Page 51 of Just Say Yes

I ground my teeth together, refusing to answer her question.

Her eyes rolled because she could sense I was acting like a child.

“My dinner is none of your business, Logan.” She straightened, ready to shut the door on my face.

Anger and frustration coursed through me. The woman in front of me was goddamn infuriating. My hand planted on the door, not letting her get away so easily.

She sighed. “What? You have a big important match coming up and you need a little lucky mojo?” Her words dripped with sarcasm. She shoved an arm in my direction. “Here. Rub my arm for good luck or whatever it is you think you need from me.”

My brows furrowed. She had no clue what this was about. Hell, neither did I.

When I didn’t make a move, MJ shook her head with a laugh. “Okay, good night, Logan.” She pushed the door closed, and a pit opened in my stomach.

I should’ve left. That was what a sane man would do. But as I stared at the closed door, the thought of walking away felt impossible. Like losing a game I hadn’t even started playing.

Oh, hell no.

My fist rose as I pounded on the door.

The door didn’t move. My fist hit harder this time, rattling the heavy oak. “Julep,” I said, my voice low and firm.

I wasn’t leaving until she opened this goddamn door.

FOURTEEN

MJ

The butterfliesin my stomach jumped when his fist landed hard against the thick oak door. I stifled a yelp and shook out my hands. I should have let him knock himself out and walk away. But the sound of his voice, the force behind it, had every nerve in my body sparking like a live wire.

I wanted to tell him to leave. I wanted him to stay. Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted, except maybe him.

“Julep.” His voice was frustrated. Raw, it danced over my skin, making the need in my stomach coil.

I was annoyed with him. Frustrated with the universe over the fact that he was completely off-limits thanks to my scumbag ex. Hurt by the reality that his interest stemmed from a superstitious need to win at rugby.

Logan Brown was temptation personified—a walking contradiction to everything I thought I wanted. He was trouble, wrapped in a charming, dimpled grin and a body that could make even the most composed woman forget herself. And yet here I was, teetering on the edge of giving in, knowing I could get hurt all over again.

All of the pent-up frustrations simmered beneath my skin and bubbled to the surface.

I could yell at him or lose myself beneath him. For the first time in years, the idea of being touched—really touched—didn’t send me spiraling into anxiety. With Logan, it wasn’t just about lust—it was about control. I wanted him, yes, but I also wanted to own that moment, to claim it for myself.

The shocking, primal image of him hovering over me, pressing himself between my thighs, had my temperature skyrocketing. Something about Logan made me feel powerful.

Alive.

Protected.

His knuckles pounded on the door again.

Bracing myself, I yanked open the door and set my jaw, ready to fight.

The sight of him took the air from my lungs. His jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling like he’d run a marathon, and his eyes—god, those eyes—pinned me in place. For a second, neither of us moved, the space between us electric, a thousand unsaid words hovering in the air.

He stared at me like no man had ever stared before. His hair was wild, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. His eyes were intense, hard green orbs that bore into mine.

Based on his tone, I thought I would see frustration, jealousy, or irritation. Instead, staring back at me was something I’d never seen before. Logan looked like a man who was about to snap, if only I spoke the word.

Yes.

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