Wild(51)

            I had wondered if he’d noticed me all those times we were within each other’s radius. We spoke little, but of course I had noticed him. Just like every other red-blooded female with a pulse. I felt his energy like electricity on the air. Apparently he had noticed me.

            I was almost afraid to know . . . to ask what he saw in me all those months ago when I was still with Harris. I had been a shadow of myself then, around Harris, swallowed up like a sparrow in a storm.

            “I saw you.” He nodded. “At first I thought you were some princess, indifferent to the fact that your boyfriend was a dick.”

            I flinched, not liking this description of myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Reece’s birthday dinner. We went to Gino’s, remember? We all sat at a big table. It was really crowded that night and they were understaffed. The waiter was stressed, trying his best to get orders out. Harris treated him like some fucking peon.” He shook his head, his lip curling. “The way he talked down to him . . . you were uncomfortable. I could see it in your face, the way you would touch his arm trying to calm him down.”

            I inhaled as he painted this image, filling in my memory with strokes of color. I remembered that night as one of several uncomfortable instances when Harris’s superior attitude boiled over onto some unfortunate soul. I knew Logan had been there, but I didn’t remember him even talking to me then, much less watching me. But then I’d been preoccupied. Harris had been in a mood. He wasn’t especially a fan of my friends, and the waiter suffered for that. It embarrassed me now that I could be with anyone like that.

            Logan continued, “When we got up to leave he didn’t tip him. Remember? You questioned him and he said he didn’t tip for shitty service. Right there in front everyone. No regrets for stiffing the waiter.”

            I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. God. Harris really was an entitled ass. I inhaled. “You must have thought I was pathetic . . . dating a guy like him.”

            “Maybe for a minute there I did, but then you said you had to go back to the restroom. I had to go, too. I was a few feet behind you and I saw you”—his voice dipped to a quiet murmur—“I saw you go back and dig in your purse and drop that money on the table.”

            I remembered that. I’d been relieved I had cash on me. “So you saw that. So what?”

            “I’m sure you’ve heard that saying. ‘Character is what you do when no one’s looking.’ Well, I was looking, Georgia. And I’ve been looking ever since. The same girl who wouldn’t let Harris stiff that waiter is the same girl who cleaned up this mess last night. You did it for me.” His gaze locked on me then with an intensity that made my chest swell. “Because you like me.”

            A thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach at the way he looked at me. I felt like a deer caught in headlights. Denial was impossible. I didn’t have it in me to lie. “I have to meet someone,” I said hurriedly, suddenly overwhelmed at the idea that I’d been on his radar all this time. Even before I kissed him outside the kink club.

            “Sure. Don’t want to be late.” He stepped aside and waved me through the kitchen.

            My fingers nervously flexed on the strap of my messenger bag. Something had changed. He wasn’t the same. There was a new resolve in his eyes, a firmness to his voice that made me uneasy.

            Suddenly his previous promise to leave me alone didn’t feel like such a promise anymore. At least not one I believed. No. As I walked past the counter toward the exit, I felt his stare on my back and didn’t feel safe with the assurance that it was “all on me.” For some reason, I felt certain that Logan was done waiting for me to make the first move.





            Chapter 12