Page 99 of Collision
Logan purses his lips. “You have to be honest with me. It’s clear that he likes you, but I can accept that. I have to know, though, if you like him back. Because in that case, I’m just wasting my time.”
“It doesn’t matter whether I like him or not. What matters is that I could never be with someone like him. I already had a guy like that, one who didn’t respect me enough, and I learned my lesson. I want to feel good, Logan, and you make me feel good. You worry about me, you treat me with kindness. You hold doors open for me, and you even got me chocolates.” I smile. “Small things, but no one has ever done them for me before,” I admit in a whisper.
He moves a pigtail behind my shoulder and touches my cheek. “Okay, if you say Thomas is not a threat, then I believe you.” He kisses my lips gently, and I reciprocate.
“I want to be your boyfriend, Vanessa. I won’t force you to decide right now, but I am asking you to give me an answer when I come back to Corvallis, if you can.”
An answer…about us?
Suddenly, it feels like there’s a heavy weight on my chest and I struggle to breathe. I’m happy with Logan, but I don’t think I can feel for him what he feels for me. Fortunately, Maggie pops out of the back door and calls me back in, allowing me to put the subject on hold for a little while at least.
“Are you coming in too?” I ask.
“No, I have to get going.” He gives me a sincere smile. “Plus, Thomas is in there. Best not to poke the bear.” What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I not madly in love with this guy who looks at me like I’m a goddess?
“Okay then…see you when you get back?” I ask, a bit melancholy.
“You can bet on it. And I’ll call you. Frequently,” he smiles.
“And I will answer. Frequently. And don’t worry about Thomas.” We exchange a knowing look and kiss each other for the last time.
When I enter, I see that Thomas, Matt, and their group of friends have taken a table in my section. I curse under my breath and head over to take their order. “Please explain why all your customers are incredibly hot dudes while mine are all well north of forty and wearing dentures?” asks a particularly whiny Cassie when I return to the bar.
“We can switch, if you want,” I suggest as I start pouring two pints of beer for their table.
“What?” Her eyes light up.
“You’d be doing me a favor, actually. There’s a guy over there I really want to avoid.” Cassie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. I slide the pints toward her, along with an order of chicken wings that just arrived from the kitchen. “Go ahead, these are for them.”
She adjusts her cleavage and, not needing to be asked twice, hurries over to their table.
An hour later, I am still working all my tables, except for number eleven. Thomas does nothing but stare at me and, every time I walk past him, I have to resist the urge to meet his eyes. I head to a table that is finally about to leave and exchange small talk with a guy not much older than me, implementing some of my tried-and-true tip-getting tactics. Before he leaves, the boy puts an arm around me and pulls meclose to him, smiling up at me. He pulls some bills out of his wallet and wedges them between the band of my skirt and my skin. I gently move his hand from my hip before smiling at him and walking away.
I am about to pass table eleven, when a tattoo-covered hand grabs my wrist, sending a shiver along my spine.
“Stop.”
Frowning, I slowly lower my gaze to him. “I suggest you take your hand off me, otherwise you’ll have to deal with our bouncer, Sean. And, believe me, he doesn’t care if you’re here with the boss’s nephew. He will throw you out one by one,” I say, with deliberate emphasis.
Thomas raises an eyebrow, not remotely intimidated. “Come outside. I need to talk to you.”
“I can’t. I’m working.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks with a nasty grin, looking pointedly at the bills sticking out of the top of my skirt.
I roll my eyes. “They’re just tips. Stop acting like an overprotective big brother,” I snap in annoyance.
He purses his lips and tugs my wrist, forcing me to bend closer to him until my ear is near his mouth. In doing so, I cannot help but breathe in his masculine, sensual scent: vetiver, bodywash, and…Jack Daniel’s? Has he been drinking? How did I not notice? His lips are touching my skin; my stomach twists, and I employ every bit of willpower I have to keep myself from getting swept away by the tingling sensation underneath my skin.
“Big brother? Seriously?” He rasps.
“That’s what you’re acting like. Leave me alone, Thomas, you’ve done enough damage for one evening.” I straighten up and try to free myself, but he only tightens his grip.
“You’re still pissed off about earlier, aren’t you?”
“No, of course not. What would make you think so?” I answer with a sarcastic grimace. I can feel the discomfort radiating off of Matt and the other boys at the table.
Thomas loosens his grip on my wrist and runs a hand through his hair. “I talked a lot of shit, I know. But I was pissed.”
