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“Yes,” I say, not sure I’m following. “All athletes involved in varsity sports are required to attend.”

“He just made it pretty clear at the animal shelter that he was into you.” Right, the marking his territory thing. “I like you, Twyler, and I’d really like to spend more time with you, but I don’t want to have some six-foot-two hockey player on my ass.”

Six-foot-four.

“Oh no,” I say quickly. “That is not a thing. I promise. We’re just friends. Not even that.”

A small smile lifts his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say, trying my hardest to feel it in my bones. To will it to be true. Logan is great. He’s the right kind of guy for me. He’s my type, not off-limits, and definitely not a distraction. “What do you think? Free food? Limited drinks? Weird old guys reliving their glory days?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” he says, tilting his head in consideration, “…sure, I’m in.”

I grin, feeling a mix of pride for pulling it off and nerves, wondering if I’m doing the right thing. It’s one thing to try to move on, it’s a whole other to attempt to do it in front of the man you’re trying to get over.

* * *

The knock on the door comes just as I’ve pulled my dress over my head. My hair is done. Makeup, as Nadia calls it, on point. The lace-up back of my dress needs tying, but I leave it, rushing out of my room to open the door for Logan.

Except it’s not. Logan, that is.

Reese stands on my front porch, looking like a fucking GQ model, in a dark gray suit and tie that match his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, completely rattled. Have I lost my mind? Did our wires get crossed? No.Hell no. He never asked me to go with him and even if he did, I wouldn’t–couldn’t have–said yes.

While my brain is having a seizure, his gaze sweeps down my body, taking in the red formal dress I’m wearing. The knot in the back of his jaw pulses and he swallows, so slow, that for a second, I think he may choke.

“Reese,” I repeat, “what are you—” My eyes dart behind him. “Logan!”

Reese recovers and grins, turning to my date. “Hey, man, how are you?”

“I’m… good.” Reese offers his fist, and although Logan looks at it warily, he bumps it, as though it would violate some bro code not to. Questioningly, he looks to me.

“I don’t know what he’s doing here,” I say, quickly. “I promise.”

“Me?” Reese asks innocently. “Oh, I’m just picking up my date.” He peers over my head. “There she is.”

Behind me, Nadia strolls out of her room in a skin-tight, black dress. The front plunges into a deep V-neck, revealing more cleavage than I could ever muster. She rests one hand against the doorjamb, while easing her foot into a five-inch heel. “Hey, Reese. Hey, Logan.” She takes them in. “You guys look great.”

“So do you,” Reese says, giving her a wink.

Something in my brain breaks. “You’re here for Nadia.”

“Yep.” Something mischievous twinkles in his eye. “I asked her to be my date for the fundraiser.”

“You…” I take a deep breath. “Logan, can you excuse us for a minute?” I don’t wait for him to respond, grabbing Reese’s arm and dragging him inside. “Be right back.” I grin apologetically at my date before shutting the door in his face.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” I spin, hands on my hips, looking between them.

“I needed a date,” he shrugs, “and Nadia needed to prove to CJ and Brent that she’s okay. So, it seemed mutually beneficial.”

Ah, another deal. “Nad, is that true?”

She looks at Reese and then back at me. “Pretty much. The last thing I want is for those two to think they ruined me.” She grabs the bodice of her dress and lifts her tits up higher. “Fuck them.”

I look at Reese and he’s the picture of innocence. I’ve spent the week avoiding him–making sure that I was completely focused on practice and my work with the team. It’d been a challenge for sure, and more than once I’m pretty sure I caught him staring at me. But seeing him now, how he makes my chest close up–I know I made the right decision. I mean, I’ve barely even spoken to my date. Reese is too consuming.

“Whatever,” I say, turning to head back to my room. “Let me get my shoes.”