“Right, that makes it better.” Logan laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. The din of the party was more of background noise from the kitchen, which he appreciated. He was getting one hell of a headache between the pot and the noise. “It’s not beer, you’re not supposed to chug it, you heathen.” He shook his head, taking her cup and draining the rest of it. “Unless you’re a borderline alcoholic with one hell of a tolerance, that is.” He added, watching her mix a drink.<br/><br/>“Such a chick.” He muttered. “Exactly. He’s leaving in a few days. What he needs isn’t his buddy, what he needs is a few joints, a few beers, and a few good lays. I’ve helped with what I’m willing to, but there’s a line I won’t cross in the name of brotherly love.” He laughed, frowning slightly when he noticed her almost... staring at him for a moment. Before he could comment on it, his least favorite kind of drunk entered the room - the sexual predator kind. Although he entered with friends, the guy’s attention was immediately hooked on Kathy’s ass. Now, Logan was no prude. He was a bartender, he’d seen sleazy women, he’d gone home with a couple of them. It wasn’t his business if Kathy wanted to hook up with some random asshole.<br/><br/>But when he saw Kathy leaning away, saw the dick trap her against the counter, and heard just a fraction of what he said, it was like his vision went red, hearing the blood rush to his head. The testosterone did what it did, and his gaze almost honed in on the prick. He didn’t realize he was moving for a split second before he grabbed the guy by his shirt, shoving him away from Kathy. He used more force than he thought, the drunk almost falling on his ass. “What’s your problem?” The guy snapped. Logan should’ve left it there, he knew that. The guy was drunk, they’d all done things they regretted when they’d had too much. But Logan didn’t achieve his status of bartender because he was a well-meaning, intelligent guy. He got it because he knew how to serve liquor and how to break up a fight.<br/><br/>“Back off.” Logan warned simply, giving the guy one shot. He could see the resolve in the guy’s eyes harden, saw him shift his weight. He didn’t have time to dodge before he felt pain explode in his jaw, making him grunt in pain. He grabbed the guy’s arm before he could go for another swing, holding him in place and slamming his fist into his gut. He could’ve, and felt like he should’ve, kept going, sent him to the hospital. For the first time in his life, Logan used some self control, taking a step back. “Take your friend home. Now.” He snapped at one of the guy’s friends, taking his recently-refilled cup from him and setting it on the counter, forcing a very fake, pleasant smile. He waited for them all to be gone before walking to the freezer and grabbing an ice cube, pressing it against his jaw.<br/><br/>“Spring for pants next time? I’m happy to get punched for you, but I’d rather not have to worry about it every time someone stares at your ass.” He suggested to Kathy, picking up his bottle once again. “And don’t tell Matt. He’ll just get pissed, then he definitely won’t get any tail. Everyone needs a good lay after a party.” He shrugged.