“Miss Daisy,” he said, sauntering up to her. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
“You have to stop appearing then,” she replied, sipping her drink.
“Are you here on your own?”
Her eyes trailed over to Idris, his attention held hostage in a tense game of pool. “Actually,” she began, forcing out the words, “I’m here with…”
“You two can chat later,” a woman dressed in a figure-hugging red dress cut in. She elbowed her way between them before casting Daisy a forceful smile. “I need a drink, and he’s buying the first round.”
Logan shot Daisy an apologetic look and introduced his friends: Jessamine, with whom he worked with; David and Kitty, his flatmates; and Tad, who had once worked with him and now had a job as a surgeon for the NHS. And Kate, the woman in the red dress—the verytightandshortred dress. It was obvious to Daisy that she was interested in him, though Logan hadn’t seemed to realise it at the time.
They manoeuvred to the bar, and before she could mention him, Idris decided to cut his pool game short and walked over. He’d always been a bit possessive, and as he draped an arm over Daisy’s shoulder, she sensed that Logan guessed that.
“So, who’s this?” Idris asked after a moment, clearly waiting for her to make the introductions.
“Oh…erm…this is—”
“Logan,” he cut in.
“Well, Logan, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal my girlfriend away.”
Logan said nothing in return and watched as Idris pulled Daisy away.
Once they were out of audible range, Daisy pulled herself free from Idris, hurt, angered, and embarrassed. It was one thing to cause a scene, another to humiliate her.
“What is wrong with you?” she hissed, careful not to draw more attention. “He wasn’t doing anything!”
“Oh, come on,” Idris shot back. “You think I didn’t see how he looked at you? Look at you, dressed like you belong in King’s Cross.” He reached for her dress and yanked it up hard. She should’ve done something, covered herself, or tried to pull him outside—anything. But instead, she stood there frozen, feeling three dozen eyes all staring at them.
“You have to stop doing this. I’m not your property.”
Idris stilled, and his eyes darkened. “What did you just say?”
“I said,” she repeated, louder this time, “I’m not your property.”
Her pulse hammered in her throat as silence stretched between them. Then she saw Logan, leaning against the far wall, watching. He didn’t look away when their eyes met.
Idris’s expression twisted when she looked back. His jaw clenched, and he curled his hands into fists. “Don’t start this with me, Daisy. Not here.”
He reached for her, but she stepped back.
“Don’t,” she whispered, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Something snapped in Idris. His face contorted, and his hand lashed out. Not to hit, but to grab, to hold, to control. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
She spun around, avoiding his grasp, and made her way to the bathroom as Idris’s voice rang out, low and venomous.“You think you can walk away from me? You have no idea what you’ve just done.”Without looking back, she headed straight into the bathroom, tears clouding her vision. Logan followed a moment later.
“Daisy,” he said gently. “Are…are you okay?”
She turned away from him, unable to avoid his reflection in the mirror. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“You can’t be in here,” she muttered, reaching for a paper towel to wipe the running mascara from her face. “You know he won’t like it. Please leave.”
“Do you honestly think I care what he thinks?”
She bit down on her lip. “You might not, but I do.”
