Page 86 of Logan
But she doesn’t even slow down. Just breezes right past me without so much as a glance in my direction, her expression never wavering, as if I’m nothing more than a piece of furniture. As if I don’t even exist.
I guess she really is serious about keeping her word. About pretending we’re nothing more than employer and employee.
Something twists painfully in my chest at the thought. I clench my jaw, fighting against the irrational urge to chaseafter her. I run my tongue over my teeth, trying to relax my jaw, ease the throbbing pain in my temples, but nothing helps. Fuck, it’s like drums pounding inside my skull.
“Sloane.” I call out.
She halts and turns to me, her lips parting for just a moment.
In that suspended moment, with her eyes widening in surprise, color blooming high on her cheekbones, all I can think about is how badly I want to fist my hand in her hair and kiss her until she’s breathless and pliant in my arms.
I want to pounce on her right here in front of everyone, and I want to show them all exactly who she belongs to. I want to claim her, once and for all, consequences be damned.
But I don’t. I can’t.
“There’s a company meeting tomorrow morning on Project Genius Gene. I want you to present the technical portion to the executives.”
“Tomorrow?” she echoes, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. “How am I supposed to prepare a technical presentation by tomorrow?”
I shrug, the picture of nonchalance even as my heart races in my chest. “That’s what I pay you for. All the relevant information is already in your email. I expect you to be ready to wow the board at ten a.m. sharp.”
Then, without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and make a beeline for the elevators, stabbing the Door Close button the second I’m inside. I lean my forehead against the cool metal wall, trying to steady my breathing, trying to get a fucking grip.
The second the elevator reaches the top floor, I burst into my office like a man possessed, sprinting to my privatebathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before dropping to my knees and heaving my guts out, my stomach clenching as I retch.
Wonderful. Just fucking fantastic.
When there’s nothing left to bring up, I haul myself to my feet and stumble over to the sink. I splash some cool water on my face and rinse the acrid taste of bile from my mouth. I never should have gone down there in my current state. All that movement and the stress of confronting Sloane have only exacerbated my headache, kicking it into the next level.
Somehow, I drag myself out of the bathroom and collapse face-first onto the leather sofa that occupies the far corner of my large office.
I’m debating the merits of skipping my two o’clock with the finance department when the door to my office flies open, and Liam comes barging in like he owns the place. Well, maybe he kinda does.
“We need to sit down and go over the work plan for the next quarter.”
“Okay,” I mumble into the cushions, not even bothering to open my eyes. “Just give me a minute.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He approaches and stands over me.
I crack one eye open and immediately regret it when the overhead lights pierce straight through my retinas. “I’m fine,” I grit out, even as a fresh wave of nausea rolls through me.
“The head again?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take anything?”
“I popped a couple of Excedrin, but they didn’t stay down long.”
“Fuck, Lo, it’s getting worse.” He sighs, and I can practically hear him running a hand through his hair the way he does when he’s gearing up to lecture me. “Look, I don’t want you to think I’m overstepping here, but would it kill you to delegate a little more? You don’t have to do everything yourself, you know. You can hire more people, give me and the other execs more responsibilities. Your health isn’t worth sacrificing for this place.”
“Dad is counting on me. I don’t intend to let him down.”
“Logan.” Liam’s voice is gentle like he’s talking to a wounded animal. “You have nothing to prove, okay? Not to him, not to anyone. He loves you, man. He’ll continue to love you even if you’re not working yourself into an early grave.”
How does he always know exactly what to say to hit me where I’m most vulnerable? He knows me too well, sees right through all my bullshit in a way no one else ever has.
Except maybe her.
