His After The Heartbreak (BL)

Chapter 9— Wedding Invitation

Logan's POV

Alexis's hand shot up, ready to slap me across the face.

I caught her wrist mid-air, gripping it tightly. My jaw clenched as I stared into her wide, startled eyes.

"Do you think I'm like Tyler?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous. "That you can slap me whenever you feel like it? That I'll just stand here and take it?"

Her breath hitched.

"If you dare slap me," I continued, tightening my grip just enough to make her flinch, "I promise I'll return it tenfold." My voice dropped to a whisper, filled with venom. "I don't care about being the bigger person."

She swallowed hard, and her hand trembled in my grasp. I could feel the rapid pulse at her wrist. She wasn't just startled—she was scared.

Good.

I let go of her roughly, and she staggered back, her arm falling limply to her side. She glanced around, suddenly aware of the growing number of students watching us. Whispers rippled through the crowd, but I didn't care.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and for a second, I thought she'd finally leave me the hell alone. But instead, she did something that made my stomach twist with disgust.

She begged.

"Logan, please…" Her voice cracked as her tears fell freely. "Give me a chance. I swear I won't mess it up."

I stared at her, unimpressed.

She sniffled, stepping closer. "I don't care about what you said earlier. All I care about is you. I just want you, Logan. Only you."

I scoffed. "Is that right?"

She nodded desperately, her hands clutching the front of my shirt. "I won't hurt you like I hurt Tyler. I swear."

I grabbed her wrists and pushed her away, my patience gone.

"So, you knew you were hurting Tyler?" I asked, my voice sharp.

She bit her lip, hesitating before nodding slowly.

My lips curled in disgust. "Then tell me, Alexis—if you knew how much you were hurting him, why did you keep doing it?"

Her eyes flickered with something dark. Guilt? No. Not even close.

"I don't give a fuck about Tyler," she admitted, her voice suddenly cold. "I never loved him."

That made me pause.

She tilted her head, smiling slightly despite the tears still fresh on her cheeks. "I've always loved you, Logan. Tyler was just… an opportunity. A stepping stone. A way to get closer to you."

A slow, cruel smirk spread across my face as I let out a humorless laugh.

"That's funny," I mused, watching her eyes light up with false hope. "Because the same goes for you."

Her smile faltered.

My smirk widened. "You're nothing but an opportunity to me. A stepping stone. A way to get closer to the person I actually want."

Her mouth parted in shock, her tears forgotten. "W-What?"

I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"

Her entire face crumbled.

She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "Who is it?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

I yanked my arm free with a scoff. "You're in no position to ask me that, Alexis. Just know this—people don't always get what they want."

With that, I turned to walk away.

But her voice stopped me.

"You're going to pay for this, Logan," she hissed.

I turned my head slightly, glancing at her over my shoulder. Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, I said, "The only one paying for anything here is you."

I let my eyes rake over her, slow and deliberate. Then, with a smirk, I added, "A cheap little slut like you will throw herself at anything. It's honestly pathetic."

Gasps echoed around us.

The crowd erupted into whispers, but I didn't stick around to see Alexis's reaction. I walked straight to my car, got in, and drove off without looking back.

I was done.

I parked in the garage and stepped out, rolling my shoulders. The moment I walked inside, my father's voice rang through the house.

"You're home early." His deep voice carried from the dining room. "That's unusual for you." He stepped into view, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't find enough girls to make out with today?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm a changed man, Dad."

His laughter was sharp and mocking. "You? Change? That's a good one."

I shook my head, already regretting this conversation. "I wasn't feeling today's class. Just needed time alone. A shower. Sleep. Maybe some peace and quiet."

My father smirked. "You sound like a man who's lost all his money."

I shot him a flat look. "Not everything is about money."

Without waiting for his response, I headed upstairs.

The moment I shut my bedroom door, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the bathroom.

The hot water burned against my skin, but I welcomed the sting. I braced my hands against the cool tiles, head bowed, as steam filled the space. My mind was a fucking mess.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push it all away, but it clung to me like a second skin.

Twenty minutes later, I stepped out, dripping wet. I grabbed a towel, lazily running it over my hair before tossing it aside. I didn't even bother to dry off properly before heading to my bed, muscles heavy with exhaustion.

Then my phone buzzed.

My heart jumped.

I snatched it off the nightstand, unlocking the screen in a flash.

Tyler?

But no. It was just some random gossip blog notification.

I stared at the screen, my pulse still racing.

I was pathetic.

With an irritated growl, I threw my phone onto the bed and collapsed next to it, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.

I was so damn tired.

Everything felt like too much. The weight in my chest, the constant turmoil in my head—I needed something to drown it out, something to numb the thoughts clawing at the edges of my mind.

Just as I was slipping into sleep, a knock at my door jolted me back.

I groaned. "Who is it?"

A soft voice answered, "It's me, sir."

A slow grin spread across my face.

At least something was going right today.

I pulled the door open, not bothering to cover myself. The maid's eyes widened as she took in my naked form, but I didn't give her time to react before I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her inside.

She gasped as I pushed her onto the bed, already working on her clothes.

She was about to kiss me when I caught her chin between my fingers, stopping her inches from my mouth.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," I murmured, my eyes sharp. "You're just a maid. What makes you think you have the right to kiss me?"

Her breath hitched. "I-I'm sorry, sir."

She lowered her gaze, bowing her head in submission.

Her lips trailed down my chest, soft and eager, her breath warm against my skin.

I barely reacted.

She took it as permission to continue, her tongue flicking over my navel before she sank lower, her hands gripping my thighs.

I felt the heat of her breath as she hovered over me, her lips parting—

For a moment, that familiar rush of control, of power, surged through me. This was what I knew. This was what I was good at—taking and discarding, breaking and leaving nothing behind.

But then, out of nowhere, the feeling vanished.

I frowned.

The usual fire, the hunger, the satisfaction—gone.

"Stop!!"

The maid hesitated. "Did I do something wrong?"

I didn't answer. I just pulled away, my frustration mounting.

She tried to touch me again, but I grabbed her wrist and shoved her back.

"Don't." My voice was cold. "Don't ever touch me against my will."

She scrambled away, eyes wide with fear.

"Put your clothes on," I ordered, my tone flat.

She nodded quickly, fixing herself as fast as she could.

I exhaled, running a hand through my damp hair.

"What did you came here to do before all these?" I muttered.

She hesitated. "Your father wants to see you, sir."

I sighed. "Tell him I'm coming."

She bowed slightly before scurrying out of the room.

I sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my hands down my face.

What the hell was happening to me?

I had never turned a woman away before. Never once lost interest like that. But tonight…

I clenched my jaw, I needed to get a grip

I went straight to my dressing room to get something to wear and I settled for a jogger and a T shirt.

At the Dining Table

I walked downstairs, finding my father seated at the long dining table. He was already halfway through his meal, cutting into a perfectly seared steak with practiced precision.

"Join me," he said without looking up.

It wasn't a request.

I sat down, my appetite nonexistent, but I knew better than to argue. The table was set with an expensive spread—steak, mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, wine poured into crystal glasses. The usual.

I picked up my fork and took a bite. It was good. Another bite. Better.

But I still felt nothing.

I set the fork down. "Why did you call me?"

My father wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking. "We've been invited to an event."

I raised an eyebrow. "What event?"

"A wedding."

I groaned, already disinterested. "Do I have to go?"

"Yes."

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Whose wedding is so important that you can't go without me?"

A slow smirk curled his lips. "Mr. Smith's."

I froze.

The air in the room shifted.

I stared at him, my grip tightening on the armrest. "You mean… Tyler's dad is getting married?"