OBSESSION

THREE.

Logan couldn't explain it, couldn't shake the feeling that he and Bethany were caught in a strange orbit, their paths crossing with a magnetic inevitability. It wasn't like him to dwell on anyone, especially someone he barely knew, but Bethany had hooked him in a way he couldn't ignore.

From the moment she walked into Monday's meeting, poised but unaware of the quiet storm she stirred, he'd felt it—a pull he could neither explain nor resist.

She seemed determined to keep her distance, her gaze drifting to him only in brief, stolen glances. But Logan was nothing if not observant, and he didn't miss the faint tremor in her hand when she'd flipped her notebook open, nor the way her eyes softened, lingering on him even when she tried to look away.

And when she spoke, finishing his thought with the word "obsessed," she hadn't just completed his sentence—she'd reached inside his mind.

She'd seen what he wanted, understood it with an unsettling accuracy, and for a moment, he'd felt stripped bare. The realization unsettled him. How could she see him so clearly, when everyone else only saw what they expected to see—a powerful man with a famous last name?

But that night at AA, when he'd heard her talking about him with an indifference that bordered on disdain, he'd felt the blow more acutely than he'd admit. He wasn't used to being dismissed, especially not by someone like her, someone who clearly stirred something deeper in him.

She spoke as if he were just another arrogant rich guy, shallow and spoiled, and it had stung. The rational choice was to let it go, to chalk her up as another person who didn't see him, who didn't care to look beyond the surface.

Yet here he was, watching her across the bar with a quiet intensity that even his best friend couldn't ignore.

"You've been staring at that girl all night," Bryce's voice cut through his thoughts, low but sharp. "Why don't you just go say something instead of brooding over there?"

Logan clenched his jaw, his gaze still locked on Bethany, who seemed completely unaware of his attention from across the room. "I'm not brooding," he muttered, though the denial rang hollow.

"You're staring right now, Logan," Bryce pointed out, his tone edging into amusement. Without warning, he clapped a heavy hand on Logan's back, jolting him enough to make his beer slip in his grip. The bottle clinked against the table as he barely managed to steady it before it tipped, spilling a bit onto his fingers.

"Careful," Logan growled, shooting his friend a dark look as he reached for a napkin. Bryce, however, merely grinned, completely unfazed.

"Guess you'll have to go to the bar for a new drink," Bryce said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Might as well grab her number while you're at it."

Logan didn't respond, the familiar smirk fading as he glanced back at Bethany. The thought of just walking over there, of cutting through her defenses and getting her to drop the wall she seemed so intent on keeping up, was as tempting as it was infuriating.

The idea of someone dismissing him, making assumptions about who he was—he'd built his entire life on proving people wrong. But Bethany wasn't like everyone else. Her opinion mattered more than he wanted to admit, and he couldn't ignore the low burn of frustration at the fact that she had already made up her mind about him.

It wasn't often Logan felt outmatched. But as she left the bar, vanishing into the night without so much as a second glance, he felt a pang of something he rarely experienced: disappointment. For once, he wasn't certain of himself. And it only made him more determined.

By Wednesday, Bethany was feeling the weight of Logan's presence even before he arrived. Walking into the office that morning, everything felt different. Every glance, every murmur of conversation seemed heavier.