"Okay, let me make this clear. A: I did not kiss you. It was an accident. You needed glasses because you can't see where you're going. You bumped into me, and then you kissed me." "Not from my perspective," Logan interjected. "A: you were walking like you were dawdling with the fairies.
When I saw you, I was gonna talk to you about my ruined shirt, but then you had to bump into me first. Then you even dragged me down and kissed me without my consent."
"I didn't kiss you without your permission," Evonne argued. "Oh, like I'm gonna Permit you to kiss me, then. You're not my type," Logan lied. He didn't need to give her permission to kiss him.
She could smash those lips into him again and he wouldn't give a fig. He wouldn't mind doing it all over again, right here, right now, in front of the women's restroom.
This woman was so definitely his type. "You are so not my type either," Evonne retorted. "Arrrgghhh, how come every time I see you, you always managed to embarrass me?" she grumbled to herself, dusting invisible specks off her clothes. "You're one to talk.
You spat at me when last we met. Remember? Not to mention yanking off my towel when you delivered those flowers. I should sue you for that too." "It was to the wrong address.
I didn't confess to you or anything. And regarding the spitting incident, you were in the wrong," Evonne explained. "I was in the wrong?" Logan questioned.
"How am I in the wrong when you were the one that spat on me?" "You were in the wrong because you were the one who bought me that stupid drink. It tasted so disgusting.
What was I supposed to do with that foul potion in my mouth? Swallow it? Of course not. I had to throw it up somewhere. If I died from that poison, then you would be the number one suspect on the list.
And if I got sick, then you would be held responsible." Evonne jabbed at Logan's chest to show she meant business. "People don't die of drinking spirits. And look at you. You seem healthy enough to me."
"I wouldn't be if I didn't throw up," Evonne argued. "All right, why on me, then?" "You were right in my face." "Well… well…" Logan thought. Shit, he needed a good comeback. This woman was throwing him into a corner. He'd never lost a verbal battle before.
When he couldn't think of any other accusation or retort to stab back at her, he went back to the beginning. "You were the one to ask me to buy that drink, remember, acting all cute and innocent."
There, surely he was in the right now. Can't argue with that one, he thought, grinning. "Ha-ha-ha, I want to laugh. I did not act all cute and innocent. You were the one who came on to me. You came and sat next to me first," Evonne challenged.
"Well, that's because you were all alone, sitting there by yourself, looking so miserable that I had to rescue you," Logan rebutted.
"From what? From hungry predators looking for nice, innocent prey for dinner that night? I bet you were that Logan, you Lothario!" Evonne shouted. Thinking they were both on an even score now, she grinned secretly.
Oh, how true her meaning is, Logan thought. This Logan, acting like a Logan, did prey on innocent young girls some nights—oh, who was he kidding—almost every night. "You're wrong, sweetheart.