Page 123 of Snared Rider

Of course, that is the main thing he remembers from my meltdown last night.

“I said a lot of stuff.”

“Friends tell each other shit, darlin’.”

They do but I’m not sure I can tell him this. I’m not ready to bare myself to that level of shame yet.

“Beth.” He reaches out, his hand coming to my face, his eyes soft. “Just tell me what happened? Why were you drinking?”

I don’t want to tell him; what girl wants to admit to her ex that the guy she moved on with treats her like a doormat?

“I needed to relax.” I throw back his words at him. He had told me to relax, after all. Getting drunk off my face was probably not what he had in mind when he said that, but I had relaxed.

“And getting drunk was how you needed to do that?”

“No, but there was a bar right there. It was convenient.”

“Beth, talk to me.”

And I lose it. I throw my hands up into the air and snap, “I got drunk, Logan, I didn’t kill anyone. Jesus, stop acting like you’re my father! I was upset, okay? Is that what you want to hear? My head was so full, I couldn’t think straight. I just needed it to stop for a little while.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you or drive you to drink.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Fuck! As much as you think the world revolves around you, trust me when I tell you not everything is about you.”

This would be true, except my booze binge had been about him a little.

“Then what was it about?”

“I broke up with Alistair!”

Now, why in the seven hells did I say that? I’m coming to realise that Logan is a wizard. He can magically make words come out of my mouth I don’t want to say.

His brow works as he takes in my words.

“What happened?”

I shake my head.

“We’re not a good fit.”

He snorts. “I could have told you that. You’re so far outside that tosspot’s league it’s unbelievable.”

I stare at him incredulously when I realise he actually believes that. “I’m not out of his league, Logan.”

He growls under his breath and then grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. his expression is serious, so serious it makes my heart flutter.

“You’re worth a hundred of that little prick, and don’t you ever think otherwise.” His eyes narrow. “Did he make you think that he’s better than you?”

Yes.

“No.”

He doesn’t believe me; I can tell by the tightening of his mouth. “Fucking shit for brains,” he mutters under his breath. Then, he speaks louder, “So, he’s why you were chucking back Gin like juice?”

I let out a frustrated grunt and sit up in the bed. “No, I was throwing back Gin like it’s juice because I realised he cares more about his stupid work events than me. In fact, I don’t think he ever cared about me at all. And why would he? I’m just the daughter of a criminal biker.”

I realise I’ve said too much when I feel him go solid next to me. “He said that to you?”

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