I Love You, I Hate You: Part 2

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it. This place is a blast.” I veer to my right and take a seat at the bar. Danika wordlessly follows, taking in the place.

From the outside, the Rusted Nail isn’t anything special. It’s like every other bar around town; it’s got a place to get a drink, some pool tables, and a dance floor. What makes this dinky bar amazing are the custom cocktails, the exquisite food, and the live band every night. It draws people our age from all over the county and I’ve yet to have a bad time here.

Tammy, one of the two bartenders on duty tonight, strolls over with a Corona in hand and sets it in front of me. “Well, look what the cat dragged in!”

“Please.” I roll my eyes and take Tammy’s beer, immediately handing it to Danika.

Tammy looks at me curiously but grabs another from the ice box under the counter and hands it to me. “I haven’t seen you in a minute, Harris. What have you been up to?”

I put my hand on Danika’s lower back and push her a step forward. “This pretty lady has consumed my every waking thought, but she barely gives me the time of day. So, I’ve been hanging out at her house after work, forcing my way back into her life.”

“Really?” Tammy crosses her arms and sizes up Danika. She’s seen me leave more nights than not with a chick on my arm. A few times it was her, but I don’t do repeats often because they get attached and I never show up with a girl. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. “No offense, but how did she manage to settle you down?”

“She,” Danika sits on my knee and leans against my chest. I wrap my arms around her waist. This is nice. “Had his baby a little more and four years ago. So, she seems to be pretty fucking important.”

Tammy’s jaw all but falls on the floor. “What the fuck, Logan? You never told me you had a kid.”

“Why would he? You're his bartender, not his girlfriend.” Danika reaches up and runs her nails down the back of my neck. I’ve never seen Danika act like this. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was jealous. Whatever this is, I fucking love it.

Tammy’s face flushes. She’s working hard to keep it together and massively failing. “Listen bitch, you may be the flavor of the week but Logan always comes back to me. Sooner or later he’ll end up in my bed again and you’ll be broken-hearted like all the rest.”

“Okay.” I slide Danika off my lap and stand. “Tammy, good to see you but I think Danika will get our drinks from Greg the rest of the night.”

“Are you kidding me, Logan?” Tammy’s ruby red lips fall open.

Danika smirks and leans on the counter. “Hey,Tammy?”

“What?” She growls.

“I hate to break it to you.” Danika reaches across the bartop and sets her hand on Tammy’s arm. “But your run with Logan is done.”

“Excuse me?”

“You see, Logan and me, no matter how much we hate each other, we’re soul mates.” Danika reaches into the plastic box on the counter and plucks out a maraschino cherry from the fruit holder. “You were just the bitch keeping his bed warm until I came home.”

28

Danika

“I don’t like her.”

Logan puts his hand on my lower back and pushes me away from the bar. More specifically, away from the eagle-eyed barwench. “I’m sorry about Tammy. She’s not normally such a bitch.”

“She likes you.” I huff, feeling like a kid in the sandbox forced to share my favorite toy. My eyes scan the room. We’re surrounded by beautiful women, most of which have yet to stop looking at Logan. An angry beast twists inside me. I want to punch all of them in the face, making their eyes swell shut so they stop staring at him. “Seems like a lot of people like you.”

He takes my hand and pulls me into him. “Can you blame them? I mean, look at me.”

“Since when did you start fishing for compliments?”

Logan ignores my question and twirls me once as the band begins to play a slow song. I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to the thrumming of his heart match the beat of the drums. I close my eyes, feeling the world spin and my inhibitions fall. Seems like alcohol is good for that. Pulling me out of my head and making me enjoy the moment for what it is.

Logan takes my hand from around his neck and steps back. He spins me once then pulls me tight against him again. I try not to think about all the girls he’s danced with while I was gone. How they probably felt the same nervous heat spreading through their bodies. Or how when they gazed into those beautiful brown eyes, he’d dip his head and press his mouth against theirs.

I look up at Logan and he smiles down at me. The song ends but neither of us move. The tension between us thickens. Logan’s looking at my lips. He inches closer and for a split second I want him to kiss me, but then I remember all the faceless girls he's pulled this same move on and I can’t. I take a step back and try to smile but all those faces, so many faces, make that hard. “Want to play darts?”

“Sure.” Logan takes my rejection with a grain of salt, probably because he never really wanted my lips. He puts his arm around me and leads us to the board. He swipes his card, because apparently bar games don’t take quarters anymore, then grabs the plastic darts from a cup. “Ladies first.”

“Look at that. There’s a gentleman inside you yet.” I toss my first dart, completely missing the board, earning a deep throated chuckle. I’ve never been good at math, which is why I don’t play pool. Apparently, I’m just as bad at darts.