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“It’s yours,” he says.
“I can’t accept this. It probably cost a few hundred dollars.”
“Try a few thousand.” Felix appears behind Logan in the doorway.
“What?” My voice is barely a whisper.
I gape at Felix, who’s casually leaning on the doorframe. Then I gape at Logan. Finally, I gape at Fancy Chair. A fewthousanddollars?
The other day, I saw an older car on Facebook marketplace for two grand. Sure, it was rusted and had a million miles and the muffler was falling off, but it was a CAR. A chair can’t possibly cost that much.
Can it?
Like I’ve been burned, I yank my hand away from Fancy Chair and step back. With a heavy sigh and an eye roll, Logan pushes the chair forward, backing me into the small area behind my desk.
“Thanks, man,” he says to Felix. “Super helpful.”
“What?” Felix asks. “Buying gifts is totally acceptable when it’s for yourgirlfriend.”
For a few long seconds, Logan and I both freeze—eyes locked on one another’s. The guys have barely teased me about Logan, and he hasn’t mentioned finding crop tops in his locker again. Things haven’t been weird. I assumed that meant they didn’t ever hear about the upgrade from date todating. I mean, why would they? Our sticky notes said we wouldn’t tell the team more than they needed to know.
But Felix just called me Logan’s girlfriend.
Don’t like it too much,I tell myself. Felix probably just read too much into the situation. Maybe Logan buying the chair made Felix think things are official. A two-thousand-dollar chair will do that.
But I’mnotLogan’s girlfriend. So,why did he buy me a two-thousand-dollar chair?
“It’s a great chair, Parker,” Felix says, his words snapping both Logan and me out of ourgirlfriend-induced trance. “Keep it.”
“She might not have fought me on it,” Logan says, returning the chair behind my desk. I stay pressed against the wall, “if you hadn’t told her how much it cost. It wasn’t a few thousand dollars, by the way.”
Felix coughs something that sounds liketwo thousand.
I narrow my eyes at Logan. “I can’t accept this,” I tell him, forcing my gaze to his green eyes. “Take it back.”
Instead of doing what I ask, Logan spins the chair to face me and, before I can protest, bodily forces me to sit. I try to wiggle away, but his hands are a firm and unrelenting weight on my shoulders.
“Logan!” I protest.
“Shhh.” He’s leaning down over the back of the chair now, his breath fanning over my cheek. “Just accept Fancy Chair,” he whispers. “Don’t think about the money.”
Oh, I’m not thinking about the money. I’m thinking only about Logan’s proximity to me. His lips, which are inches from my skin. His hands, so strong and steady on my shoulders. The heat of him.
Is the man coal-powered or something? He’s like a furnace.
“So,” Logan says, his hands giving my shoulders a squeeze that morphs into a light massage. “Are we agreed?”
“Hmm?” This comes out of my mouth as less of a word and more a low groan as he kneads muscles I didn’t know were sore.
“You’ll keep Fancy Chair. And not worry about the money.”
The wordmoneyrings like a Pavlovian bell. I start to struggle again. “Ihaveto worry about the money,” I say, fighting against Logan. He doesn’t budge, and I’m trapped here in a delicious dungeon.
“There’s a no-return policy,” Logan says. “If you don’t accept it, I’ll have to give it to someone else.”
“Take the chair, Boss,” Felix says from the door. “You deserve it.”
“Shut up, Goalie. Mind your business,” I tell him.
