Page 70 of Take It Offline

By the tick in his jaw, it’s obvious he got my message loud and clear.

Rent a Douche’s whole attitude changed the second I slipped my arm around her waist.

“Emma! There you are.” And now, suddenly, there’s another player. This time it’s the older woman Emma pointed out tome earlier. She tugs on Emma’s hand. “There’s someone who’s dying to talk to you.”

A tiny crease forms between her brows as she looks from the woman to Logan, then to me. “I shouldn’t be long. Will you be okay?”

I nod and give her a reassuring smile.

As she walks away, Logan slips a hand into one pocket. “I heard you showed up in a pretty nice ride,” he says. “A ’70s Charger.”

I take my time getting a look at him. Jesus. Everything about this guy is… too perfect. Lightly tanned (and he’s definitely the type to fake it), stark white teeth (if they aren’t veneers, I’ll eat my shoes), and a practiced laugh that makes me want to scrub myself clean afterward.

He’s like a Ken doll.

I nod. “That’s the one.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Must have set you back a bit.”

It’s so obviously a test. Get me to talk about money so he can prove whose dick is bigger.

But I don’t need money to win that bet. So I shrug off the statement like it’s not important, hoping it annoys him.

The truth is, that car all but cleared out my savings at the time, but I’ve made up for that now. Piecing her together with my own hands meant more than the money. I’ve had offers since restoring her, for two, three,fivetimes what she’s worth, and I’ve said no every time.

Some things are too valuable to give up.

There’s no way a guy who walked away from Emma knows anything about that. Dude hashit it and quit itwritten all over him. But Emma said they were together for a year, so what the hell do I know?

“How long have you and Emma been seeing each other?” He looks away as he asks, pretending to be distracted, and takes a drink from a passing waiter.

I see right through him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she walked away.

Hasn’t stopped looking at me like I’m shit he scraped off his shoe.

“Long enough.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” he adds, leaning in, his voice dripping with contempt. “It’s a shame. She really is perfect apart from that problem of hers.”

I’ve never wanted to deck someone so badly in my life. One punch wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Just a small one. Rearrange his nose a little.

She deserves so much better than this fuck nugget.

He probably approaches sex like a truck stop bathroom—get in, touch as little as possible, and get out as soon as he’s finished.

I don’t need a fancy education to know that Logan is a grade-A marbled-fat asshole.

“Problem?” I ask, faking ignorance. “Oh, you mean…” I snap my fingers and grin. “That’s right. She did mention she had an issue with you. Guess I’m doing something you couldn’t.”

Maybe I’d feel bad about throwing that in his face if he wasn’t such a raging dick. I don’t even have to fake my glee as his jaw twitches, his eyes narrowed on me like a bull’s-eye.

Good. I hope the fucker can’t sleep tonight, wondering how I succeeded where he failed.

Shit like that is a splinter under the nail of guys like him. They can’t stand having their manhood questioned. As if a two-pump chump like Logan would even know the first way to please a woman, especially one of Emma’s caliber.

Jesus. And she wants him back?

Reese is right. I am a glutton for punishment.

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