Logan (Carolina Reapers 4)

“Come on, baby.” I wrapped my arm around her as the R8 pulled up.

“Baby, huh?” her ex, Jeff, slurred as he got to his feet. Over his shoulder, I saw two camera phones appear as my hand started to throb, reminding me I’d just used it in a way that was going to land me in Langley’s office.

Shit. This would be all over the internet if I didn’t keep my shit together.

“We have to go,” I told Delaney, ushering her toward the car.

“Mr. Ward,” the valet said as I tipped the kid a fifty.

“I knew it was you!” Jeff yelled. “Guess you moved up in the world, huh, Delaney? Fucking NHL stars now? Guess I wasn’t good enough for you once I didn’t get drafted.”

Delaney stiffened, and just like we were in her fantasy, everything felt like it shifted into slow motion, just without the beach.

“You weren’t good enough for me the minute you tied me to a damned drainpipe then took pictures after you made me bleed.” She shouted, jabbing her finger toward him. Then her face went scarily blank for a second before her eyes narrowed. “What did you just say about him?”

“Baby, we have to go. Please, get in the car,” I begged, but she stepped out of my grasp, taking a step closer to Jeff.

“About you sleeping your way into the NHL wives club?” Jeff grinned, thumbing away the blood from his split lip. “Always knew you had it in you.”

“But he’s not…” she glanced from me toward Jeff and back again. “He’s in sales.”

“Sure, if you count his endorsement deals.” Jeff and his two companions laughed, and ice rippled up my spine. Not this way. Not this way. Please, God.

“Delaney, please,” I whispered.

“For someone who’s surrounded by books all damn day, how the hell are you not smart enough to know who you’re fucking?” Jeff spat as he gestured toward me. “That’s Logan Ward.”

“I know that!” she shouted, but she yanked her hand away when I reached for it. “What is he talking about?”

I didn’t have time to refute him—even if I could have. Everything he said was the truth. But I knew I was fucked the minute his friend on the left pulled out his cell phone and turned it our direction.

It was my roster picture—jersey and everything.

“Logan Ward,” he recited. “South Carolina Reapers. Age twenty-five. Hometown, Chicago, Illinois. Drafted in the first round from the University of Denver. He’s currently sitting pretty at number one in the rankings for the NHL’s defensemen scoring leaders.”

My secret was out.

18

Delaney

The ground slipped beneath my feet, or at least that is what it felt like as one of Jeff’s douchebag friends held out his cellphone toward me, reciting evidence I couldn’t comprehend.

My stomach plummeted into an endless pit. Like the solid foundation beneath me dissolved into dust.

The center of my chest stung like someone had shoved a white-hot poker through it.

I took one step away from Logan, eyes wide, assessing.

“Tell me he’s lying.” The words were strained as I tried to hold back tears.

Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.

I pleaded with my eyes. Begged him to tell me that piece of shit made it up.

But somewhere, deep down, I knew the truth. Could feel it pulsing through me like oil.

How could I be so blind?

“Tell me, Logan.”

“Let me explain,” he said, reaching for me.

I backed away another step, choking back tears.

“Not you,” I said, two tears escaping my hold. “Not you. You wouldn’t lie to me about something so important. Not after…everything.” My heart fractured into a few more pieces. I’d given him every part of myself—the broken bits, the dark parts, all of it.

“Dinner,” I said, my eyes flashing to the restaurant behind him. “This is what you wanted to tell me?”

A small, broken nod.

“I joked about cereal and snoring,” I said, my voice cracking. “This…this is major.”

And he’d kept it from me.

Why?

Ice cold water trickled into my veins.

“Did you think I’d shut you out?” I asked, shaking my head. “Did you really believe I would’ve walked away from you if you’d been honest with me?”

Logan parted his lips but shut them.

I gaped at him, another option hitting me like a Mack truck.

“Or did you not care?” A stuttered breath left me. “Was everything a lie, then? Some cruel test to see how long the librarian could remain oblivious? Blinded by love for you?” I held my hands over my chest as if that would keep me from falling apart. Then I used one to flag down a cab because I realized whatever the answer was, I wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

“Answer me, Logan,” I snapped. “Was he telling the truth?”

I scanned the area to Logan’s left, a slight breath of relief at the sight of Jeff and his friends laughing as they fell into a cab. Another one pulled into the empty space as they drove off.