lapel of his jacket; “Ryan.”
He chuckles and holds his hand out; “I’ve been getting ‘Professor Smalls’ all night, but Ryan sure works too. Quinn is it?” He says, peering at my own name tag as I shake his hand.
“A Professor at a student party, huh?” I smile as I raise a brow at him.
He glances quickly around with a mock seriousness; “Yeah, just don’t let the faculty find out, OK?” I raise my eyebrows before he stops and grins at me; “It’s a graduate student thing; I’m totally fine to be here.” He smiles at me; “Plus now I’ve got someone else over the age of twelve to talk to.”
We talk, and I’m listening to him, but I’m also stuck inside my own head trying very hard not to think about how this man is everything Logan isn’t. Logan Dempsey is cocky, and arrogant, and inappropriate, and vulgar. The man buying me a glass of wine and chatting me up here tonight is sweet, and kind, and charming - and not in that cocksure way Logan is. Sure, he’s a little fumbling, but at least he’s not giving me that look that Logan gives me when he flashes that grin at me.
Of course, it’s that exact cocky grin that gets me so heated around Logan; it’s that look that has me hot and wet and wanting him more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. The thought sticks with me, and I quickly take a sip of wine, nodding at whatever Ryan is saying. Is that the reason I can’t seem to cut Logan loose from my thoughts? Is the fact that he talks to me in ways no man ever has, or the fact that he’s rough and dominant with me that has me practically begging on my knees for him; sometimes quite literally? I mean, God, here I am in a place I belong making quiet, intellectual conversation with a kind, much more appropriate man like Ryan, and all I can think about is Logan. Ryan Smalls is here in his nice, quiet, proper tweed jacket with conversation about literature and current politics, but all I can think about is a shirtless Logan Dempsey with the ink of his bare skin glistening with sweat as he jabs and hooks around a circle of jeering onlookers. The man across from me is smiling at me and asking me pleasant questions about my job, but all I can imagine is Logan’s chiseled body, and that arrogant, sexy mouth opening wide to tell me exactly what he wants to do to me.
What is wrong with me?
“So then I said, ‘Hey, if we keep talking about Charlotte Bronte, and I’m gonna need some Erye’!”
I force a laugh out as Ryan doubles over at his own pun, and I’m just starting to think that maybe if I have enough wine, I can start to get Logan out of my head when the voice behind me drags me right back into reality.
“Oh hey, there you are, babe!”
I gasp and whirl at the sound of Logan Dempsey’s voice, and my jaw practically hits the floor as I see him, in the flesh, sauntering through the crowd towards me; “Hey, sorry I’m late, just got caught up at the hospital.” I’m standing there in absolute shock as he drapes an arm casually over my shoulder before kissing me on the cheek; “Hey bud,” He sticks his hand abruptly into Ryan’s face; “Dr. Jack Hoff, how’s it going?”
Ryan looks completely startled before he quickly and awkwardly shakes Logan’s hand; “Oh, uh, yes, hello.” He looks quickly between my face and Logan’s before smiling awkwardly at me; “I’m- uh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”
“Yeah, she gets that a lot, don’t you, honey?” Logan kisses my cheek again in this thoroughly un-Logan way before turning that shark-like grin back on Ryan; “I mean she just doesn’t look like an engaged woman, does she?”
I’m going to kill him, I think as my face turns dark red; I’m actually going to kill him.
“Well, I should- Uh, I should go find myself another drink!” Ryan smiles awkwardly at me again before he excuses himself.