Chapter 6

Elena

I'm watching Logan search through the pantries for ingredients and something to cook alongside the filet mignon he will be making.

Emma is excited, but I'm not sold yet. His choice of protein is interesting. Don't get me wrong, I'm by no means a chef, but I know filet mignon is lean and free of any tough muscle, making it easy to overcook since there isn't much fat.

"Consider yourself lucky to be able to taste my cooking," Logan turns around to wink at me saucily.

I roll my eyes from my place, leaning my back against a stove that no one is using.

"I still don't believe you can cook—don't you have servants for that?" I snicker in amusement. "I bet you don't even wipe your ass."

I shouldn't have mentioned his ass—now I seem unable to look away from it as he bounces it around for the show.

"I do wipe my ass. I'm a big boy, thank you very much."

"Bet you have someone doing it for you at home," I mutter under my breath, convinced Logan didn't hear my comment.

I was wrong.

Logan chuckles. "You're so mean."

"I'm not mean."

Logan returns to making my food. He has rolled up his sleeves, and the other servers are whispering by the corner of the kitchen. The ladies working for me certainly have noticed his exposed biceps. Hell, even my mouth is turning dry from watching them.

"What's your deal anyway?" Logan suddenly asks while cooking. He is moving swiftly like a ninja while talking. "Your snide comments and hatred make it seem like you already know me," He pauses then. "We didn't go to the same school, did we?"

My heart stops beating. Lying is the only way out. I can't reveal my true identity to Logan; reliving the shame from that rejection in the past would kill me at the spot.

"No, we didn't go to the same school."

Logan laughs. "Did we date in the past? Is that why you hate me so much?"

Ha. I wish we dated in the past. Back when I thought you had a heart inside that chest of yours.

"Nope."

"I didn't think so either," Logan admits. "I would have remembered a pretty face like yours."

His compliment makes me want to puke. Instead, I execute the perfect grimace, dramatic enough to make him laugh when he steals a glance at me. He is looking off to the side, showcasing his beautiful profile as he glances down at me.

"Is it that bad to receive a compliment from me?" Logan asks.

"Yes," I reply dryly, determined to keep hating him, even if my thundering heart seems incapable of that. "If you don't mind, I will go and sit down by the table. I have some stuff to check on my phone."

"No problem."

I take a seat by the table and scroll on my phone for what seems like an eternity. Unfortunately, I can't focus on the posts on Facebook—I can't even relax!

Logan has taken over my thoughts. He was all that I could think and dream about in the past, and now I'm afraid he has infiltrated my senses again with his bad-boy charm.

Why am I so weak when it comes to that guy?

One juicy glance my way, and my brain cells commit suicide by jumping out through the window, leaving me unable to function around the beautiful man.

"Sorry it took so long," Logan hurries to our table with two plates. The smell of something delicious immediately takes over my senses. "I brought your food and Emma's plate—I will fetch mine once these are down on the table."

I swallow. The plates are arranged perfectly with vegetables, some thick, cold sauce in a tiny bowl, and the filet mignons look perfect. I'm too busy absorbing the colorful plate to pay attention to Emma slipping into a chair next to me.

"Oh, boy!" Emma exclaims, sounding happy. "This looks delicious!"

Logan returns with wine, glasses, and his plate. A huge smile is plastered on his face, and a thin layer of sweat has formed on his forehead. Blonde tousled hair is hanging down into his sparkly eyes, and yet, he looks better than ever.

"Shall we eat?" Logan takes a seat but keeps those mesmerizing eyes on me. It's uncomfortable. "I want to know what you think of my cooking."

I notice he is still sweating, probably warm from still wearing his sweatshirt inside my scorching hot restaurant.

"Isn't it warm wearing that thing?" I remark.

Logan smirks. "Do you want me to take it off?"

Emma gasps, but I don't even react and continue glaring into Logan's mischievous face.

"Are you wearing anything under it?" I ask.

Logan holds our eye contact. "A white t-shirt."

"Then I don't see why you can't remove that sweatshirt and allow your skin to breathe."

Logan flashes me a brief smile and then removes his sweatshirt by raising his arms above his head. I keep chewing on the filet mignon, taken by the excellent taste and then almost choking on the piece.

Logan's tight t-shirt rides up his stomach with the movements of his arms. Too weak to resist, I stare at his rock-solid abs peeking from under his shirt along with the very top of his white Calvin Klein underwear. A visible v-line got the room heating up to tropical degrees.

Holy mother of wealthy billionaires...

This is like live-action porn! And it's embarrassing to admit that I most definitely would pay money to watch this guy dance or do nasty stuff naked while a webcam records him. As long as Logan didn't know I was watching him, I would maybe even tip him, have him bounce that round ass for me.

"That feels much better," Logan says and lowers his thick, muscular arms. I immediately lift my gaze from his crotch area, only to find him searching my eyes with a knowing look on his face. His lips twitch. "How is the meat?"

I clear my throat, hyperaware of his slow-spreading smile. "I was wrong about your cooking skills—this tastes amazing."

Emma fills in with a hum, her mouth full of food. I know it's mean to acknowledge, but to be honest, Logan's killer show almost made me forget about her existence.

"I'm glad you like the food," He smiles at Emma, but then his eyes travel over to me and lingers on my face. It makes me uncomfortable to eat his food, knowing it gives him satisfaction.

"Where did you learn how to cook?" Emma asks with her eyes filled with glitter and hearts. She seems to be developing a crush on Logan.

"It's always been a hobby of mine. I find cooking to be very calming for the soul," Logan explains. "A lot of expectation and eyes have been on me from a very young age. I'm expected to take over my grandfather's entire company. As a result, I've been studying everything necessary to run a world-leading business, which gave me little time to do something I enjoy. But cooking I always had time for, at least once a day."

Emma nods. "Your grandfather owned all the Starlight hotels, right?"

"Now I'm the owner of those hotels," Logan smiles briefly. "Not only that, but my grandfather was also a prominent investor in many projects, some Kickstarter. So plenty of brands are owned by me these days, and it's all thanks to his crazy investments and willingness to risk everything for money."

I finish my food, then turn around to glance at Emma, who looks starstruck and ready to flash her tits for a chance with the billionaire. Seeing her face disappoints me. I didn't think money alone was enough to persuade her.

"Thanks for the food; it was delicious," I get up from my chair. Logan follows my movements with his intense eyes. One could drown in those pools of blue. "But I'm a busy woman and has to get back to work."

Logan smiles. "I get it..." A thoughtful look crosses his face. "Will you answer the next time I call you?"

"I thought we went through every song you want me to sing?"

Logan shrugs. "I thought I could watch your rehearsals, you know, to make sure everything is perfect."

I nod. Somehow I'm not buying Logan's excuse, but I don't want to argue in front of Emma. "Sure, I will pick up my phone next time."