Something important…
Before I could focus on it, Preston pulled me to the right. Instead of going toward the hotel, he was heading around the side of the building and the shadows there. My heart thumped even faster in my chest. If he took me back there and tried to kiss me, I was
The door to the coffee shop jangled opened, and Logan stepped outside.
Logan's sudden appearance startled me so much that I let go of Preston's hand. The beginning of the glove memory, whatever it had been, vanished as soon as I broke contact. And of course, I slipped on that stupid patch of black ice again. This time, I managed to catch myself before I fell on my ass.
Logan reached out a hand to help me, but I waved him off. One, because I'd embarrassed myself enough already. And two, because he wasn't wearing gloves. If I touched Logan's bare skin, I didn't know what kind of flash I'd get off him. I certainly didn't want to see him kissing Savannah or something else like that. I'd already witnessed
Logan saw my wary look at his outstretched fingers. His hand curled into a tight fist, and he dropped it to his side. Not too long ago, the Spartan had tried to kiss me, but just before our lips had touched, I'd realized I'd flash on him when he did-and that maybe I wouldn't like what I'd see.
I hadn't known Logan all that well back then, and I'd been afraid that I'd sense that he was laughing at me or just kissing me because he felt sorry for me, because he thought I was a total loser freak or would be an easy lay. He did have a reputation as a man-whore, after all, and those weren't exactly the sort of things you wanted to feel when you were making out with the cute guy you liked. I had some experience with that, since I'd once flashed on Drew Squires, my first and only boyfriend, and had realized that he was thinking about another girl while he was kissing me. I'd dumped Drew right then and there, but that still hadn't taken away my pain.
So I'd pulled back that night from Logan at the very last second-and I'd hurt his feelings because of it. He'd thought I hadn't wanted to kiss him because he was a Spartan, because they had a reputation for being so vicious and violent. I'd tried to explain about my psychometry magic, but he hadn't understood. From the dark expression on his face, it looked like he didn't understand right now either.
'Gypsy girl,' Logan said, staring at Preston instead of me. 'Who's your friend?'
'This is Preston. Preston, Logan. Logan goes to the North Carolina academy with me,' I said.
Preston held out his hand, which Logan reluctantly took and shook. I'd thought this would be the end of things and that Logan would head back inside to the party and Savannah, but instead the Spartan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the side of the building. Like he expected Preston and me to stay put and talk to him or something. Weird. Very weird.
'Spartan?' Preston asked, eyeing Logan's relaxed stance.
Logan nodded. He didn't ask what Preston was, which I thought was kind of rude. I might not know all the ins and outs of Mythos Academy, but sharing what kind of warrior you were was one of the main conversation starters between the kids at the different branches. I'd heard tons of them ask each other that question up on the ski slopes today, and I'd chatted with a few of the New York students myself. At least until they'd all started staring at me and asking me what kind of warrior a Gypsy really was and what kind of power I had.
It wasn't exactly a hush-hush secret that Gypsies were people gifted with magic by the gods, but it wasn't common knowledge either. Most of the kids and even some of the professors at Mythos thought I was just a different kind of warrior, which technically, I guess I was. I didn't really understand why so few people had heard of Gypsies before. It was something I kept meaning to ask Grandma Frost or Professor Metis about.
'Well, Logan,' I said in a bright voice. 'I'm sure you want to go back inside where it's warm. Preston and I were just leaving.'
'Oh? Where were you going?' Logan asked. 'Maybe I'll tag along. This party's getting a little tame. All the beer is gone already.'
I frowned. Why would Logan want to go with Preston and me? I mean, hello, the two of us had been about to disappear into the shadows and totally make out. Logan had to have guessed that. He had plenty of experience in that area. Maybe it was the way the Spartan stared at Preston, with icy, narrowed eyes, but suddenly, the strangest thought filled my mind. Logan wasn't-he couldn't be-there was no way that he was
Preston looked at Logan, then back at me. His eyebrows shot up in his face. He realized something was going on between Logan and me. I wish he'd clue me in on exactly what it was, because I had no idea.
'Actually, I should go check on my friends. They're over at another party across the village.' Preston turned to me and grinned. 'But I'd love to see you tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch?'
My heart lifted, and a matching grin curved my lips. He wanted to see me again. Maybe he really did like me after all. I felt like doing a happy dance, but of course, I was way too cool for that. I'd at least wait until I got back to my hotel room, alone, where no one would see.
'It's a date,' I said.
We pulled out our cell phones and swapped numbers.
'Just text me when you want to hook up, okay?' I told Preston.
He nodded, then gave me another killer smile. 'I will. I had fun tonight, Gwen.'
I smiled back at him. 'Me, too.'
For a second, Preston hesitated, like he was going to lean forward and kiss me on the cheek, but then his gaze cut to Logan, and he thought better of it. Preston nodded at me, stuffed his gloved hands into his jacket pockets, and set off across the alpine village.
As soon as he was out of sight, I whirled around and stabbed my finger at Logan, not quite poking him in the chest. 'What the hell was that about?'
'What are you doing, Gypsy girl?' Logan asked in a soft voice, instead of answering my question. 'You don't even know that guy.'
My mouth dropped open, and anger burned through my veins, chasing away the chill of the falling snow. 'Oh, cut the double-standard bullshit. I'd say I know just as much about Preston as you do about all the girls you've slept with. How many mattresses have you signed at Mythos, anyway? I'm willing to bet it's more than Preston has up in
