Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
It’s on Logan.
I lean against the doorframe of the guest room and smile to myself. That night… It was perfect.
The pizza. The way he laughed—unrestrained and real. The way his eyes warmed every time I said something weird and he pretended not to like it. The weight of his gaze when I wasn't looking. The intensity when I was.
And how he didn’t even hesitate to follow me into that elevator like I was a new form of gravity he couldn’t quite figure out.
I like him.
And not just the “he’s hot and older and could ruin me in one night” kind of like. Even though... yes, I’ll take a heavy helping of that too.
I mean like-like.
I’m crushing hard on Mr. Cranky Pants. Although, now I’m thinking a more fitting name for him would be Mr. I Want To Get In Your Pants.
I wander around, taking my clothes out of my suitcase and getting settled in, and the whole time, my mind is on him.
I’ve never felt this way about a man before. Hell, I’ve never had this effect on a man before.
Usually, it’s not long before they tell me to go away or pretend to get a call on their phone.
But Logan… He was captivated by me. He was intrigued by me. And it felt good.
He’s twenty years older than me.
But maybe that’s what I need.
Someone grounded. Someone solid. Someone who knows who he is and what he wants.
I’ve spent so much time floating through life, chasing ideas and vibes and feelings. Maybe it’d be nice to have someone who makes the ground feel less like lava and more solid.
Maybe Greg was right. Maybe I am flighty.
And maybe Logan can be my anchor.
I groan and flop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Munchies jumps up beside me and curls into my armpit with no shame.
“Oh man,” I whisper as I think about the end of the night.
The guilt creeps in fast.
I hated leaving him like that.
The stunned, shattered look on his face… That’s going to stay with me for a long time.
But when Munchies’ insane medical routine suddenly popped into my head, I panicked. I heard Greg’s voice in my head—judging me, blaming me, hating me—and I bolted. I didn’t even get to say goodbye properly.
I’ll make it up to Mr. Sexy Silver Fox CEO tomorrow.
I’ll think of something good. Something unforgettable.
Because Logan Strickland deserves to be celebrated. And now that I’ve had a taste of him?
I’m not done.
Not even close.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Logan
“I’m telling you,” Charles says, adjusting his tie for the third time in two minutes, “the numbers don’t lie. We’ve sunk twelve million into VANTAGE over the past two years and haven’t seen a single viable product come out of it.”
I stare at the screen behind him. Charts. Graphs. Projected loss curves. It all blurs.
“Users drop off after the first onboarding module,” Denise adds from across the conference table. “The assistant, Eva, is too mechanical. There’s no stickiness. No emotional hook. We’ve tried four relaunches and it’s still not connecting.”
Four execs. One clear message: shut it down.
If Willow was here, she’d agree with all of them.
I shift in my chair, my shoulders tight with irritation.
VANTAGE was supposed to be our future-facing division. The Visionary Advancement of Next-gen Technology And Growth Engine. The team was put together to launch Strickland Innovations Group from the Fortune 500 into the Fortune 50.
Instead, it’s become a punchline in budget meetings. They’re struggling and it’s a mess. They’re corporate quicksand, sinking every dollar I give them.
“Look,” Charles continues, “we all know why you’re hesitant. You care about the team. We get it. But VANTAGE is dragging down our Q3 outlook. Investors are watching.”
I nod slowly. I’m trying to pay attention, trying to think of a solution, but my brain isn’t fully in the room.
It’s with her.
Amber.
Goddess of chaos and bringer of light. The girl who managed to rattle my foundations and shake me to my core. All in a moment.
I barely slept last night. I was up all night thinking of her.
Those lips… That mouth…
God, I must have stroked myself five times while thinking of her body pressed up against mine last night before I finally collapsed into sleep.
Where the hell did she even come from? I didn’t know women like her existed.
I’ve had my share of women throwing themselves at me. I know I’m good on paper—looks, money, CEO title. It’s what a lot of women want. The lingering touches on my arm, the exaggerated laughs, the flicks of hair—I know what they’re doing. I just never had any time or desire for any of it. I didn’t see how a woman could fit in my life. To be honest, I had no need for one.
But with Amber…
I don’t know how she can fit in my life. It’s like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole. We couldn’t be more different. I’m structure and order, and she’s chaos and disarray. It shouldn’t work.