Connell (Carolina Reapers 3)

“But everything is good there?” I asked.

Cannon looked up quizzically.

“I was asking Logan about Blaire,” I explained.

He grunted and went back to his book.

“Yeah, I mean, I think so. Don’t get me wrong, she drives me batshit crazy with some things, but when it comes down to it, she puts up with our schedules and my shit, which we all know can’t be easy.”

“She wasn’t complaining when she dropped thirty-five k of your money on a handbag,” Cannon said without even looking up from the pages.

“Okay, that was…” Logan sighed. “That was utterly fucking ridiculous, but when push comes to shove, I guess it was important to her and it was within my means to give it to her, so why not?”

“Because you didn’t give it to her, she gave it to herself?” Cannon suggested.

Logan’s head tilted.

I flattened my lips and looked anywhere but at him.

“Connell gave Annabelle a hundred grand in fucking ostriches and you have a problem with thirty-five?” Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Holy shit. Listen to what I’m saying.” Cannon put his book down with obvious annoyance. “Connell gave his woman a hundred grand worth of birds. While insane and maybe a little psycho, that was a choice he made. Your woman bought herself a thirty-five thousand dollar purse on your credit card. There’s a difference.”

“She loves me,” Logan said quietly. “And that money was nothing. A drop in the bucket. So what does it matter if it makes her happy?”

“She loves your social media following,” Cannon muttered.

“Don’t fucking go there,” Logan snapped, then turned to me. “Do you feel the same?”

Oh, bloody hell. “Why are you dragging me into this?”

“Because I want your opinion!”

“Look, if anyone said something even remotely off-color about Annabelle, I’d rip their heart out and shoot it at the net. I’m not going to say shit about your girlfriend, that’s for sure.” I leaned back and prayed for a miracle. For the weather to clear so we could take off, or for lightning to strike me dead. Immediately. Right fucking now. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Okay, I’m giving you a free pass.” Logan pinned me with narrowed eyes.

“There’s no such thing as a free pass. No matter if you say it’s a free pass or not, you’ll remember exactly what I said. And then you’ll marry her and it will be really fucking awkward at your wedding when you remember that I said something, and even when I tell you that you said I had a free pass, it won’t bloody matter!”

“He’s right,” Cannon said, tapping his fingers along his jaw. “However, I have no such problem telling you what I think.”

“Already noted,” Logan retorted.

“Let’s try this a little differently,” I suggested. “Is there anything about the lass that worries you?”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “Okay, I think she’s great, and she makes me really happy, but…”

“But what?” I asked.

“But I’m not thrilled with how public she makes everything,” he answered with a shrug. “I get that she’s an influencer—whatever the hell that means—but does the world really care what she has for breakfast? Or what I had for lunch? Does she have to post moments I think are private?”

“Nope,” Cannon answered, which earned him my glare.

“But then again, that’s her job, right? She’s paid to post stuff. She literally makes her living posting shit on social media. She would never show up at the rink and tell me how to do my job so how can I tell her how to do hers?”

“Well, your job doesn’t really involve exploiting her,” I said slowly, hoping it wasn’t about to lose me my friend.

He blinked, then moved like he was going to speak, only to stop and blink again. “You think that’s what she’s doing?”

“Exploiting you?” I clarified.

“Yes,” Cannon answered. “She boosts her following by using your fame. You refuse to model, which is what-the-fuck ever, but people like to look at your face for some reason, and she has the monopoly on you. People follow her to see you. Of course she makes you happy, she can’t afford not to.”

Logan sat back and let his head fall against the couch. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know?” I asked.

“I’m not an idiot. I know she’s...used me to get ahead, but I have to ask myself how much I care, I guess.”

Cannon narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry. Say that again.”

“If she makes me happy, then I should be the one to determine if the cost is too steep, right?”

“I can’t argue with that.” I shook my head.

“Right. She’s never hurt any of you, and she hasn’t hurt me, either. Do I have concerns? Sure. But I’m not blind to them.” He looked at us in turn, making sure we understood his point.

“Got it,” I said. “Subject is closed.”

Cannon sighed and went back to his book.