Page 55 of The Risk Taker

I’m closest. That’s all.

Logan’s still mid-conversation, the guy leaning in a little too close now, his hand still on his arm and Logan doesn’t move away.

Maybe that wouldn’t bother me so much if I could just get the thought of last week out of my fucking mind. If he hadn’t touched my leg like that. If I hadn’t fucking dreamed about it after. If I didn’t keep thinking about his hand and mouth and?—

God, I’m tired.

Tired of thinking about it. Tired of feeling something I don’t know what to do with.

I grit my teeth and tap his shoulder before I can talk myself out of it.

Logan glances over, his eyes dragging over the stupid Luigi hat before sliding down to my face—and his mouth curves into a smirk. “Hey, Luigi.”

I jerk my chin toward the hallway. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

For a second, he just watches me, searching my face as if he’s trying to figure out what this is. “Uh… sure.” Logan turns to the guy and gives a lazy, apologetic smile. “Give me a minute?”

The guy shrugs, and I start walking, feeling Logan follow me as we move toward the dim hallway—somewhere quieter, somewhere we can talk without half the party watching.

“What’s up?” Logan asks when I stop and turn to face him.

I hold out his wallet. “You left this at the table.”

He takes it, spins it once between his fingers, then looks at me. There’s a smudge of fake blood on his collarbone, and of course that’s the first thing I notice. Lately, it feels like all I do is notice shit about him.

“You pulled me aside,” he says after a few seconds. “Just for a wallet?”

I shrug. “One of the rookies had it. Thought I’d give it to you before they swiped it.”

He watches me for what feels like forever, his head tilting slightly, the faintest crease forming between his brows.

“Come on,” he says, stepping off the wall. “What’s this really about?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You dragged me away from a guy I was talking to fornothing?”

I don’t answer. Mostly because I don’t know what to say. Because I don’t even know why I did it myself.

Logan takes another step closer, close enough that the light catches the fake blood on his neck. His voice drops. “You’ve been acting weird for days, Hayes.”

“I haven’t?—”

He ignores me and continues. “You barely talk to me anymore. You shut down every time I try to joke with you. And now you—” He gestures vaguely toward where he was sitting. “Whatever that was. What the hell is going on with you?”

I look at him, at the way his fangs glint when he talks, the way his eyes don’t let me hide. I wish I could just be pissed at him. Pissed would be easier.

Instead, there’s this constant, buzzing static in my chest I can’t turn off.

“I don’t know,” I say, gritting the words out. “I don’t fucking know, okay? I just—” I drag a hand through my hair. “I just came here to give you your wallet, which you’ll need if you’re planning to take pirate guy out for a drink.”

It sounds bitter. Ihearit. And judging by the small twitch of his mouth, so does he.

“That’s what this is about?” Logan asks, his brows shooting up. “You’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” I grit out. “I don’t get jealous over guys.”

“Yeah?” His voice dips, his usual teasing tone lower and rougher. “You sure about that?”