Mistaken Identity (6 page)

He rubs his hand through his light brown hair taking a deep breath, “Sam, I’m sorry. I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

I allow the room to fall silent. I really don’t have anything to say to him.

“Say something, please,” he pleads.

“What do you want me to say?” I sigh sitting down in my over-sized fluffy and quite comfortable taupe chair.

“Anything, please! I acted out of line because I was hurt, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I acted like an ass.”

“I didn’t deserve to be chastised. I could’ve lied to you, led you on, and played with your heart. Instead I chose to be honest.” I let out a puff of air, shaking my head, “And I was punished for it. You told me you loved me then cussed me like I was an enemy. You left me alone, forcing me to walk home by myself trying to figure out what the hell happened.”

“I thought you felt the same way. You give me these looks sometimes that I thought…well they didn’t. I read them wrong.” He steps closer squatting in front of my chair, “Sam, I do love you. I’ve fallen head over heels for you. I can’t force you to feel something you don’t.” He grabs my hand out of my lap squeezing gently. “Please let me show you I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I know, but please.”

I stare at him, contemplating what exactly I should do. I care for him, and I enjoy having him in my life, but he showed me one hell of a temper last night. The room is quiet. He searches me for any emotions, but thanks to my superpower, I’m strong as hell.

Finally, I give into him with a warning. “I’ll forgive you this time, but I promise the next time you talk to me like that, I will slap the shit out of you.”

He wraps his arms around me. “Thank you,” he says, showering my head with kisses.

Chapter
9

Since his apology several days ago, things between Logan and me haven’t been great. Something just isn’t there anymore. Not like it really was before, but now I’m not even the slightest bit excited to see him or his great escape. He’s emotionally clingy, calling and texting me every chance he gets. If I don’t answer his calls, he texts. If I don’t answer his texts, he calls. Complete polar opposite of the strong confident man that I liked so much when I met him. I got that he was sorry last weekend, so I don’t need to be reminded ten times daily. I have agreed to go out with him tonight, and just as usual, the clock has declared war with me. I’ve been swamped at work this week, and with only a few minutes left until I proclaim my victory on time, I shut down my computer and head out early. Take that, clock.

When the elevator doors slide open, they expose Mr. Eye Candy staring down at the floor, lost in his own thoughts. He looks up right before I enter, and his blank stare shifts, his broad stiff shoulders relax, and a grin slides across his lips. Heat spreads down my body tugging at something in my chest.

“It seems we have a meeting spot,” he says, his voice deep and soothing.

“It appears we do,” I maintain my calm not allowing him the pleasure of knowing what he’s doing to my insides.

He slides his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “How do you like working for Mr. Blakelock?”

The air around us feels like static electricity. My skin tingles, and it’s hard to breathe from the thickness of it. There’s a magnetic pull drawing me causing my legs to feel weak. Holy hell, this man and the violent titillating powers he has.

I smile, staring straight ahead without looking at him, scared he’ll see what he’s doing to me. “He keeps me busy, that’s for sure. But I enjoy it.”

Thankfully, like they heard my quiet plea, the elevator doors slide open releasing the energy.

“He is a busy man,” he says gesturing for me to exit first. We pause just outside the elevator, both of us unsure what to say or unsure which direction we’re heading. It’s a long and very awkward pause while we stand there, eyes fastened on each other. His lips quirk up in a cocky grin, and his dimples make their presence known under his five o’clock shadow. He absolutely knows what he’s doing to me. I’m certain by the luscious glint in his eyes, he knows my panties are saturated.

“Well, have a good afternoon, Miss Beckman,” he says. His gaze lingers momentarily then he turns on his heel and leaves, the image of him being replaced with the echoes of his shoes across the marble tile. Even the curved muscular backside is delicious.

_________________________

Once I got home, I had to take a cold shower to wash away the thirst for Mr. Eye Candy. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. His spicy cologne is still trapped in my nose. His azure blues are embedded in my mind, and every time I close my eyes, he’s there with his dimples. The problem is Logan is here, and Mr. Eye Candy is all I can think about. I pose one last time in front of the mirror hoping Jess won’t get mad that I borrowed her yellow cold shoulder blouse. It matches perfect with my skinny jeans.

When I open the door, Logan is standing there waiting for me in a pair of jeans and teal polo shirt.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I mumble. I’m nervous. I haven’t seen him since the morning he begged for my forgiveness, but something here is off. Something doesn’t feel…like a magnetic pull. Damn Mr. Eye Candy.

I cringe inwardly when he kisses my forehead, “I’ve missed you,” he breathes against me. “I’ve got something really nice planned for us.”

“Oh yeah?” I try sounding excited forcing my eyes to stay open and away from the visual of my elevator man.

“I want to redo our evening on the rooftop, minus me acting like an ass.”

Of all the places and things to do, he wants to take me back there. Now as a constant reminder of his asshole ways, I don’t think I could ever see that place for its beauty anymore, and I sure as hell am not ready to try it.

“Logan, I’m not really ready to go back there,” I say softly, testing the waters of the subject. “Can we do something else instead?”

“That’s why I want to redo it. I want to make it better this time. I want you to always want to go back there.” He grasps my hand, pulling me to the sidewalk giving me no choice but to follow. He’s so adamant about fixing what he screwed up that I decide to swallow the lump and relax following along with him. Hell, I’ve returned to worse places than a roof top, I’m sure I’ll be okay.

The closer to the apartment we get, the faster my heart races. And now I’m standing in front of the building damn near having a heart attack.

“Logan,” I pull my hand out of his, “I can’t do this. I really don’t want to.”

“Oh, come on. You’ll get over it once we get up there.” The touch of forced-back anger in his tone strikes a nerve with me.

“I swallowed a pill I didn’t exactly want to take last weekend. I don’t want to go up there. Not right now.”

His hands are on my shoulders before I can blink, tugging me toward the door. This doesn’t feel right at all. I bury my heel down pulling back in an attempt to stop. “No!” I cry out.

“Sam. I’m trying to do something nice here, but you’re making it difficult,” he growls through his teeth, but I don’t budge and he tightens his eyes at me. “What the fuck? Why do you have to ruin everything?”

Me ruin everything?
“Excuse me?”

He jams his hand into his hair pacing in a small circle. “You have to always ruin everything. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Don’t you cuss me,” I warn.

He grabs my arm, yanking me into his body and squeezing me hard enough I know I’ll have bruises by tomorrow. “Get your hands off of me!” I try to jerk free, but he doesn’t release me, and pulls me harder into him. A sinister smirk appears on his lips, and before I can think about what I’m doing,
smack!
With fire in his eyes he releases me, rubbing his cheek, stunned that I kept to my word.

I turn on my heel, not sticking around to see what else can come from the situation, and run toward my apartment. I’m a few blocks away in these agonizing heels before realizing I’m not being followed. I stop, doubling over, my lungs begging for air. “Fucking asshole,” I mumble.

Chapter 10

Needless to say, Jess has not taken the news of Logan well at all. She’s irate, but being the mother hen she has always been, she refrains herself and keeps calm for me.

“I hope you’re done with his stupid ass,” she says standing in front of me, her arms crossed over her breast.

“You better believe it.”

“Let’s go out. Dancing is the medicine for you. I’m not taking no for an answer, and before you overthink it, we’ll go to the Vault.” She’s brilliant. The Vault is classier than the rest of these lower end clubs, meaning I won’t see Logan there, it’s not his style.

_________________________

The club is packed tonight. The air is thick with sweaty dancing bodies causing the place to be a sauna. I try to make a beeline to the bar, but Jess has other plans and grabs my hand pulling me toward the dance floor. The DJ has the music pumping, compelling my body to move on its own. Jess and I dance wildly, arms flailing everywhere and before I know it we’ve danced through several songs. I let the grabby man behind Jess take over and finally head to the bar. Jess can handle the man if he goes too far with her. I’ve seen her kick a man in the crotch for an “accidental” boob grab. She doesn’t do well with touchy people. I push my way through the crowd at the bar and find a small spot to slide in, motioning to the bartender.

“So, will this be our new meeting spot?” a sexy voice says behind me.

My skin begins to tingle, an electric charge begins romping through my veins. A woodsy mandarin scent floods my senses. Surely this isn’t. I turn to a marvelous sight before me—Mr. Eye Candy himself. Not the sexy suit and tie, but the spikey tousled hair, dressed in jeans, sexier than ever, Mr. Eye Candy.

“Hey!” I say.

“Would you like a drink?” There’s that megawatt smile again.

I shake my head no holding up my beer I just got.

“I have a table in the back. It’s not so loud back there. Would you like to join me?” His swooning smile reaches his eyes sparkling from disco lights somewhere behind me.

I nod, trying not to look overly excited. He takes me by the elbow gently, igniting my thirst for him, and leads me toward the back toward a dark pathway. Passing by the dance floor, I spot Jess and give her a small wave to let her know I’m okay. Her mouth drops at the sight of the mouth-watering man at my side, but she pulls herself back together quickly and smiles in satisfaction.

The room has a handful of tables and benches over-looking the dance floor through a tinted glass wall. It’s very secluded. All the times I’ve been to this club, I never knew this room existed. The view of people dancing is crazy. You can see some men and women know how to dance, and others are just out there to be out there, probably forced by a friend.

“I like to sit here and watch people dance,” he says, taking notice of my stare of the dance floor.

“How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough. Nice moves,” he chuckles. Great. I’m sure I looked like a twitching baboon out there. If I had known he was here I could have pulled out all my best moves.

I purse my lips at him, “I never would’ve thought I would catch you in a place like this.”

“I’m usually not, but a friend of mine is getting married Sunday and he wanted everyone to go out and celebrate. So here I am.”

God his voice is sexy as hell. I can’t believe my Mr. Eye Candy is here right in front of me. Which reminds me. “I don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves. I’m Sam.” I stick my hand out for a hand shake.

He takes my hand and when he does that magnetic pull jolts through me. My breath hitches, my pulse hammers, and my stomach does back flips. “Tanner Smith.” He says his name slowly, and I wonder if he’s caught off guard at the electricity flowing through our fingers too. We aren’t shaking hands anymore, it’s like he’s holding mine, stopping us in a not-so-awkward silent moment staring at each other. There’s a wonder in his eyes.

A man stumbles into the room, undoubtedly drunk as hell, knocking me off cloud nine. My cheeks start to burn from the embarrassment of being caught in an intense moment, and I take my hand away from his breaking the spark. The man drops into the seat beside Tanner leaning over to him with his eyes locked on me.

“Whosh this hottie?” he slurs into Tanner’s shoulder.

“This is Sam. I work
with
her.” He gives me an apologetic smile tilting his head to the side.

“Haayy, Sham that works wiitth Tanner. Imma Aaron.”

I offer a polite nod and smile. I’ve learned in my life that trying to hold a conversation with a drunk is nearly impossible. Not like they will remember anyway, right?

The two men begin to discuss something muffled by the sound of bass from the dance floor. I scan the place spotting Jess at the bar being invaded by a drunk man and decide to take this opportunity to go save her.

“Tanner, it was nice talking with you again, but I’m going to find my friend. I’m sure she’s wondering where I’ve run off to,” I lie.

He scrambles out of his chair, eagerly standing up. “It was great talking with you, Sam. See you at the meeting spot Monday at four?” He ignores Aaron who’s still slurring a one-sided conversation, apparently not noticing Tanner isn’t listening. Tanner’s fatal dimples develop and that pull is there again—the one in my chest that makes no sense to me, yeah that one. I give him a timid smile before leaving, begging for the light to be low enough so he can’t see my lust for him.