Page 6 of Pucking Fake

"Hey," Serena says, suddenly materializing at my side, concern written all over her heart-shaped face. "I saw what happened. Are you okay?"

"Um, hi," I squeak, trying to put a little space between myself and Logan. It's a useless attempt because as soon as I create space, he closes it with a little frown. "I'm fine."

"What an asshole," Serena mutters before glancing at Logan. "Thanks for saving her."

"She did that herself," Logan says, his eyes still locked on me.

"Um, Serena, this is Logan Moreno. Logan, this is Serena Moss."

"Hey." Logan barely even glances at her.

"Hi, Logan." She looks him over before shooting me a smirk that says I'm going to live long enough to regret asking for her help tonight. Why don't I have any normal friends? Oh, right. Because I live in hell and they're all demons. "Well, I'm heading out. I just wanted to check on you."

"I should go with you."

"You should stay," she says, shooting me a pointed look before cutting her eyes at Logan. I was wrong. She isn't a demon. She's Satan incarnate. "That dick could still be hanging around out there, waiting for you to leave. Completely unhinged."

I am going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully. After I give her an award for her utter lack of shame and subtlety.

A soft growl rumbles from Logan's lips, his expression hard. "Why don't you let me drive you two home?"

"Oh, I can drive myself," Serena says. "But I'm surePeytonwould appreciate a lift." She shrugs innocently, batting her lashes. "You know, opposite sides of the city, dangerous madman with a grudge, etcetera, etcetera."

I shoot her a death glare…which she ignores as she flings her arms around me in a hug. "You're welcome," she hisses in my ear. "Love you! Bye!"

"Love you too," I grumble to her back as she practically speed races away like the bar is on fire and she set the blaze.

Logan simply chuckles, shaking his head.

"You don't have to drive me home," I mutter, massaging my temples. "Serena is just…Serena. Honestly, that's the only excuse for her. I love her to death, but she's a wild woman."

"I got that impression," he drawls, cocking his head to the side. "But she's right. He could be out there waiting for you. Let me drive you home, angel."

"Is this you trying to get me to tell you where I live?" I ask, mostly teasing. Of course he probably doesn't want to know. He's just being nice because Serena basically made it sound like I was going to die if he didn't drive me home. We do not live on opposite sides of the city. We share the same dang living room!

"Maybe." He leans in close, his eyes locked on my face. "Or maybe it's just me trying to get you alone."

My stomach turns a flip, my lips parting slightly as I stare up at him, looking for the tease. Except…I don't find it. He's serious.

Logan Moreno wants to get me alone.

"I…" Never have I ever wanted to kiss anyone as much as I want to kiss this man right now.

"Say yes," he murmurs, brushing his lips across my crown. "I'll be a perfect gentleman."

"No, you won't." The words are out before I even think them…but we both know they're true. If I let him drive me home, he won't be a gentleman. He'll be the exact opposite of a gentleman. And I don't think I care. Actually, IknowI don't. I want to know precisely what kind of trouble he is.

It's not like I'm getting that job with Micah on Monday anyway. That ship sank in the Mariana Trench. Why not live a little for once? If I live to regret it…well, at least I'll actually have something to regret for once.

This is insane, that little angel whispers.

She's a wise bitch. There are rules about not hooking up with strangers you met in a bar. I'm sure they probably still apply even when said stranger is a famous hockey player. But rightnow? Tonight? I don't care about the rules. They've never gotten me anywhere in life.

My body is humming. Logan is looking at me like he wants to eat me. And, frankly, I want to know what it's like to have this man all over me. If that's wrong, fine. I can regret it later.

"You can drive me on one condition," I say before I lose the nerve.

"Name it," he growls, his eyes meeting mine.

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