Nadine’s POV
I need something to flush Logan out of my system. I’m not afraid to admit that he owns my heart in a way I can’t explain. Despite my efforts to stay away and be mad at him, I find myself craving more.
He has a way of invading my space, and it’s becoming suffocating. If I don’t get a release soon, I might lose it.
But I know I have to stay sane for my son. There are so many things I haven’t achieved yet.
With that in mind, I decided to go to the club today. I need to let loose, dance, and drink if only to forget that one incredibly sexy guy is my baby daddy-and was once my husband.
Thank goodness we’re finally free to date and sleep with whoever we want now that the contract is out of the way.
Rosa has put Shawn to bed, and I’m grateful I won’t have to answer questions about my whereabouts tonight.
I slip into a short gown that falls well above my knees, style my hair, and apply makeup, giving myself smoky eyes and bold red lips.
I take a good look in the mirror and feel satisfied with the outcome. I look hot, no doubt about it. I’ve added some weight and become thicker, and I like it.
I’m about to step out of my room when Rosa’s voice stops me.
“Going out?” she asks. We’ve become close, so it’s not strange for her to check in on me.
I wasn’t expecting to see her standing in the hall, and her voice made me jump. I place my hand on my chest. “Oh, fuck, Rosa, you scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” she replies, folding her arms under her breasts and giving me that stern mother look.
I roll my eyes. “Rosa, what is it? Don’t tell me you’re ready to lecture me about what I’m wearing.”
She raises an eyebrow, clearly not backing down. “I just want you to be careful, Nadine. You know how the club scene can get.”
I sigh, in frustration. “I know, but I’m not a kid anymore. I just want to have a little fun and forget everything for a while.”
“Alright,” she says. She smiles and adds, “But Mr. West said he would be coming back later. What should I tell him when he arrives?”
The mention of Logan’s name irritates me, and I step closer to her. “I know your loyalty is to Mr. West, but I don’t want you interfering in whatever is going on between us. You should take care of Shawn, and I’d appreciate it if you stuck to that. Got it?” I say, my tone is sharper than I intended.
She simply smiles, showing no emotion, and replies, “Okay, but don’t let a good man slip through your fingers.” Her voice is low, and I’m surprised I can hear her.
Sometimes I think I have the hearing of a wolf because her words weren’t meant for me to catch.
I watched her for a moment, processing what she said. Her words linger, weighing on my mind. A good man? That’s exactly what I’m afraid of losing. But how can I let myself think about Logan when things are still so complicated?
Part of me wants to brush it aside, but another part feels the truth in her words. I know I should be cautious, but I can’t ignore the pull I feel toward Logan.
What if he does come back tonight? What if we end up face-to-face? The thought sends butterflies swirling in my stomach. I want to be strong and independent, but I also crave that connection we once had.
I take a deep breath, trying to push those thoughts aside and focus on the moment. I remind myself that tonight is about reclaiming my joy, about feeling alive. Whatever happens, I need to embrace it fully-no matter how complicated it gets.
As I place my hand on the doorknob and fling it open, I see Logan raising his hand to knock. His eyes widen in shock as he takes in my appearance.
For a moment, we both freeze, caught in an unexpected standoff. His gaze travels over me, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I’m not sure if it’s from his surprise or my nerves.
I know I’ve been told he’s coming back, but I never expected him to arrive so soon.
“L… Logan, what are you doing here?” I stutter, caught off guard by his presence.
His gaze travels from my hair to my chest, then to my waist and legs, as if he’s taking in every detail. The fact that he isn’t hiding his desire makes me want to kick him in the groin.
But truthfully, that simple gesture sends a shiver down my spine, and I instinctively clench my legs together, aware of the reaction it sparks within me.
I try to shake off the feelings swirling inside me, but they linger like a haunting melody. This isn’t how I wanted our reunion to go-not with him looking at me like that, making it hard to think straight.
I hesitate, my mind racing. Part of me wants to slam the door and pretend this moment never happened. But another part, the part that still yearns to know what he has to say, holds me back.
God, this man.
He raises his hand and hits the top of the doorframe, startling me. “Where the hell are you going dressed like this?” he demands, with a firm voice
I close my eyes, feeling the anger boiling over. “How dare he ask where I’m going dressed like this? What’s wrong with you, Logan? Can’t I live my life without you popping up at every corner? Who are you to question me?
I am nothing to you-just your baby mama. If you’re here to see your son, you can walk inside and leave me alone. I don’t have to answer your twisted questions.”
I shout, my anger boiling over. Damn it, this man just knows how to push my buttons.
“You’re not moving an inch out of this house dressed like that,” he says, anger flaring in his voice.
“Or else what?” I challenge, crossing my arms. “I’m asking you, Logan, what will you do?”
He looks momentarily lost for words, stepping back as confusion washes over his face. He didn’t expect this confrontation.
I can see the wheels turning in his mind, and part of me enjoys the power of the moment. He’s used to being in control, and right now, he’s not sure how to handle me.
He opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to catch in his throat. It’s as if we’re both standing on the edge of something, and I can’t decide if I want to leap or pull back.
But Logan isn’t the type to give up easily. “As long as you have my son, you’ll be the mother he deserves not someone dressed like she’s going for an easy hookup,” he says.
Before he can register his words, I raise my hand and smack him across the face.
“How dare you compare me to that?” I snap.
He doesn’t flinch; there’s no sign that my slap affected him. Instead, I feel the sting in my hand.
For a moment, we just stood there. I see the surprise in his eyes, but it quickly shifts to something I can’t quite put into words.
“Can you move aside? I need to go where I’m supposed to be,” I say, pushing him away.
I’m livid-he’s trying to control my life, and it’s getting on my nerves. But I turn to look at him when I hear the next thing he says.