Page 15 of Real Good Man
“So this will be an experience for both of us then.” His smile tilts into a smirk. “Might have to make a bet on a game of foosball. I’m more than passable myself.”
I like the hint of challenge his words carry, and give him a sassy look of my own in return. “Oh, you’re going to get cocky now? Just wait.”
The cabbie interrupts from the front. “You wanna get out here? It’ll be faster to walk in this mess.”
“Sure, that’s fine.” I slide a twenty through the glass while Logan is still reaching for his wallet. He opens his mouth to protest, but I wave it off. “You can buy the first tokens.”
He nods. “I’ll be buying all the tokens.”
Logan’s hand closes around mine as he helps me climb out of the cab. He releases his hold when I step onto the sidewalk, but I feel it again on the small of my back as we make our way toward the entrance.
The Kentucky redneck is a gentleman.That shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. I shut my thoughts down as he pauses to scan the buildings behind us.
“It really looks just like what you see on TV. All the lights. Huge buildings. Cool for a vacation, but I don’t know how people get used to living in the middle of all of this.”
I turn and take it in through his eyes. Everything is bigger, brighter, and louder in New York. I can only imagine how chaotic it must seem to someone who isn’t used to it. Maybe about like the way Logan’s presence is making me feel.
“I guess when you’ve lived here all your life, you don’t know any different, though,” he adds, his observation accurate.
“Pretty much. When I was a kid, I would beg my driver to take the route through Times Square. It was a treat to see all the lights since he normally avoided it.”
“Your driver?”
When Logan’s gaze lands on me, I still. I don’t talk about my childhood much to anyone. It just slipped out.
I take a step toward the door. “My parents weren’t around much when I was growing up, and they definitely don’t drive. So, yeah, I had a driver as a kid.”
Logan’s expression is thoughtful, almost amused. “We really are from two different worlds. I pedaled my ass off three miles to school when I missed the bus. When I blew a tube, I walked.”
“Your parents didn’t take you?”
Logan shakes his head. “My ma worked graveyard, so she wasn’t awake until after I got home from school, if she was even there.”
“So basically we were both kids who raised ourselves because our parents were busy doing other things?”
Even though our circumstances were vastly different, it seems that Logan Brantley and I have more common ground than either of us realized.
The heat from his hand burns through my dress as he brings me closer to his side to miss a crowd of tourists snapping pictures and not paying attention to where they’re walking.
I look up to find those blue eyes fixed on my face.
“I guess you’re right. Our playgrounds were a little different, though.”
Breaking the stare, I point to the red awning to our left. “True. We’re heading right in there.”
Logan leads the way, and once inside, we find ourselves seated at a booth with menus and a waitress heading away with our drink orders.
I promised myself there would be no liquor tonight so I wouldn’t make any bad judgment calls like I did last night. Jesus. Logan probably thinks I’m some kind of split-personality psycho. I have to explain. Just like I do everything else, I barrel right into it.
“I was drunk last night. I told my friend not to let me drunk text, but I did it anyway.”
Logan leans back in his chair, his gaze dropping to his menu for a moment. “I figured that much out myself.”
“So we can forget that entire conversation ever happened?” My tone is hopeful, and probably a little naive for me. I grip the edges of the table while I wait for him to respond.
“Some of those things were pretty unforgettable, but I didn’t drive twelve hours for that, Banner.” His gaze is serious and intense, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s his normal state. “I’m not trying to be a dick when I say this, but I don’t need to come all the way to New York just to get a piece of ass.”
Something about his words has me relaxing my grip, and any momentary self-consciousness drains away.
