Wild (The Ivy Chronicles #3)(35)



My real father had been one of her biggest disappointments. The few times she spoke candidly with me on the subject of him, she had been clear. He was the greatest mistake of her life. She regretted it. Him. Me. She didn’t say it but what else was I to interpret? Some mistakes were like that. Colossal and irreversible. Logan Mulvaney would not be that mistake for me.

There was the right path and the wrong path, and if I ever had any doubt which was which, I need only ask my mother. She always had an opinion, and I knew she would want me to avoid guys like Logan Mulvaney.

I think you want me to say dirty things to you.

I cringed. Some guys were impossible to forget though.

“Georgia knows I’m just messing with her,” Em said, snagging my attention back to the here and now. “If she really likes this guy, then I’m going to love him. You know that, right, Georgia?”

I nodded reflexively and then froze as the front door opened and Logan stepped inside. A thousand prickles rushed over my skin. He wasn’t alone either. Rachel was with him. I was never so relieved in my life than at that moment. I had a date. He had Rachel with him. I took a big gulp of my margarita.

Pepper clapped her hands and made it across the room to hug him. Even as tall as Pepper was, Logan easily folded her in his arms. Pepper hugged Rachel, too—an embrace the girl accepted awkwardly. His gaze did a quick sweep of the room before landing on me.

We stared at each other across the living room. The moment struck me as so strange. This guy had been in my sphere for a long time, but I’d only thought of him as Reece’s impossibly beautiful, shallow kid brother. Never considered him beyond that. Never thought of him as more. Never been tempted.

And now, in this room, he was the center of my universe. Everything in me prickled with awareness of him.

A hand brushed the small of my back and I sucked in a sharp breath. Connor stood beside me. “You okay? Can I make you a plate of food?”

“Not yet.” I shook my head and took another sip of the margarita Emerson had placed in my hand. “Thank you.”

Connor looked longingly at the spread of food across the room.

“Go ahead,” I encouraged. “Make yourself a plate.”

“If you don’t mind—”

“No, go. Shaw is already eating.”

“Okay.” He dropped his hand from the small of my back and headed for the table of food. When I looked back across the room to where Logan had stood moments ago, he was gone. I scanned the room, skipping over the dozen or so people mingling. Some standing, some sitting. He was gone. But then so was Pepper and Rachel. She must be giving them the tour of the house.

“Not hungry?” Emerson asked.

I shook my head.

“Well, that guacamole is calling my name. I’ll be back.”

I stood there by myself for a moment. An old Johnny Cash song played low on the air. Connor’s gaze met mine as he listened to something Shaw was saying. He sent me a nod and angled his body as though he was on the verge of breaking away to join me. Like a good date should do. Only I realized I didn’t want to get trapped in small talk with him just yet.

Before he could reach me, I moved out of the living room and stepped into the hall that led to the guest bathroom. It was past the study with the French doors and guest room. I heard footsteps behind me and hurried, half-afraid it was Connor following to check up on me. Fortunately, the bathroom was unoccupied. I slipped inside, but didn’t have a chance to shut the door all the way behind me.

It swung inward, and Logan slid inside before I fully realized what was happening. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He loomed there, staring at me almost expectantly.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “You can’t be in here with me!”

“What are you doing with that tool?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, Pearls. Did you bring him to make me jealous?”

I laughed, but the sound rang brittle, so I cut it short and just stared at him in my best imitation of my mother’s cool, principal glare.

“Hardly.” Studying his face, I could see that he was serious. For once that mocking humor was nowhere in evidence. “There is no reason for you to be jealous. We’re not a thing.”

He said nothing, just stared at me with those bitter-hard eyes. The blue was like some kind of frozen marble.

“Not a thing,” he echoed, his lips unsmiling. He usually always smiled. Even on those rare occasions when he was serious, he had that derisive smile on his lips. But not tonight. Not now.

Suddenly the bathroom felt claustrophobic. “Look. We don’t really know each other. And you agreed to back off—”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

That made me take a step back. I laughed nervously. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have a date out there. You have . . . Rachel.” So they were just friends, but she had come here with him. “Nothing is happening here.” I motioned between us. “Nothing is going to happen here. You need to step away from the door.”

“Don’t pretend like there isn’t something here. Like we haven’t been dancing around it for weeks now, Georgia.” He jabbed a finger toward me, coming off the door, advancing. “You started this.”

I backed up, swallowing, miserable. Yeah. That night at the kink club. That kiss. And then I showed up at his baseball game like some kind of groupie.

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