Page 36 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

“Hey.” Logan’s hand moved to my lower back again, and he gently pushed me forward. “What’s wrong? Should I have been more discrete about our room situation?” He spoke in a low voice that I barely heard.

I shook my head and bolted across the lobby, going the opposite way as my parents had. Hannah gave me a questioning look, but I shook my head.

Logan had no trouble keeping up. His fingers brushed my arm. “Why are you suddenly hyperventilating?”

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Liar.” We kept walking, joining a handful of people from the wedding party as they used the revolving door to get onto the street. “Do we need to make an excuse to stay behind?”

He was right about my breathing, and I fought to get it under control.

This hadn’t happened in a while, and I hated myself for the overreaction. I reached the back of the line and stopped. Courtney and William stood off to the side, and I wondered if Logan was going to fixate on her. Instead, he took me by the elbow and whispered right in my ear. “What do you need?”

I inhaled and closed my eyes for a second.

Relax.

I held the air in my lungs for three seconds, then exhaled. When I did, I pushed the panic from my mind.

Work was fine. I’d made sure before logging off yesterday. Besides, I had my phone with me, and my laptop was up in the suite. If anything went wrong for a client, I could fix it within a few hours.

Logan had seemed fine with the couch, and who cared if my stuff was all over the bathroom? He had a sister, and he’d dated before; he probably knew the drill.

And since when was I worried about Logan taking advantage of me? He’d seen me throw a guy off a boat; he wasn’t dumb enough to try anything.

When I’d released all of this, I opened my eyes and smiled at Logan. “Sorry. I thought I might have forgotten some work stuff, but it’s fine.”

“That was about work?” he asked as we slowly shuffled toward the exit.

I nodded. “I can be a bit of a perfectionist.”

That was the understatement of the year. Stress brought my OCD to the surface, and falling for a guy made it ten times worse. But I’d dealt with it before, and I would be fine now.

The look in his blue eyes said he didn’t believe me.

Time for a distraction. I snaked my arm through the crook of his elbow and leaned close. “I want you to meet someone.”

“Your other fake boyfriend?” he asked.

“No.” I went up on my toes and looked around until I found Greta. “What we need to do is get into the same car as that little old lady over there.”

“On it.”

I adored that he didn’t ask me why before he began to ease us through the crowd. Greta was almost out the door and would likely get into the next vehicle.

Logan gently pushed us through a small gap. “Excuse us.” Then we darted around a larger group. We almost missed our next opening, but Logan got there just in time to squeeze through and say, “Sorry. Thanks.” There was something about Logan that mellowed people out. Everyone stepped aside amiably, and a few seconds later, we were right behind Greta.

I tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey.”

Greta had embraced the old woman look, complete with a bright red top and lipstick to match. Garish gold earrings complimented a necklace that had to weigh several pounds. Her poofy white hair floated around her head like a small afro, and her shiny black purse was big enough to hold a cat.

When she turned and saw me, her wrinkled face split into a wide grin. “Victoria, there you are.” Her eyes took me in then turned to Logan. “And this must be the young man you told me about.”

Logan laughed. “Not sure how young I am.” He held his hand out, and when she did the same, Logan pulled her fingers to his lips for a kiss. “Logan White.”

I pretended not to be jealous.

“Greta.” Her eyes narrowed then darted to me. “Be careful with this one, he’s a flirt.”

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