Page 78 of The Secret Heir Next Door

"Fair enough," I say, leaning in. "But only if you promise not to use them against me."

"Scout’s honor," he replies, holding up two fingers in a mock salute.

"Okay, well, I once stole a pack of gum from a convenience store when I was ten," I say, lowering my voice as if it’s the biggest confession in the world.

Logan gasps, playing along. "You rebel. How did you ever live with yourself?"

"It was tough," I say with a solemn nod. "But I returned it the next day, so I think that redeems me."

"I suppose I can forgive you, then," he says. "But only because you’ve clearly learned your lesson."

"Oh, absolutely. No more life of crime for me."

"Good to know," he replies, his gaze lingering on me.

The conversation flows easily after that, filled with playful banter and teasing. The tension from earlier fades, replaced by a growing warmth between us.

Logan is good at making me feel comfortable and making me laugh. He doesn’t let the formal atmosphere of the restaurant dictate how we behave, and I appreciate that more than he knows.

But the interruptions start soon after our food arrives. It begins with a man in an expensive suit who stops by our table to greet Logan. Then, a woman with perfectly coiffed hair comes over, followed by another man who seems to know Logan from some business deal.

Each time, Logan is polite, engaging in brief conversations before turning his attention back to me, but it’s clear that he’s well-known here, and that only adds to my feeling of being out of place.

When the fourth person interrupts us, I do my best not to feel annoyed. Logan must sense it because he reaches over and squeezes my hand.

"I’m sorry," he says softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I didn’t realize it would be like this."

"It’s okay," I lie, not wanting to make him feel bad.

"No, it’s not," he says, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I wanted tonight to be about us, not… this."

I look at him, at the sincerity in his gaze, and I know he means it. "Logan, it’s really fine. I’m just not used to it, that’s all."

He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, another voice cuts through the air.

"Well, well, look who it is."

I freeze, recognizing the voice even before I see who it belongs to. Logan’s brother, Chaz, saunters over to our table, a smirk on his face.

He’s not alone. A woman clings to his arm, dressed in a barely-there outfit that leaves little to the imagination. Her eyes flicker over me, and I can tell she’s already sizing me up.

"Chaz," Logan says, his voice tight. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I imagine," Chaz replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Dinner with company."

His eyes slide to me, and I see the disdain there, barely concealed. "Serena, wasn’t it? You clean up… well, sort of."

I feel my cheeks flush, but I force myself to stay calm. "Nice to see you again, Chaz."

He doesn’t respond, his attention already back on Logan. "You know, I’ve been wondering something, Logan. When will you stop your little rebellion and start listening to your family?"

Logan’s jaw tightens, and I can see the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Chaz, this isn’t the time or place."

"Oh, I think it is. Unless you’ve finally realized what a mistake you’re making."

"Chaz, enough," Logan snaps, his voice low and dangerous.

"Come on, Logan. You know this is ridiculous. You can’t seriously think she belongs here, with you. Look at her."

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