Reunion

Logan's POV

The starlight cloth runs all the way across the ceiling of the massive room, which was the assembly hall back in our high school days, and the LED uplighters attached at the bottom of the four walls enclosing the room to create a dramatic effect, taking this 'High School Reunion 2014' to the next level.

I stare blankly at the blue lagoon in my hand, attempting to erase the image of Karolia from my mind. I recall her stunned expression when she saw me in a black satin tuxedo, and the way her eyes followed me discreetly as I left for the party with Natasha. It had been two hours since the reunion began, and I couldn't concentrate on anything because of a brown-eyed girl who kept passing through my mind.

Her expression of surprise when I threw her in the pool the day before was amusing. To say she was enraged would be an understatement. But I've always liked her feral expression. When she is angry, her ears turn bright red. I wanted nothing more than to watch her turn all red and bossy on me; it may sound creepy, but I can't help myself.

Also, I do like it when I'm in control. Like the previous night, when I was about to lose it when I smelled her amazing scent in the hallway. She feels so fragile when I hold her, but she has the power to make me insane.

I also saw Natasha's expression when I hugged Karolia in the pool. I considered kissing her but decided against it because I knew she'd slap me if I did, which would crush my man pride. Getting slapped for kissing without their consent is not the same as getting slapped for other reasons.

I know I acted on impulse, but I want Natasha to understand that I never intended to lead her into anything, and she no longer has the authority to make decisions in my life. Yes, we had something in the past, but it was mostly for business. I decided to date her, who is also the daughter of KMCA Automobiles' CEO, in order to secure contracts from multinational corporations and strengthen my business. I explained my intentions to her as well, and she was happy to comply. But I severed it when I realized I couldn't love her the way she wanted me to. We were good childhood friends, but it was nothing more than that for me.

Natasha was hesitant at first, but she gradually accepted my decision. I never understood the concept of having true feelings for someone until a certain brown-eyed girl came into my life. She made me question all of my norms and beliefs, and she continues to do so. Something about that frail girl makes me want to be good, good for her. I'm hoping this is just a passing fad and that this whole thing will fade away soon.

I scan the room, trying to get rid of the unidentified ache in my heart that had appeared for no apparent reason, and watch Patrick approach me from a distance.

"Hey there, man," He fist-bumped me, sat on the stool next to me, and set his phone down on the table. "How is the party going?"

"Good," I said as I sipped from my glass. "But not my type" I chuckled, returning my gaze to the decoration. The simple decoration is always my preference. Patrick joined in on my laughter.

"Can you believe Daniella already has five children and is expecting a sixth?" Patrick exclaimed in disbelief, and our gazes were drawn to her, who was standing a few feet away and talking to Matt, her hand on her huge protruding belly.

"She was the only one in our batch who despised physical relationships," he remarked, laughing.

"People change," I say, winking at him. "Like how you become all softie in front of Scarlet,"

Patrick bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to smile. "She was furious when I told her I couldn't take her to the reunion. "She was about to bite my head off because I forced her to buy a dress for this function, but thankfully I called Nat yesterday and she said only batchmates are invited," Patrick said, shaking his head.

"It's a good thing you called. "Imagine bringing her here only to have her ejected." I laughed. "She would have murdered you."

"You're right," Patrick said, his face showing how horrified he was at the thought. We shared a moment of silence in thought, which was quickly broken when Natasha entered the room.

"Pat, I need your help in something," Natasha says, giving Patrick puppy eyes that don't seem to bother him. However, when Natasha whispers something into Patrick's ears, his eyes widen in recognition, and he quickly excuses himself and follows Natasha's lead backstage. The meeting began with a speech by the prom king and queen, who were chosen in our senior year of high school and were none other than Matt and Natasha. They both extended a warm welcome to everyone in attendance, including our few teachers who were able to make it. It was a pleasure to meet everyone. We all reminisced about our youth.

After an hour, we all took a break and went to get some drinks and snacks. Natasha was nowhere to be found because she was too busy organizing the event. I saw her running around the hall a few times here and there. Patrick and I were talking with some old friends when I took a quick break to get a drink, so here I am.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to request that you all return to your seats for the next event, known as the 'Secret Exchange.'" I hear the anchor announce, and the auditorium quickly fills up with everyone. It's amusing to see how we adults continue to engage in such games, but I went along with it. I smiled as I watched our friends' reactions to their gifts, and when it was my turn, I went on stage to present a Rolex watch to one of my dear friends. Before getting down and continuing with the event, we exchanged a quick bro hug and a fist bump. Everyone applauded when Natasha entered the stage, and I noticed the wide smile on her face.

"Before I present my gift, I'd like to say a few words about this person, who has grown to be a very special person in my heart since high school. We made so many beautiful memories together, and I hope we continue to make many more so that I can cherish them for the rest of my life." Throughout her speech, I noticed a lot of eyes on me, and when Natasha called my name, I realized why.

As I ascended the steps, I heard loud cheers again and was taken aback when Natasha hugged and kissed me on the cheek. I was surprised and perplexed by her remarks about me, but I decided to think about it later and focus on the present. When I open the box, I find a white T-shirt covered in signatures and greetings. I quickly realized why Natasha had entered my room the day before. This was what she was thinking.

When the music began to play over the hall's loudspeakers, everyone began to dance. Because I wasn't in the mood to join, I watched it from afar while sipping champagne and thinking about the brown-eyed beauty. I considered calling her just to check on her and hear her voice, but I decided against it because I didn't know how she would react. When I felt a hand on my own that was resting on the table, I was jolted out of my reverie.

"Why are you drinking alone here when everyone else is having a good time?" Natasha grumbled in a high-pitched tone.

"Not interested," I muttered as I sipped my drink.

"You're such a sourpuss. Did you like my gift, by the way?" She inquired, her gaze piqued.

"I did, indeed. It was considerate of you." I thank you with a smile.

"Then why don't you dance with me to thank me for the gift?" She asked, her eyes wide, and I shook my head, dismissing the idea.

"Please, L. As I stated earlier, I want to make more memories with you. That is the only thing I ask of you." I ponder her words and eventually give in when she squeezes my hands.

As soon as we take the center spot on the dance floor, the lights and the song change to a more warm and deep tone, and I saw many people grab a partner and dance to the song's slow rhythm. When Natasha looked into my eyes, I could only see the big dark brown ones, not the grey ones. Natasha kept saying how great it felt, and I just gave her a small smile here and there. I couldn't open my mouth because I was afraid I'd say the name of someone I'm dying to hold right now.

When Patrick called me on my phone, I was relieved of my misery. He asked me to meet him at the entrance, and I silently thanked him in my head for rescuing me from my purgatory situation. I quickly excused myself from Natasha and made my way to the school's main entrance, where I found Patrick, who was enraged as hell.

"What's the issue?" As soon as I approached him, I asked. He didn't say anything but instead thrust his phone screen into my face. I saw the picture he was showing me and focused my attention on it, trying to identify the woman wearing a blue body-fit knee-length dress and holding a bottle of vodka in her hand. She appears to be having a good time dancing with a guy in what appears to be a pub.

Someone had texted and sent the photo to Patrick. 'She's got moves, bro.'

"Is that...?" Pat nodded vehemently when I asked him about the picture. It's no surprise he appeared to be about to murder someone.

"Who sent this to you?" I inquired.

"Nicholas," he hissed, and I pursed my lips. Patrick and Nicholas don't get along; in fact, if they're in each other's company for five minutes, they'll rip each other's heads off.

"I have to get going," he says, running his hands through his neatly gelled hair. I see him turning bright red and repeatedly clenching his fist.

"I'll accompany you." I quickly found myself saying. Whatever it takes to get out of here. Pat indicated with a nod of his head. We didn't wait to tell anyone about our departure; we just left.

On the way, Patrick called Nicolas and threatened him and his gang with his wrath if they didn't stay away from her. He quickly learned the location of the pub and forwarded it to me.

I tried calling Karolia's number and the house number several times while driving to the pub, but they were both unanswered. Scarlet is her friend, so if she's out having fun in a club, Lia will be as well... I shook my head, attempting to block out the negative thoughts. I try to relax my mind, but it keeps coming up with the worst-case scenarios. I was so frustrated that I wanted to pull out all of my hair. My hands turn white as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and park the car in the designated spot.

As soon as we walked into the pub, we could hear the loud noise of disco music piercing our ears, which only added fuel to my already racing heart. We push our way through the crowd of sweating people and scan the area. I cast my gaze across the dance floor, hoping that I won't find the woman I'm looking for. I then sense Pat's stillness beside me and turn to find him glaring at something, and as I follow his gaze, I realize why he looked furious.

Scarlet was dancing with a vodka bottle in her hand, while some random guy's hand was all over her body. You could tell she was drunk out of her mind by the way she danced. You could also say that the guy she was dancing with was taking full advantage of her situation. Patrick's rage was palpable next to me.

Before I could say anything, he stormed past me and pushed the guy away from Scarlet. When the guy protested and tried to pull Scarlet back, Patrick's fist collided with the guy's face. The man collapsed on the floor, clutching his swollen left eye.

I'm not sure if it was the heels or the alcohol that caused Scarlet to lose her balance and fall into Patrick's arms. I watched him look at her for a few seconds before lifting her one hand above his shoulder for support and carrying her towards me. As Scarlet lay in his arms, I could hear her speaking gibberish. I was expecting him to be enraged. But he didn't seem bothered, and he walked towards me with a relieved expression and a calm posture.

I looked at him, perplexed. He asked, "What?" as if he could read my mind. "We were looking for her, and now she's found," He said calmly.

"Are you no longer frustrated?" I inquired, still perplexed.

"Yes, I was. But I took it out on that dick," he said as he gave the guy the death stare. If appearances could kill, the guy would be buried six feet underground.

"Well, good punch," I smirked, and Patrick snorted. "I wanted to do more than a punch that f**ker, but she looks like she's going to pass out any second," he said, looking Scarlet in the eyes with warm eyes.

"Should we leave?" he asked as he snatched her into his arms.

Scarlet muttered drowsily, "Wait, I'm missing something."

"What exactly is it, babe?" Patrick inquired, a frown on his face. It's strange to see him acting all soft and caring as if he hadn't just punched someone to death a few seconds before.

"I'm not sure. But there's something I'm missing," she said as her eyes closed.

"Not anything. Rather like someone." I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my rage in check.

"What exactly do you mean?" Patrick inquired. I turned my head in the direction of the sight. This was a surprising sight. It was almost as if Patrick and I had switched characters.

I saw Lia, who was struggling to get out of the clutches of some guy while wearing a strapless maroon dress that stopped at her mid-thigh. She was holding a tequila bottle in her hand. She appeared to be as inebriated as Scarlet. My whole body shook with rage as I noticed the guy squeezing her waist and pulling her closer to his body as if to support her. He has no right to touch her! I stormed towards them and found myself punching that son of a bitch right in the nose in a matter of seconds. Immediately following the impact, blood oozed from his nose. I saw how terrified he appeared and immediately tried to open his mouth, but I cut him off with another punch to the stomach. I know if I punched him again, he'd be dead in a second, so I stop myself to keep my hands under control. I clenched his shirt collar and slammed him against the nearest wall.

"If you touch her again, I'll rip off those arms of yours," I said coldly. Then I threw him to the ground and walked over to Lia. She was still sipping on her tequila. I quickly snatched the bottle from her grasp and threw it away.

"What the hell! That was...sss my drink. How d-dare you take it f-from me!" She yelled angrily, lisping slightly, like a three-year-old. I could tell she was struggling to keep her balance, so I threw her over my shoulder, knowing she couldn't walk in those heels, let alone in this state.

"Mm, I'm going to throw up." My eyes widened as I realized what she meant, and I quickly helped her to her feet. She collapses onto my shoulders, and I scan her face to see if she is unconscious. I could smell the strong scent of vodka mixed with her natural scent, which soothed my senses. I picked her up in bridal fashion and walked over to Patrick, who was smirking.

"Don't," I said as he was about to open his mouth, and his grin widened. I said my goodbyes to Patrick, who was going to take Scarlet to his house tonight. I leaned down and slowly opened the car door, putting Lia in the passenger seat. I was about to straighten up when I noticed her hand still clutching my shirt. Our faces were only a few inches apart.

"Can you tell me who you are?" She inquired, perplexed. She had forgotten about me. Nice!

Without saying anything, I took her hands off my shoulders and placed them on her lap. Then I buckled her seatbelt and shut the door after making sure she was comfortable. I walked over to the other side of the car and sat in the driver's seat. Patrick said he'd call a cab for them, so I didn't waste any time getting out of here.

I noticed Lia shifting in her seat and hugging herself, so I took off my coat and covered her with it before turning on the heater in the car. She wrapped her arms around the coat and sank deeper into the seat, snuggling herself, before drifting off. I started the car and exited the parking lot.

Why didn't I want anyone to touch her? Why do I feel the need to protect her and care for her? These were my thoughts throughout the entire ride. I caught a fleeting glance at Lia and was surprised to see her awake.

"I'm not sure who you are. B-But, unlike that Hot- heath, you're cho sweet." She mumbled something sleepily. Perhaps she isn't all that awake after all.

"Hotheath?" I inquired, not understanding the term "hotheath."

"Yesh, dhe handsome hothead-d," she says. I look at her, clearly understanding what she was saying. She dozed off again, this time with a small smile on her face, making me wish she was sober so I could hear those words from herself again.

To try to control my heartbeat, I mumbled some curses under my breath. We arrived home after 25 minutes. I got out of the car and crossed the street to the other side. I opened the door slowly and unbuckled her seatbelt. She yawned loudly, her eyes closing again.

"Come on," I said, leaning down and picking her up in a bridal fashion, pressing her against my chest.

"You are so warm," she said softly, pressing her face against mine. I kept quiet while carrying her up the stairs to her room. I carefully placed her on the bed and kissed her on the forehead. Then I exited her room and returned my gaze to her before closing the door behind me.

God! Why does she have to be so stunning that I can't take my gaze away from her?

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