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But not as much as I love the kissing.
Oh, the kissing. Logan and I have superseded my history of terrible almost kisses by extensive hours (and hours) of making new memories in their place. Especially on his new couch, which gives Fancy Chair a run for its money in terms of comfort. It’s some kind of lush microfiber that’s exactly the right mix of supportive and soft. I’m not saying it’s one of Logan’s best qualities … but it definitely doesn’t hurt.
We should probably also fit some talking into our time. Like, oh, maybe about the whole fake dating thing. And how I cast aside the rules and regret nothing. Yet. I regret nothingyet, because we haven’t talked about how this will end or what this really means.
Ifit means something to Logan.
It has to, right?I think as I turn into the neighborhood bordering downtown with its adorable—and pricey—craftsman-style bungalows. Nothing between us feels fake, and I can’t see Logan spending hours kissing me—especially knowing my history—without it meaning more to him.
But every time he tries to bring it up or I think about bringing it up, I panic. And since kissing is both amazing and a great conversation-ender, it’s my go-to weapon of mass distraction.
We’ll talk soon. Maybeafterthe game.
But the thought of the game makes my stress rise again. In addition to the normal excitement, I’ve got a whole host of other Logan-related fears. While I’ve always loved seeing him skate and seeing him bond with the team I’ve grown so close to is even better, I also can’t escape the knowledge that he’s being watched. And if he does well, at any moment, he could get called up and go back to Charlotte.
I want that for Logan because I know it’s what he wants. As for what I want … well, I want my cake (Logan being happy) and want to eat it too (Logan staying here). I have a feeling I’m going to end up with either cake I can look at but not touch or no cake at all.
Have I mentioned I really,reallylike cake?
Despite the crispness in the air, a tiny vestige of summer still warms my skin as the sun peeks over the top of the homes. Only a few people are up and moving about, and it feels like I have the neighborhood to myself.
A few blocks in, and I start to feel the usual shift in my mood. Until my phone rings and I see Brandon’s face on my screen.
I’ve been avoiding him since our confrontation. He’ll cool down. Eventually. And hopefully realize he has several apologies to hand out.
So, for now, I’m allowing myself a little time to exist in the confusion of where I stand with Logan and stew in my anger at Brandon.
A text comes through, and though I should ignore it and keep running, I can’t help checking.
Brandon:I’m coming to the game. See you tonight?
I make a face. Great. Now I’m going to be worried about the game and thinking about Logan and also knowing my brother is somewhere in the building. Lurking. Maybe ready to apologize—hopefully, since he’s a reasonable man—or to cause drama.
Sliding the phone into my pocket, I take off at a pace I know I can’t keep up for long.
* * *
I wait until I’m in my car to shoot Logan a text that I’m driving myself today. My run barely took the edge off my nerves. Now I’m thinking about the gameplusBrandon being thereplusall the things Logan and I need to talk about that I’m still not ready to talk about.
Let’s just stay in this happy bubble as long as possible, please! Happy bubbles of ignorant bliss are highly underrated. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
Ramesh meets me in my office, ready for today’s assignments. Though I’d prefer to do all the filming myself, I can’t be everywhere at once. Ramesh helps with the TikTok videos but also on game days to make sure we get as much footage as possible.
“Where do you want me today?” he asks, and I hand him a paper still warm from the printer.
“I’m going to have you do the arrivals,” I tell him.
On game days, capturing the guys arriving in their suits is one of the must-film moments. A montage of hockey men dressed to the nines is always good for social media.
Hockey players in uniform? Excellent.
Hockey players shirtless? Extraordinarily good.
Hockey players in tailored suits arriving for a game? Simply …epic.
I’m usually the one doing this since I have a good rapport with the guys. But with my extra nervy nerves I’m fighting, the last thing I want is to be near Logan in a suit. I feel like today of all days it might push me over some kind of edge.
“Actually,” Ramesh says, scratching his goatee. “Malik said he needed me inside for something.”
