He rested his forehead against mine. “I need to get ready. We’re together tonight. Just us. Okay?”
“Okay.”
When he walked away, I felt Kat’s hand on the small of my back. “That guy is so in love with you. Damn, missy, a sweet package of ass, face, voice, and those words he just spilled to you ? . . . Jealous here.”
“I’m in love with him.”
She laughed. “Um, yeah . . . Obvious.”
I gasped, flinging around. “Oh God, do you think he can tell?”
“Missy, he damn well better. You’re like maple syrup at his feet.” She snagged the two new beers from our table and passed me one. She grinned, brows rising. “To getting fucked by sweet and spicy.”
We finished our beers, and Matt came over and told us Torn would be on in five, so I started for the washroom, before they came on stage. I didn’t want to miss a single second of Logan singing.
“Missy,” Kat called after me. I looked over my shoulder smiling. I was buzzed and happy. Yeah, I was really happy. Logan was going to sing, and then we were going to a hotel for the night, and I loved him, and Kat said he loved me. I had five days left with him, and I was going to make certain it was spent with him in my arms. “You’re beautiful,” Kat called.
“Fuck yeah.” Some guy shouted.
God, I loved my bestie. And for once, I felt beautiful.
I weaved through the crowd then made my way down the hallway to the washroom. I never saw him come up behind me, maybe because I was still thinking about Logan, and my mind was thinking about him in a hotel room—with me.
It happened within seconds. I had my hand on the bathroom door, and an arm hooked around my waist. As I sucked in air to tell the guy to screw off, I breathed in a sweet pungent smell as a linen cloth was forced over my nose and mouth.
Then darkness.