Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

She smiled wide and bright, then kissed me in full view of her library. “Good, because I really love you, Logan.”

I kissed her one last time, made plans to see her after the game, and then walked out to where Cannon waited. My heart felt heavier with each step I took toward the parking lot.

We climbed into Cannon’s Hummer, and he started the engine.

“I changed my mind,” he said quietly, at odds with the roar of his engine. “You can’t tell her. She’ll drop you on your ass just like you said she would. Whatever cut her up scarred her deep.”

“Yeah. I know.” That weight in my heart spread over my entire body as I let my head fall back against the headrest. “You fell on the sword for me.”

“Don’t get dramatic. I tested out a theory and I was wrong. The question is, what are you going to do now that you know the results?” He pulled out onto the street, taking us toward the rink.

How could the woman I love hate everything about what I was, yet still love me?

“I’m going to love her as hard and as long as she’ll let me. I’m going to make her so happy that when I tell her the truth before that damned auction, I have a chance of keeping her.”

Cannon rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and let out a long gush of air that was too deep to be considered a sigh. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

The heaviness stayed with me into game time.

I was off. We all were.

We fell three to four, and even when we skated off the ice, the taste of defeat bitter on my tongue, I still wished she’d been there to see it.

The truth was that it wasn’t enough for her to merely accept that I played hockey. I wanted her to be as proud of me as I was of her. I wanted her cheering in the stands just like I cheered her on as she worked to repair the devastated wing.

I wanted her to love every side of me, and that wasn’t possible when I couldn’t—wouldn’t share myself with her. But I would. Maybe she’d backed away from Cannon, but she didn’t love Cannon.

She loved me, and I refused to believe her love was so fickle that we couldn’t survive the truth. I had three weeks to change her mind, and I was going to use every single second of it to my advantage.

16

Delaney

“What are we celebrating?” I asked as Logan led me into his kitchen. It was well past midnight, and he’d insisted I come over right away.

Logan poured two glasses of champagne, sliding one toward me on the marble kitchen island. “The Reapers are still in the playoffs by one game.”

“That’s good for your job, right?” I asked, holding my flute toward his.

He smiled, straight beaming. It was infectious.

“Yes,” he said, nodding before clinking his glass against mine. “It’s very good for my job.”

“Yay!” I took a celebratory drink when he did. “So happy for you, babe!” I shifted in my seat, my heart warring internally. “I’m happy for Cannon, too.”

“You are?”

I bit my lip, nodding. “Yes,” I said, sighing. “I wish he would’ve told me, and I can’t say that I won’t be wary around him from now on. That I won’t be watching for some outburst or abuse of power, but I’ve tried picturing it, and I don’t see him doing that. But it’s still hard to reconcile the Cannon I know with the hockey star he admitted to being.”

“Not everyone is your ex.” Logan’s voice was so low I almost didn’t hear him.

But he’d said those words to me before, and something cold tugged at the bottom of my stomach. “I know,” I said.

And tonight I’d planned to bury that piece of my past anyway.

Logan set his drink down. “Anyway,” he said. “I’m really excited for the Reapers, and there was no one else I wanted to celebrate with.”

I covered my chest with my free hand, totally blown away by the man. I set my drink down, moving to the space between his legs where he perched on the barstool. “In that case,” I said, playfully nipping at his bottom lip. “We should really celebrate.”

Desire flashed behind his eyes as he slipped his hands around my waist. “What do you have in mind?”

Anticipation flooded my veins. I’d come prepared. I was done waiting, and words wouldn’t do it justice. Quinn had asked me, pressed me on when I would fully trust Logan, and the past few weeks had all been building to this moment. To the moment I showed him I was with him, one-hundred percent. If he’d have me.

“I have some ideas,” I said, my fingers trembling as I tugged him off the seat. I grabbed my purse on the way, hauling him to his room.