AllFreeNovel
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I make a face. “I wish. Yeah, it’s all me. I plan. I film. I edit. I post. I field comments and all that.”
“All for the low, low price of … not nearly what they should be paying you?”
“Pretty much,” I admit.
“And yet you stay?”
“I love my job. I love it here.”
“I sense a but,” Logan says.
But I wish I wasn’t having to budget so closely. I wish I got more respect, especially for how much I bring to the table and how much I’ve done to make the team what it is. And at times, Harvest Hollow does feel a little suffocating—mostly because of my family.
“But there are times I think about leveraging what I’ve done here for something else. Somewhere else,” I say. “But I love the guys and the whole Appies culture.”
“Did you ever think about skating with a partner?” Logan asks, changing subjects so fast I almost get whiplash.
It takes me a moment to get my bearings. “Pairs? No. It’s too hard to find a partner out here. Harvest Hollow has a decent number of hockey players. More now because of this.”
I gesture to the Summit and the rows of empty seats, the Appies banners hanging from the ceiling. Smaller than places Logan’s used to skating, I know. But it’s a luxury for an AHL team. Just the fact that the space isn’t shared and the team gets to practice here too is almost unheard of for the minor leagues.
“There are surprisingly few guys who want to wear tight pants or sequins and twirl. Plus, I can be a control freak, and I don’t always play well with others.”
Logan laughs at this, a full belly laugh with his head thrown back. It’s a full, rich sound, and I can’t help but grin in return. Even if he’s laughingatme. The sound echoes in the empty arena. Other than Javi, who is probably here because he’s always here, the facility is empty.
I nudge Logan with my shoulder. “What’s so funny?”
He smiles down at me, his green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just the idea of you not playing well with others. You’re like this little ball of sunshine everywhere you go, Park.”
The compliment zings through me. It doesn’t make sense that my throat gets tight with emotion, but it does anyway. “Thank you.”
“You even make guys like me smile.”
“Guys like you?” I ask.
“You know—the intense, serious ones.”
“You mean the grumpy ones?”
He frowns, but it’s playful. “I’m not grumpy.”
“Says the man whose nickname is Wolverine.”
“I thought you called me that because my name is Logan.”
“And how would you describe Logan’s character inX-Men?” I ask.
“Strong and awesome,” he says, just as I say, “Grumpy.”
Then we’re both laughing. This feels so nice. So much like the times Logan hung out at our place with me and Brandon, the three of us laughing and bickering back and forth. I hope at some point Logan and Brandon can talk and make up or whatever it is guys do after a fight, but even if they don’t, I’m not sorry at all to have this time with just the two of us. And if Brandon gets sour grapes about it, then that’s on him.
Before I realize what he’s doing, Logan lets go of my hand, then maneuvers quickly around me. I’m always surprised by the grace and speed some of these big guys have on the ice.
“I need to make sure I warm up all your fingers,” Logan says, taking my other hand. “Can’t have one hand going cold.”
“For a grump, you sure are thoughtful.”
“You’re the one who said I’m a grump. Maybe you need to change your stance on that.”
