Logan gets his feet, planting his feet wide and at the ready to block my shot. I set up for a big forehand only a few steps from the net. Logan is right on the net, and I know the easiest shot for me is to aim for his hip, so without thinking, I do. I whip my arm through the ball, crushing it toward him. He moves his hand to block, but we’re so close there’s no time for him to react. The ball thuds into his upper thigh and bounces to the ground.
“I win,” I whisper, all the intensity and focus draining from me in an instant when I see the look on his face.
He drops his racquet, looking slowly down at where I hit him with the ball. When he raises his face back to mine, his features are full of fury. He stalks around the net, coming toward me with purpose. I swallow hard, taking a step back.
“Logan, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“Sir,” he says, voice deadly calm.
I realize what he wants. Even though my body craves his punishment and his discipline, I’m acutely aware of where we are. It’s one thing to surrender my trust to him in Club Crave, where I know there are bodyguards within earshot if I ever need help. Trusting him in a place like this would be… reckless. One look at the barely contained rage in his eyes tells me all I need to know. I can’t do this. Not here.
“Logan, I…”
He advances on me and his jaw flexes as he grabs me by the upper arm, tight.
“You’re hurting me, please--”
Something in my voice gets through to him and he lets go like he was burned. The rage in his face drains and is replaced by disgust. He looks down at his hand and shakes his head. “Fuck.” He strips the tennis ball from his pocket and throws it as hard as he can in anger and then walks toward the exit. He kicks over a water cooler on his way out, threading both his hands through the back of his hair.
I’m left standing there sweating and holding my racquet, not knowing what to do. After a few minutes, I tentatively follow after him to the main entrance of the building. I find him at the front counter, hands planted wide as he leans, head hanging. He looks up when I step in.
“Here,” says Logan, tossing me car keys. “You can take my car home and I’ll have someone pick it up later this week. I’ll have a driver come get me.”
I catch the keys, looking down at them. “You don’t have to do that. I can still ride with you.”
“No,” he says coldly. “This was a mistake. You’re right. It would be best if we ended things before it gets more complicated.”
I look at the keys like they will have the right words, like they will know how to fix this when it feels like it’s already crashing and burning. “Everything happened so fast,” I say. “Emmaline, you don’t need to explain. This was my fault.”
I lick my lips slowly, failing to put my feelings into words. Before I have a chance, his driver honks two times from outside.
“I’ve got to go,” he says. “Take the car. Get home safe. And good luck with everything.”
“Will I ever see you again?” I ask when the door is about to close behind him.
He stops the door with the back of his hand, pausing, but not turning to face me. “Probably not,” he answers honestly.
And just like that, the door closes on Logan Steele and his involvement in my life.“At least you got to keep the clothes and racquet,” says Scarlett.
I laugh bitterly. “Quite the consolation prize.”
She pushes her lips to the side thoughtfully. I just finished updating her on pretty much everything that happened between Logan and I over the past two weeks. It felt good to get it out, but I feel drained even from retelling it all. Being with him was like touching a star. It was blindingly hot, overwhelming, and so intense that there was no way I could have ever made it last.
“Any word on the loans?” Scarlett leans against the single box of onesies in our cramped office. With all the debt piling up, I’ve completely run out of capital to invest in more supplies. The business is looking like it’s going in the same direction Logan and I went, the same direction things are going between my mom and Ronnie, and the same direction as everything else in my life has gone: a promising start followed by a devastating crash.
“Well, the money from Club Crave has helped, but I don’t know if I can show my face there again. Not after what happened with Logan. I can’t help feeling like I was a cock tease. I let him seduce me, played along, and then when he got attached I ran.”