Logan Kade (Fallen Crest #5.5)(76)

“Hey, guys.”

“Dude.” Nate twisted around. “Where’s the party?”

“What?”

I pointed to the house. “Where’s the party?”

“Oh.” He laughed. “No way. Not at my house. I know of a party. That’s what I said.” He propped his hands on the back of our seats. “But I have to warn you. This party is a little sketch.”

“Sketch?” Nate asked.

“Yeah. There might be hard-core people there. So…” He looked at us. “I mean, we don’t have to go. We can go somewhere else.”

Nate looked at me. “Some girls from Pete’s Pub told me about a party. We could go there instead.”

“Wait.” Blaze’s eyebrows pinched together. “What’s wrong with my party?”

“Define ‘sketch people,’” I said. I was pretty sure he wasn’t talking our crowd.

“Oh. Uh… I don’t know. Harder drugs, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” I said dryly, turning the vehicle onto the street. “That’s what I figured, and sorry, pal. We do not need to be hanging with the local crime circuit.”

“Huh?”

I ignored him. “Nate, where’s the other party?”

“Asking now,” he muttered, already typing on his phone. A few blocks later, it buzzed. “Ah-ha. It’s not far, and the girls are down to get dirty, if you know what I mean.”

“Show me the address.” Once he did, I took a sharp left turn. In between telling me where to turn, Nate and Blaze started to talk. Normally, I was a connoisseur of bullshitting, but this time, I tuned them out. I had other things in my head, or other people.

Taylor wouldn’t leave me alone. Her face kept flashing in my mind—the way she’d looked when I first saw her up on that roller coaster. She’d looked so small and defeated, but there was still a look of defiance on her face. Like the world sat on her shoulders, but she was ignoring it because she didn’t want to let it push her into the ground.

She was strong like that. She wasn’t an in-your-face kind of strong. She was quiet, but sturdy. The kind of strong that you didn’t know was there until you pushed up against it, and it threw you back on your ass.

Pain sliced through me as I remembered how I’d gone to her. I’d thought I could share a few stories, let her know everything would get better, and she’d be happy. Nope. I was the one bounced back on my ass. She was cold and locked up. I hadn’t read the signals correctly. Nate had told me I was hardened about letting new people in, but I had nothing on Taylor. She was made of ice. It was shiny and pretty, but it was thick. I could see her through it, so I didn’t even realize it was there until too late. Taylor was the hardened one, and I don’t even think she knew how much.

“Hey, right there.” Nate tapped my arm and pointed to a house at the end of the block.

Finally. I had a huge f*cking knot tied up inside of me. At the sight of the party, I felt a little relief—like a knife had swiped at the knot, cutting away some of the tension. I was about to embrace my inner manwhore, and I wasn’t going to have any regrets about it. The first chick who hit on me, I was pulling her to a room.

“Logan, you look ready to tear into someone,” Blaze commented as we walked to the house.

I grunted, and Nate narrowed his eyes. I needed to get it together a little. I found them a smile and clapped them on the shoulders, pulling them in for a quick side-hug. “Fellas, you have no idea what night this is.”

Blaze frowned.

Nate muttered, “Oh, no.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No naysayers. No haters. There won’t be any of that negativity shit. This is our night, guys. This is the night we remind ourselves we’re men.”

“Yeah.” Blaze pumped a fist in the air.

“I know I’m a man. I don’t have to remind myself.” Nate stepped away and folded his arms over his chest. “Please don’t say we’re doing an orgy or a brawl. I don’t know if I’m up for that tonight.”

Good God, a brawl sounded like fun. I tilted my head to the side, knowing the grin on my face was weirding him out.

Nate shook his head. “Oh man, Logan. What are you planning?”

“Well…” I pulled him back to me and threw my arms around their shoulders again. “I’m planning to screw at least three girls tonight, but the brawl sounds like a good idea, too.”

Blaze stopped. “Wait. Seriously? I don’t want to fight.”

I dragged him with us, propelling us forward until I could kick open the door. A girl stood on the other side, drink in her hand and hunger in her eyes. I didn’t know her name, but she said, “Logan! Hey!”

I took in the sight of her: platinum blonde hair, tight shirt showing off her trim waist, and long-ass legs. Her miniskirt hid very little—I loved those. She motioned us inside the house, and as she turned, I could see her asscheeks. They were smooth, firm, and supple. And they were just asking me to touch them.

“Asscheeks and cupcakes,” I mused to myself. Oh, how I loved both things. A flicker of the old Logan ignited in me, the one who did what I pleased, who I pleased, and gave no shits about it. That Logan. Single. Carefree. If I wanted to streak later, I sure as shit was going to, and as I took a deep breath, I remembered how much I enjoyed that Logan. He was selfish, and he could indulge as much as he wanted, and this chick with her asscheeks right here to warm his hands was the first one in line. Tonight would be carnal fun.