I Love You, I Hate You: Part 2

“Would it help if I walked over there?” Logan points aimlessly over his shoulder towards the board. “You seem distracted.”

I toss another, hitting the small red square on the number nine triangle. “Go wherever you want. You’re still going to lose.”

“Oh really?” He twists the skinny plastic between his thumb and forefinger. “And if I win?”

“You won’t.” He probably will.

Logan saunters to the high top table in the corner and leans one arm against the back of the chair. “But if I do, I want to take you on a date. A proper date.”

“Fine, but if I win, you have to clean the gutters at Sarah’s house.”

“Done. Throw that last dart so I can whoop your ass.”

I raise my dart and close one eye. I will hit that bullseye. I will win this game because I refuse to go on a date with Logan. Granted, when I tell Sarah about tonight she’s gonna argue I already have but that’s not what this is. This is two people hanging out together at a bar. If Logan wanted to bail on me to hook up with some chick I wouldn’t stop him because: This. Is. Not. A. Date.

I toss my dart and it lands in the tiny triangle near the bullseye on the number seventeen. I throw my arms up. “Yes!”

Logan slow claps, mocking my stellar throw. “Not bad, Dani. But you’re still gonna lose.”

I roll my eyes, shimmy onto the bar stool and cross my legs. “Mmmhmm. Your odds of winning this game are about as good as getting a kiss tonight. Next to none.”

Logan points the back of the dart at me and smirks. “So, if I win, I get a kiss too? I’m holding you to that.”

“Whatever. Are you going to throw? Or what?”

Logan tosses his first dart, never once breaking eye contact. I stare him down, feeling triumphant. He takes his next dart and throws, then does the same with the last. The corner of his lips tug up into a grin as he steps towards me. “Now, how’s about that kiss?”

“There’s no way—” my words die in my throat. Logan’s hit the bullseye with one dart and the tiny green circle around it with the other two. I look up at him d

umbfounded. “How?”

He steps between my legs and sets his palms on the wall behind me. I suck in a breath, holding it as every muscle in my body stiffens. He’s dangerously close and as much as I keep telling myself I don’t want to kiss him, I have to fight not to look at those lips. Logan tilts his head and presses his mouth to my cheek. “I know how you feel about me. Don’t worry, when I claim that kiss, no one will be around to watch. It’ll be our little secret.”

29

Logan

Danika is a hot mess. I should have cut her off hours ago, but with the exception of the wedding, I’ve never seen her drunk. Even then, I didn’t get to enjoy the ride getting to that point. Tonight, I took full advantage—not like that.

What I mean is we danced, she drank (I haven’t had anything since we left McGillicuddy’s), and I even kept my cool when some prick in a cowboy hat hit on her. I fully expected Danika to roll with it, too. The guy was good looking enough, she was beyond drunk, and he hovered close with one compliment after the other. When she didn’t immediately shoo the guy away, my heart sank to my feet. But then the guy reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind Danika’s ear, something in her pretty mind clicked, because she looked around, spotted me leaning against the pool table, and left that guy in the dust without a word.

That was the moment I knew she felt it, too. The inferno searing the world around us. With each touch, each look, the flames draw nearer. Sooner or later, we’re gonna get burned. Doesn’t matter. I’m ready.

If I play my cards right, I might actually have a shot at getting Danika back. Thank fucking god.

“Where to next, Captain?” she giggles.

I wrap my arm around her waist, mostly to make sure she doesn’t stumble and fall, partly because I like touching her. “Home. It’s late and knowing how you handle your alcohol, you’re going to have one mean hangover in the morning.”

Danika groans. “I don’t wanna. Sarah’s probably fucking that tattooed dude she started dating. Love her to bits but the bitch is a screamer.”

Danika covers her ears and shakes her head, as if she were in bed listening to the sounds. I fight a chuckle and open the car door for her. “Well, where do you want to go?”

Danika doesn’t immediately answer. Instead she gets in and stares at her hands. I close the door and walk around to my side of the vehicle. It’s not until I’m on the highway, headed back to town, that she finally speaks up. “Can we go to your place?”

“My place?” I ask, making sure I heard her right.

Danika nods and tucks her hair behind her ears. “Yeah. I… um… I’d like to see where you live.”