Page 27 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)
MILLIE
I n the time it took to drive through rush hour traffic in the city, across the bridge and into Brooklyn, Logan doesn’t say more than a few words. His jaw is set tight, fingers gripping the steering wheel like it’s his lifeline, and the tension in the car is heavy.
“Are you okay?” I ask as we navigate the cobbled streets of Dumbo, looking for a parking spot near Dallas and Emily’s apartment.
Startling, like he’s only just realized I’m still here with him, Logan looks across at me, his face softening when his eyes meet mine. “Oh, shit. Yeah. Sorry, I—” He exhales a rushed breath. “I don’t want to talk about last night.”
My brows draw together. “Hey. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it, remember? Not until you’re ready.”
He meets my eyes again, a lopsided smile tugging up the corner of his lips. “No, Red. I mean, with these guys.” He nods his head in the direction of the red brick warehouse we’re parked across from.
The engine cuts and silence ensues, and I watch Logan as he allows his head to fall back, resting against the seat, closing his eyes, the sharp jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick swallow.
“I didn’t talk much after the game because I was in a hurry to meet my dad.
And I know they’re gonna ask—” He trails off, shaking his head, and when he looks at me again, his smile seems a lot less genuine than it had moments ago. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
I narrow my eyes, studying him a moment.
And then, knowing this is risky, given my brother’s apartment is right across the street and for all I know he could be up there right now, watching us through a pair of night vision binoculars from one of the big arched windows, I reach across, placing my hand on Logan’s leg, gently squeezing his thick thigh through his jeans.
“Choose a safe word,” I say.
Logan’s eyes widen, and I see him swallow hard again.
When I realize what he’s thinking, I roll my eyes, playfully shoving him. “Head out of the gutter, Cullen.”
He chuckles.
“A safe word to use for when you need me to interject or even if you wanna leave. I can fake a headache like nobody’s business.”
“And diarrhea, apparently,” he quips.
I waggle my eyebrows.
“Nutella,” Logan finally says, a grin playing on his lips.
Logan and I don’t say a word as we ride the freight elevator up to the top floor of Dallas’s building. We stand next to one another, a respectable amount of space between us, both of us just staring at the cage as we climb higher.
I can almost feel the tension radiating off him, and it’s taking all I have not to reach out and touch his hand in a show of support. But I don’t. Instead, I fold my arms across my chest and chew on my bottom lip.
When we make it to the top, I step off first, leading the way down the hall to Dallas’s door, grimacing at the sound of voices and music coming from the other side.
Since I’m family, I don’t knock, instead pushing open the heavy door and letting myself inside, holding the door open for Logan to carry the pizza box over the threshold.
“Oh, my God!!!” Emily cries, spotting me first and running across the wide-open space, tackling me in a giant hug. “I missed you.”
“Is that Papa G’s?”
I turn as Happy sprints from the couch to Logan, practically ripping the pizza box from his hands and opening it to sniff the contents.
Removing his jacket, Logan glances briefly at me before following Happy to where the guys are in the living area, set up in front of the big screen.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!
” Emily says, wrapping her arm around me and guiding me inside, walking toward the long oak dining table where Hannah and Fran are sitting with glasses of wine almost as big as their heads.
I momentarily panic when I remember that I never responded to Hannah after my random DM to her this morning.
Please don’t say anything. Please don’t say anything.
“Yeah, I’ve been so busy with work,” I explain, removing my jean jacket and tossing it over the bench seat before sitting down.
“Hey, Millie.” Hannah smiles at me.
“Hey,” I say with a tentative smile.
“Has it gotten any better?” Fran asks. “At work.”
My molars grind together. “Next question.”
Emily’s shoulders fall. “Oh, no.”
“Is it still that bitch, Caroline?” Fran asks, narrowing her eyes. “Because I will come down there and slap a ho if I have to.”
“She’s just so…” I trail off, shaking my head dismissively. “You know what? I don’t even wanna talk about it right now.”
“Let me get you a beer,” Emily says, rushing to the huge glass door refrigerator and pulling out a Pabst .
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my long-lost little sister.”
I look up to see Dallas approaching, grinning at me as he leans down and grabs me in a playful headlock, ruffling my hair. I shove him away, smoothing a hand over my hair and smiling up at him as he presses a kiss to my forehead.
“How’s work?” he asks, grabbing a handful of chips from the big bowl in the center of the table and popping them into his mouth.
I open my mouth to say something right as Emily and Fran chorus, “She doesn’t want to talk about it.”
Dallas backs away, hands held up in the air. Emily passes him, and he presses a swift kiss to her lips before turning and swaggering back to his friends.
When it’s just Fran and me, she nudges me in my ribs, and I look at her to find her eyebrows jumping up and down, a knowing smile on her lips. My brows knit together as dread surges through me. Oh, God. What now?
“You and Logan look pretty cozy showing up together,” she whispers, nudging me again.
“Quit nudging me,” I hiss, nudging her straight back. “Your elbow is really fucking bony.”
She giggles. “Ohh, deflecting.”
“Oh, my God.” I roll my eyes, glancing at Hannah to find her looking up at me from her phone. “We showed up together because I live at his apartment and Dallas told him to bring me.”
Fran retorts with a teasing sound that makes me wonder if she’s really a teenager trapped in the body of a twenty-something, but I ignore her, accepting the beer Emily hands me when she returns to the table.
As Emily and Fran start talking about something to do with their work, I allow my gaze to trail over the expanse of the apartment, conveniently landing on the group of guys in the living room.
Happy and Robbie are sitting on the floor, game controllers in hand, and Logan sits on his own on one end of the sectional, while Dallas lounges on the other side .
Logan’s gaze flits over to me, almost as if he could feel my stare, and he flashes me the hint of a smile before turning back to the television.
I look back to the table, finding Hannah’s big, blue eyes on me, and I quickly avert my focus down to my beer, lifting it to my lips and taking a few big gulps.
“Food’s here!” Fran yells, looking at her cell phone.
None of the guys move.
Fran sighs, pushing up from the table. “Okay, so I guess I’ll go down and get it.”
In desperate need of a moment’s reprieve, I stand. “No, it’s okay. You stay. I’ll go down and get it.” I grab my jacket and push up from my chair before she can argue.
“I’ll help!” Hannah stands, smiling sweetly at me.
With a long, leveled look at her, my jaw clenches.
“Yeah, good idea,” Emily says. “There’s probably a few bags.”
Great . I spin on my heel and walk to the door with Hannah following closely behind me. I glance to the living room, finding Logan’s curious gaze watching us, and when I catch the hint of a smirk ghost his lips, it takes all I have not to flip him off.
The elevator ride sucks. I should have made a run for it and taken the stairs.
As I stare straight ahead, I can feel Hannah’s gaze fixed on me, but I ignore her as best as I can, tapping my foot impatiently.
When the elevator stops at ground, I make quick work of unlatching the cage and exiting before she can try to make small talk.
I know I’m being immature, but I’m in panic mode. And frankly, I don’t even know why.
We meet the delivery driver outside and take the bags from him, tipping him generously, but just as I have my hand on the door to walk back inside, I’m stopped.
“Millie, can we talk? ”
I huff an exasperated breath, as if I’ve never been more put out in my life. Rolling my eyes, I turn to face her. “Sure.”
Hannah licks her lips, seemingly considering her words. “It really wasn’t… what it looked like,” she says. “That morning… when you?—”
I hold a hand up, silencing her. “Trust me. It’s burned into my retinas. We really don’t need to rehash the details.”
She snaps her mouth shut, looking down at the ground a moment, and when I see her shoulders fall a touch, I feel a nagging tinge of guilt tug low in my belly. I roll my eyes at myself, relenting. “Look, let’s just?—”
“I’ve been having an affair with a married man.”
My mouth hangs open at her rushed confession that’s left lingering in the air between us, and all I keep thinking is how I knew she couldn’t be as perfect as she made her life out to be on social media. Man, since when did I become such a vindictive bitch?
“I didn’t know he was married,” Hannah adds quickly, eyes wide and full of innocence, face fraught with sincerity, and I snap my big fat mouth shut.
“He told me he and his wife were separated. He told me it was… complicated . He told me everything he knew I wanted to hear. Everything he could tell me so it wouldn’t seem weird that he wanted to keep our relationship on the downlow.
” She breathes hard and fast, and I’m worried she’s about to spiral over the edge.
I take a step closer, touching her arm and forcing her to look at me. “Hey, it’s okay. Breathe.”
She does as I say, taking a few deep breaths in through her nose, and I rub my hand up and down her arm, soothingly.