Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

A cold fear settled in my stomach—the unknown nagging enough to re-open that small trust issue, making more room for doubt that snaked like ice in my blood.

15

Logan

The first round of playoffs started tonight, but my nerves weren’t focused on Boston as I walked into the library, flanked by Cannon.

They were focused on the little redhead I still couldn't come clean to.

“You say, ‘Hey, I’m going to go play hockey tonight,’ or something else just that fucking obvious. Doesn’t seem too difficult to me.” Cannon shook his head as we passed by the office.

“Look, I didn’t hide from the conversation with my mom, and even invited her to a Reaper game last week.”

“You what?” Cannon paused, his eyebrows raising slightly.

I stopped walking and faced him. “I grabbed my balls and asked her if she wanted to come to a game.”

“Knowing she’d spot you?”

“I figured the Ward on the back of my jersey, and the giant pictures of our faces on the jumbotron would do the trick.” I shrugged.

“I can’t decide if that’s fucking brilliant or taking the easy way out. Honestly, I think you’re being stupid about this. She’s not going to leave your skinny ass.”

“That’s comforting,” I muttered and started off toward the central corridor.

Delaney stood with Persephone, looking over a notebook. Her hair was up in a knot, and her glasses were perched precariously as she glanced from the notebook toward where Sephie pointed.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” I came up behind Delaney and kissed her neck.

“Hey,” she said softly, turning and hugging me. I loved that about her. It was never enough just to be held. She hugged back. She gave herself in everything she did.

I loved more than that about her, to be honest. I loved her smile and her eyes, the curves of her body and the way she was made just for mine. I loved her mind to the point of obsession, the way she saw an optimistic light around every bad situation—even her own. I loved the way she found joy in simple things and the way she never hid what she was feeling.

Mostly, I was just...in love with her.

It wasn’t something that hit me like lightning—not even when she’d declared her own love weeks ago. It was a feeling that had grown like our friendship, strong and steady until I couldn’t deny it anymore.

The only thing I didn’t love about her was the way she branded every athlete with her ex’s shitty actions.

“What are you doing here?” Cannon’s jaw locked as he faced Persephone.

“Getting some details hammered out for the Bid For Your Book Boyfriend auction, which means I actually have a reason to be here. What are you doing?” she shot back as her chin rose a good inch in the air.

“It’s a library.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He lifted the giant hardback he’d been carrying so it slid into her line of sight. “I’m returning a book, as one does in the library.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You can drop it on the desk, Cannon. I’ll get it once we’re done here,” Delaney told him. “I put the one you have on hold under my computer.”

“Thanks, Delaney.” He walked by Sephie without another look.

“Anyway,” Sephie shook her head like she needed to clear it. “We’ll put the platform right along the corridor. The guys can walk it while the MC talks about their finer...attributes.”

“Like our minds?” I asked with a grin.

“Like your ass,” Delaney whispered with a wink.

I chuckled and held her tighter, her back to my front.

“We can line the chairs right along the path, leaving the books undisturbed, and then put another row up on the second level looking down if we have enough RSVPs.” Sephie smiled. “Trust me. We’re going to have more than enough.”

“What did you think of the heroes I sent over?” Delaney asked.

“Good! It’s easy to match them up with your help, and I’ll have a few more names and descriptions to send over to you.”

“Awesome!”

“Okay, I want to know who I got.” I tried to picture the evening ending well, considering Delaney would know my secret by then.

“Henry DeTamble from The Time Traveler’s Wife,” Delaney answered. “Because you’re handsome, magnetic, and always disappearing on me.”

“I’m good with that one. I haven’t read the book, but I’ve seen the movie.”

“Sacrilege!” Delaney gasped.

My smile was wide as I brushed a kiss against her temple.

“You got Heathcliff,” Delaney told Cannon as he returned with his book.

“No, I didn’t,” he countered, looking at his book.

“Ha! No, silly, I mean for the auction. Your book boyfriend name is Heathcliff!”

“I’m sorry?” his eyes narrowed.

“From Wuthering Heights?” Sephie Clarified. “I thought it was pretty perfect for you.”

Cannon’s gaze swung her way. “I’m more than familiar with Bronte.”

“Well, you’re all dark and broody,” Delaney offered. “I can just picture you up on the moors.”

He was still staring at Persephone. “Moors and brooding I can do, but if you think I’d ever stand by and watch the woman I love marry some other asshole because he has more money...more breeding, you’re out of your damned mind.”