Torn from You

Page 23

“Don’t need the money. Where’s Kat?”
I gestured to the dance floor, and Brett glanced over then rolled his eyes and shook his head which unleashed a curl that dangled in front of his face. I followed his gaze and saw Kat rubbing erotically against some guy, his hands up under her shirt.
“She’s going to land herself in deep one of these times. And I’m betting it’ll be tonight.”
“Why’s that?” I asked. Kat was always a flirt, but there was something in the way she treated men that I thought was different in the last couple years. It wasn’t like she enjoyed their attention, although she certainly looked like she did. It was more ... like she needed it and yet hated it at the same time.
Brett shrugged while pouring a rum and Coke. He plopped a lime in it then slid it to a young guy a few seats away from me. “Just a feelin’ is all.”
I noticed he was still watching Kat. “Why don’t you date her?”
Brett threw his head back and laughed. “Not touching that sweet ass. Number one, don’t want or need a relationship. Number two, overprotective brother, and number three, she belongs to Ream. And he’s back. I’d like to keep my teeth.” What? Ream? The guy from Logan’s old band? I’d never met him, but had heard his name when I researched Logan on the Internet back when we met and Logan had mentioned Ream was a friend of Deck’s.
Brett leaned forward, propping his elbows on the bar. “Better keep a close eye on your girl tonight. She stirs up too much trouble with Ream here ... He won’t like it. Don’t think she even knows he’s back yet. The band has kept it hush-hush.” The band used to have a large fan base in Toronto a few years ago, but she’d thought they’d stopped playing when Logan went to Mexico. Maybe they’d found a new lead singer. Brett took another order and moved down the bar.
Before I had a chance to ask, Kat bumped me with her hip and grabbed the guy’s beer next to us and chugged half of it. She ran her finger down his shoulder as he stared at her open mouthed. “Thanks, babe.” Her voice was sultry and sweet, and it was enough to have the guy drooling instead of complaining.
“Ream? You’ve been seeing Ream?”
Kat’s face fell for a brief second before she covered it up with a half-smile. “We hooked up, Emily—briefly, really brief, like not-even-worth-mentioning brief. When you and Sculpt ... Well, when you were gone he was around. Helped out, you know with moving to the farm and shit. I was upset, and he listened. Then you came back; I wasn’t freaking anymore, and we hooked up then unhooked. End of story.” She threw her arm over my shoulders. “Come on, let’s dance. It’s lonely out there.”
“Kat? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It was nothing, Eme. Besides, you didn’t want to talk about anything to do with Sculpt.”
She was right. I would’ve freaked if she’d mentioned Logan or anything to do with Logan. “Did you sleep with him?”
I knew immediately she had, because she completely ignored me and started jumping up and down dancing. Kat handled problems like a kid. You know when a parent is telling their kid to stop doing something or to put their toys away and the kid just sits their pretending not to hear them, but you know damn well he or she does? That was Kat.
“Come on, missy, we need to let loose tonight,” Kat grabbed my hand and yanked me through the crowd to the dance floor.
I liked to dance, and I was good at it. I could close my eyes and let myself go. The music thrived in me, and my body moved easily to the beat. Kat was more of a wild dancer, jumping around, swinging her arms and singing out loud. And if that wasn’t enough to draw attention the slinky, red dress certainly did.
My eyes closed as my body moved back and forth, hips swaying, hands sliding up and down my sides as I lost myself to Avicii’s new song. Heat surged into my back and I was about to turn around when hands settled on my hips. It wasn’t unusual to have a guy come up behind and start dancing with you, and if he could dance and didn’t push the boundaries then I was okay with it—well that was a lie. I still felt uncomfortable, but the images of what happened at Raul’s dining hall had faded and I no longer freaked out when a guy touched me from behind thinking he’d suddenly strip me down.
His thighs brushed against me as he moved closer, placing his hands on top of mine and sliding them up the curve of my hips to my ribs then back down again to my thighs. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from pushing him away. I could do this. This was my therapy, my way to convince myself that I was getting over what happened. I used to dance with strange guys all the time, but that was before Mexico. Now the feeling of a strange man against me so intimately was constricting, suffocating.
The guy pressed closer, his chest against my back as we moved in perfect rhythm to the beat. I could smell the alcohol on him as he leaned in, his heated breath sweeping across my bare neck. My stomach churned, and I swallowed back the bile.
I needed this, damn it. Logan coming into my life again had put me back down into a feeling of uncertainty and confusion. I just wanted to feel confident and free of all the emotions that came with Logan.
His finger pushed aside my hair so that it lay over my shoulder, and then his hands went back to my hips. When his tongue touched the tip of my ear I jerked away, but his hands were ready, and he tugged back.
“Tease,” he slurred and chuckled.
“Let me go.” My heart rate tripled as I struggled to escape his arms. “Stop. No.”
Suddenly, his hands were torn from me and I whirled around to see Logan shoving the guy backward.
“Hey. Fuck, man.”
That was the last word my dance partner got out before Logan hauled off and punched the guy in the face.
He went flying through the crowd landing on his back on the tiled floor. Logan stalked toward him his face red, lips pressed together, eyes narrowed, and brows drawn over them. Oh, God, Logan looked like he was going to kill him. And he could. Logan was a fighter; his hands were weapons and ...
“Sculpt, no,” I shouted as he picked the guy up by the front of the shirt. I frantically shoved through the onlookers, forcing my way to him. My hands yanked at his arm. “Let him go. Sculpt.” He’d kill him. I’d never seen this side of Logan. Even when he was in the ring, he’d been in complete control. This was out of control and so unlike him. “Logan, please.”
The use of his real name seemed to work as Logan turned toward me. I gasped when I saw the steel, cold look in his eyes. He looked dominant, unyielding and furious.
He dropped my dance partner to the floor. Three security guys pushed forward and picked up my dance partner taking him away, but I kept my focus on Logan.
“What are you—”
Logan grabbed my hand and pulled me through the gawking crowd to the bar. He pushed up the bar flap, then slammed his palm into the swinging back door then dragged me halfway down the hall. He stopped, backed me into the wall, and then trapped me, his hands over my head, him towering over me.
“Logan—”
“No.” He abruptly cut me off. I jumped, and he noticed. It was then I saw the fury slowly dissipate from his eyes. The lines around his mouth eased, and he drew in a deep breath. “Tell me you’re not seeing that asshole.”
“No. But he didn’t deserve—”
“He had his tongue in your fuckin’ ear.”
“No, he didn’t.” Well, not technically anyway, but even if he did, the guy certainly didn’t merit a fist to his face for it. “And even if he had, it has nothing to do with you.”
“It fuckin’ does, Eme. I didn’t wait two years to get to you only to watch some dick with his hands and tongue all over you.”
Oh. My. God. He’d lost it. Mr. Cool and Calm had literally blown a gasket. He was always in control of his emotions, even before Mexico. He’d hid them well, except maybe his desire. “Sculpt, I was dancing. With a guy. It wasn’t a big deal.” But it was. God, it was, because I hated a stranger’s hands on me. “I can dance with whoever I want.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and leaned in, his eyes dark, pulse throbbing in his neck. “Not while I’m still breathing, you can’t.”
We stared at one another, emotions rocketing with anger, and yes, there was desire. We’d always had that between us, and even years later it pulsated.
“Why are you being like this?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it quaked under his intensity, and Logan knew how to do intensity. “What right do you have to come here and start punching a guy I’m dancing with?”
He growled then backed away while running his hand through his hair before he came back and cupped my chin. “Mouse.”
“And don’t call me that.”
A quiet calm came over him. I saw the change as if a shield lowered. I’d recognize that familiar coldness anywhere. “I will smash through them.”
“Smash through what?”
“The Legos, Emily.”
“And I told you it’s not happening.”
Kat came careening through the door. “Shit, there you are. Sculpt, what was that? Matt’s furious. That guy you punched wants to press charges.”
Logan pushed away from the wall and shrugged.
“Everyone saw what you did. Matt is trying to calm him down, luckily you didn’t break anything. Otherwise the police would have to be called.”
“Sculpt!” A guy yelled. I looked down the hall and saw three guys coming out of a back room. “We’re up.”
“Yeah. Coming.” Logan chin-lifted to them and then turned back to me. His expression softened, and I felt myself melt just that tiny bit.
Logan being here was making my resolve to keep my emotions under control to fail miserably. His fingers slid across my collar bone back and forth, soft and slow.
“You still play?” I asked.
He moved in. My butterflies I hadn’t felt in two years started to cheer when a slow smile formed lighting up his eyes. God, why did he have to smile? When he smiled like this I saw the man I fell in love. It plowed over me, and I felt everything he’d once meant to me.
The back of his hand brushed across my cheek. It was a fleeting moment, but still it sucked the breath right out of me. I put it off to the alcohol, but I knew Logan could make my body lose itself to him with a mere touch.
“We’re called Tear Asunder now.” He ran his finger over the cleft on my chin. “We’re finally touring.”
This time my breath did leave as I stared. His dream. All those days we’d spent sitting in the horse fields, him with his guitar, me watching the horses. “The band is still together?” With everything that had happened, he was still following his dream. Logan never let anything stop him; he was determined and relentless. It was one the reason I’d been attracted to him.
“Yeah, Eme. I needed to do something to keep from coming for you.” He leaned in so close that his mouth touched my neck just below my ear. “God, you smell the same.” He sighed. “Let me in.”