Grace for Drowning

I sighed. "I don't know what's going on between us either." I could have lied, but I got the sense he wouldn't buy it. "But Logan seems like he can take care of himself."

"You might be surprised."

I didn't know what to make of that. Logan obviously had his share of pain and trauma, but by all appearances he seemed like he had it under control.

"I'm not trying to step on any toes here," Charlie continued. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Well, I appreciate your concern."

He gave a curt nod, and then was gone. It was a confusing exchange. Clearly he cared about Logan. Perhaps he was worried I'd be a bad influence? That I might cause him to slip back into old habits? I didn't want to be the source of any more trouble, but the longer this went on, the more sense I got that trouble might find me, regardless of what I wanted.

*****

The bar had grown busier as the week progressed. Logan's fight with Caesar was just a few days away now, and the anticipation was like a tangible presence hanging in the air. The crowd was louder, the drinking freer. It made for tiring nights, but at least it kept me busy. Idle hands lead to idle thoughts, and right now my head was full of an awful lot of stuff I didn't have any idea how to process.

The tension between Logan and I ebbed a little, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn't just forget what had happened. When we were together, I did my best to ignore him, but I found my eyes wandering nonetheless. Could I really see myself with him? It was a strange image. My past boyfriends had all been nice, ordinary guys. At the time, I'd thought each was amazing, but when I weighed them against Logan in my head, they all suddenly came up...less, somehow. I hated that I felt that way. There had been nothing wrong with any of them. Tom had been good looking, in a slim, hipster sort of way, but there was none of Logan's raw, masculine presence in him. I think I finally understood the allure of the bad boy. The man was dangerous, and that still scared me, but it was the sort of fear that comes tinged with a frisson of excitement, more thrill than outright terror.

The night before the fight, I was wiping down a bench shortly before closing time, when Joy sidled up next to me and nudged my elbow. "You should probably see this." The gravity of her tone told me I wasn't going to like what I found.

I followed her gaze toward the door and spotted Logan chatting to a tall brunette in a red cocktail dress. This in itself was not unusual. Logan received plenty of advances from female customers. I mean, how could he not? What was different was the fact that he wasn't rebuffing her. He had his hand curled possessively around one hip while she leaned in to whisper into his ear. What really got to me though was his smile. Logan was a serious guy at the best of times. Knowing what I did about his past, I kind of understood. But that wasn't the case around me. He had this way of smiling at me that made me feel like I was the only person in the whole world who mattered. It was stupid, but I felt like that was my smile. Only now it wasn't because he was directing it at someone else.

"Maybe he's just being polite," I said, but there was no conviction in it.

"Maybe," Joy replied.

Logan glanced up and caught me staring, and some of his enthusiasm leeched away. Was that guilt playing in his eyes? Or anger? He was so difficult to read, I had no idea. He swallowed hard and then turned back to his new friend.

I tore my gaze away and fled to the other end of the bar. Nothing had happened between us, and I wasn't even sure I wanted it to but, nonetheless, I couldn't watch that. It was irrational and unfair, but the thought of him with anyone else drove a spear of jealousy up through my stomach.

Joy followed. "Want to talk about it?"

I shrugged, racking a tray of glasses with more energy than necessary. "There's nothing to talk about. I guess I was imaging things after all." It didn't make any sense, but what other explanation was there? "Anyway, I'm fine. It's probably better this way."

Her mouth tightened. "If you say so. But just FYI, if you want me to beat him up for you, I'm happy to oblige."

In spite of that betrayal, the image of this slight little red head trying to take out that mountain of muscle brought a smile to my face. "Think you can take him?"

&nbs

p; "Definitely. He may be strong, but he's a guy so he's got a weak spot." She leaned in close, and in an exaggerated voice whispered, "It's his balls."

I managed to summon a half-hearted laugh. "Solid plan."

I tried to resist, but about a minute later, the masochistic part of me won out and I glanced back over. Neither Logan nor the brunette were anywhere in sight. My stomach sank.

There was every chance he'd left alone, but I couldn't make myself believe it.

Chapter Thirteen

Grace

The next night I was scheduled to work the little bar that was tucked into the corner of the arena. Ninety five percent of the time it went unused, but on Final Blow nights Charlie opened it so people could get their drink on without missing any of the action. It was my first fight, and despite my relative indifference to the sport itself, I couldn't help but enjoy the spectacle of it. The arena always seemed hollow and dingy in the light of day, but the swelling crowd, thumping music and bright lights brought it alive. Right now, it felt more like being in a big top than a bar.

The night was structured around what Charlie referred to as a card; basically a series of fights culminating in the clash between Logan and Caesar. Their bout was the talk of the room. Logan had seemed nonchalant about it, but the buzz around the bar said his opponent was serious business. He had a perfect record in his league over in Chicago, and it was rumored he was being courted by the UFC. I didn't know much about the sport, but I knew that meant he was no slouch in the ring.

Ask me a week ago, and I'd have told you I was excited to see Logan fight. Part of me still was, but I couldn't deny that I was hurt by his sudden back-flip. He didn't owe me anything, and I knew that logically it was better if nothing happened between us, but every time I pictured his hand around that hussy's waist, I found my jaw clenching.

The me of a few months ago would have let that send her hurtling toward rock bottom again, but now I was more determined than ever to stay on the path. I'd made such progress over the last few weeks. I felt better than I had in a long time, and I wasn't about to let one dubious moment between us throw all of that into jeopardy. In a week or two I'd forget all about it. I had to. For now, the mission was to stay positive and try to have fun.