Page 2 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)
MILLIE
T wo shots of tequila and half a beer chaser later, I’m sitting next to Logan Cullen, star right wing for the New York Thunder, in the VIP of Salt, downtown Detroit’s hottest nightclub.
So far, all I know about Logan is that he’s originally from New Jersey, and his dad played professional hockey, but he was injured and forced into early retirement.
Other than that, Logan’s quiet. Nothing like Dallas, that’s for sure.
And he keeps looking at me from the corner of his eyes.
He’s trying to be stealth about it, but he’s so not stealth.
Not even a little bit. But, to be fair, neither am I.
In my defense, the man is ridiculously attractive.
Tall and lean, with well-defined muscles that cause the white button-down he’s wearing to tug in all the right places.
Chestnut hair, a little longer on top with a slight wave to it.
Eyes that refract a kaleidoscope of colors whenever the flashing disco lights hit them at just the right angle.
A chiseled jaw peppered with stubble. And possibly the most enviable lips I’ve ever seen on a man.
In fact, attractive doesn’t even begin to cut it; the man is straight-up yummy.
Like it’s-taking-all-I-have-not-to-lean-over-and-lick-him yummy .
“So, what do you do for a living, Millie?” Logan asks when he realizes I’ve just caught him looking at me. Again.
“I’m in college.”
Choking on the mouthful of Jack and Coke he just sipped, he holds a fist to his mouth to cover a cough. “C-college?” He gapes at me.
“Yeah, a senior ,” I emphasize.
Clearing his throat, he shifts on the couch next to me. “What’s your major?”
“Business.”
“What are your plans after graduation?”
“I’m graduating early, in December, and I have an analyst role lined up at a petroleum company I interned at in Fort Worth last summer.”
He offers a small smile. “You don’t sound too jazzed about it.”
I sigh. “I applied for an internship at Hyde and Mercer. They’re a top hedge fund on Wall Street. But… I never heard back.”
“You wanna conquer Wall Street, huh?”
“Not really,” I say with a sheepish smile. “New York City’s always been my dream. My brother was just lucky enough to make it out there first.”
“Why not just move out there anyway?” He shrugs. “I’m sure Dallas would love to have you there.”
“Because New York is one of the most unaffordable cities in the country, and I’m a broke college student. If I do make it out there, I want it to be on my own merit,” I say defiantly. “Not just because my brother is there to take care of me.”
Again, I feel Logan’s eyes on me, but I choose not to look at him, instead staring down at my nearly empty bottle of Bud Light and picking at the label. I hate talking about myself.
“Fuck’s sake…” Logan mutters after a few minutes.
I turn to see him glaring down at his cell phone. “Bad news? ”
He flashes me a look that piques not only my interest, but my concern too.
“What is it?”
Rolling his eyes, he turns his phone to me and I lean in, squinting a little to read the tiny text displayed on the screen.
Tex: I’m going home with Charlotte. She’s so fucking hot, man. Thanks.
Tex: Can you make sure my sister gets into a cab and pay the driver? I’ll fix you up for the cash tomorrow.
Tex: And don’t fucking touch her.
Honestly, it takes all I have not to scream.
Not only has my brother ditched me for a pair of walking tits, but then he has the straight up audacity to warn his teammate not to touch me? Look up double standard in Webster’s dictionary, and I swear to God, you’ll see a photo of Dallas’s big fat face grinning back at you like a smug asshole.
“Come on, Red,” Logan says, hopping up. “Let’s go find you a cab.”
I frown at him, at the obnoxious and totally unoriginal nickname he’s bestowed upon me and, with a huff, I grab my purse from the small table littered with empty bottles and glasses and follow him out.
Outside, the night air whips against my tequila heated cheeks as I follow Logan down the sidewalk to the taxi line that is, unsurprisingly, long as hell. Great . I throw my head back on a groan.
“You can just go,” I tell him as I join the end of the queue.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit your teammate’s little sister ,” I say with serious derision because I’m still so pissed at my brother.
He invites me to dinner and then ditches me for a puck bunny? Typical Dallas Shaw behavior.
Logan moves next to me, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers and, with a wry smile, he rocks on his feet. “Trust me, standing here with you beats going back to the hotel to share a room with a snoring, farting behemoth who sleeps naked and has the world’s hairiest ass.”
I grimace at the image playing in my head. “I forgot how gross hockey players are.”
“Hey!” He nudges me playfully with his shoulder, flashing me the kind of grin that I’m sure has the power to make panties fall to the floor. “We’re not all gross.”
I feel my cheeks flush, and I force myself to look away quickly, which is when my phone starts vibrating from my purse. Pulling it out, I see my roommate’s name on the screen, and I don’t know why, but dread curls around my stomach because, somehow, I just know this can’t be good.
“Hey, B,” I answer.
“Ohmygod, where are you?”
“In the city,” I say, equal parts confused and cautious because she sounds panicked. “I met my brother for dinner. Why?”
“Parker is here.”
My heart sinks into the pit of my ass at the mention of my ex-boyfriend. “Parker is where ?”
“Literally downstairs. In our living room.” Bianca scoffs with disgust. “I just got home from work and the girls are throwing an afterparty, and he’s… here, reeking of sweat, draft beer, and pure audacity. I told him to get the hell out, but he said he’s not leaving until he sees you.”
“Oh, my God…” Anxiety coils in my chest, gripping my heart to the point of pain.
Logan touches my arm, startling me. I look up at him to see his face veiled with obvious concern, brows drawn together. “What’s wrong?”
I pull my phone away. “My roommates are throwing some sort of party, and my asshole ex-boyfriend is there.” I go back to Bianca. “Is he drunk, B?”
“His face is all splotchy and his right eye is doing that droopy thing, and they’ve been at the Sigma Pi party since noon, so… all signs point to white-boy wasted.”
I close my eyes on a heavy exhale because sober Parker is bad enough. Drunk Parker is something else entirely. I glance up at Logan, taken aback to see him holding his hand out. “Give me the phone.”
I look from my phone to him and back again, but after a few seconds hesitation, he takes it from me, and I watch on, rendered frozen.
“Hey, who’s this?” he asks bluntly, jaw working overtime as he listens to whatever B says on the other end of the line. “What’s the problem?”
Logan’s gaze darts to me, the crease between his eyebrows burrowing deeper. “Uh huh… yeah… yep… okay.”
I stare at him, my eyes bouncing between his to try get a read on what’s happening, but Logan is a blank canvas, and he’s not giving anything away.
“Sure,” he says. “Well, you can tell Parker she’ll be home soon. With her boyfriend .”
I blink at him, my brain racing. Did I just hear him right? Did he just say boyfriend?
Logan ends the call, handing the phone back to me without even a semblance of an explanation. But before I can ask what the hell just happened, we make it to the front of the line right as a cab pulls up to the curb.
Logan opens the door for me and, as if I’m on auto-pilot, I hop in and give the driver my address. When I feel a body slide in after me, I can’t help but gawk at him sitting right there.
“W-what are you doing?” I finally find my voice.
“Coming home with you,” he says casually while clicking his seatbelt .
I stare at him, blinking hard and shaking my head. “I’m sorry… what ?”
He meets my eyes, rearing back like he’s the confused one, and I swear, I almost laugh. Almost. “Logan, my ex is there. He’s drunk. Possibly even high ,” I exclaim. “Showing up with you is only going to cause… trouble.”
As the cab pulls out into the steady flow of traffic, Logan unfastens the buttons at his cuffs before carefully rolling each of his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, the corner of his lips curling up with a menacing smirk as he says, “Good thing I know how to fight then, huh?”