Page 11
Story: Just Say Yes (Kings #5)
ELEVEN
LOGAN
I watched MJ as she fled the dance floor.
I should’ve been relieved to find out MJ had dated Trent—it explained the weird tension between us. But the look on her face, the pain in her eyes ... it was like a gut punch.
What had Trent done to her?
The question rattled in my chest as I stepped to the back of the bar and pulled out my phone to call him.
It wasn’t just the fact that she had dated my friend. It was the pain that she tried to hide. He’d done something, and that settled like lead in my stomach.
The phone rang and rang, and I cursed under my breath when it went to Trent’s voicemail. “Call me. Now. It’s important.”
I hung up and slipped the phone back into my pocket and dragged a hand through my hair. “Fuck,” I exhaled.
Across the bar, the women MJ had been with looked concerned and confused. I rushed out of the Grudge and into the crisp night air after MJ.
She wasn’t on either side of the sidewalk. “Damn it.”
I opened my phone to call her, and it immediately went to voicemail. I tried to text her.
We should talk about this.
“What did you say to my sister?” MJ’s sister had her hands planted on her hips and looked ready to fight.
The redhead with her cut in, holding her hand out. “Hi, I’m Annie. I think you’ve met Sylvie.” I shook it, and she grabbed a phone from her purse. “I can call her.”
Sylvie crossed her arms, waiting for me to answer her question. I blew out a breath. “I’m not sure.” My attention fell to Annie, who shook her head. “She didn’t answer my call either.”
Sylvie raised a finger and pointed in my direction. “If you did something ...”
I liked knowing MJ had someone in her corner, even if her anger was directed at me for the moment.
I raised my hands as Annie exhaled. “If you’re just here to make her cry again, turn around and walk away now. We’ve seen enough of that.”
I hated the idea of someone making MJ cry. I stared down the sidewalk, willing her to come back.
“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, maybe you should leave her alone,” Sylvie said.
I nodded, knowing she was right.
This was exactly the type of drama and distraction I did not need in my life, but I couldn’t stop from worrying about her anyway.
* * *
MJ’s abrupt exit from the Grudge had left a curious knot in my chest, and I hadn’t heard from her since. I had tried a few more times to text her, but they all went unanswered. So, a few days later, I found myself heading to Haven Pines early. Seeing Grandpa was the excuse, but MJ was on my mind more than I cared to admit.
As I walked down the main hallway, I caught sight of her up ahead, speaking softly to one of the residents with gentle patience. Her face lit up in a soft smile as she adjusted the blankets on an elderly woman’s wheelchair, her hands moving with care.
For a moment, I just watched, trying to reconcile the woman in front of me with the one who had fled from the bar, wounded by ghosts of the past.
How the hell could someone like Trent leave this woman hurting after all that time?
When she turned and spotted me, her eyes widened in surprise. A flash of pink colored her cheeks, and I knew she was thinking about the other night.
“Hey,” she said, her voice a bit unsure. “Didn’t expect to see you here so early.”
I offered her a small smile. “Came to check on Arthur ... and you.”
She glanced away, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, about the other night ... I’m sorry, I?—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted gently, moving a step closer. “Your sister is kind of scary,” I joked. “But, really, I just want to make sure you’re all right. That’s all.”
“I’m great.” She took a breath, hesitating, her eyes drilling into me. “It’s just ... I knew you and Trent were friends, and things did not end well between us.” She gestured between our bodies. “Whatever I thought this might be ... is probably a mistake.”
I nodded, settling back on my heels. “I totally understand.”
Didn’t I?
The truth gnawed at me. I didn’t like thinking about MJ being with anyone else, let alone my best friend. Trent still hadn’t called me back, and the more time went on, the longer it was festering in the back of my mind.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she looked up, meeting my gaze. “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate that.”
For a moment we stood there in uncomfortable silence, the busy hum of the nursing home a quiet backdrop. The hint of vulnerability in her eyes was raw, real, and it tugged at something deep and protective inside me. Best friend or not, I fought against the urge to kick his teeth in for putting that jaded look in her eyes.
After a beat, I cleared my throat, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, I’m still testing out nicknames for you,” I said with a playful grin.
I was good at this—keeping things light and easy.
“Oh no,” she groaned, rolling her eyes as we walked side by side toward my grandfather’s room. “Do I even want to know?”
“Well, I’m open to suggestions, but I’m curious now,” I said, tucking my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “You never did tell me what MJ stands for.”
She hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s, uh ... Julep. My real name is Julep.”
“Julep?” I repeated, testing the sound of it, letting it settle.
The name felt ... right, fitting her in a way I couldn’t fully explain. “That’s a great name. Why doesn’t anyone call you that?”
Her shoulder lifted. “My brothers thought it was funny to call me ‘Mint Julep’ growing up, and it just stuck. Most people around here don’t even know my real name.”
“Do you like it?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.
“My name?” She laughed with a shrug. “Does it matter?”
My shoulders lifted to mirror hers. “It does to me.”
MJ stared at me before smiling. “I do like it.”
I smiled, a decision forming quietly in my mind. “Well, Julep,” I said, letting the name linger with a sense of something just between us, “from now on, I think that’s what I’ll call you.”
She blinked, surprised, her gaze flicking up to meet mine. “You don’t have to ... I mean...”
“It suits you,” I replied softly, noting the faint hint of color in her cheeks. “Pure. No mixer.”
She blushed again, and I found that I liked that shade of pink in her cheeks.
Though I didn’t say it out loud, there was something about calling her by her real name that felt like a small honor, a privilege.
Her lips curved into a slight smile, a glimpse of the warmth she seemed to radiate from every pore.
The air between us settled into something easy, comfortable. I could still see the uncertainty lingering in her eyes, but there was also something else—a flicker of hope, maybe.
I wanted to nurture that, to see it grow.
Before I could stop myself, I cleared my throat. “I know this might sound like a terrible idea after the other night, but ... would you still want to come to my next game? As friends. I promise the match will be a good one.” I gave her a teasing smile, hoping to coax out that laughter I was coming to crave.
She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered my offer. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea ...”
“Come on,” I coaxed, leaning in slightly. “We won two games. The team needs our lucky charm in the stands. They’ve been on a roll ever since you showed up. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”
She rolled her eyes, but I could see the hint of amusement there, the way her lips curved just slightly. “You’re relentless.”
“Only when I’m right,” I replied, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.
She sighed, looking like she was trying to convince herself more than me. “Fine. But only because I really like Maria. No expectations ... as friends .” She lifted a finger. “And no more sleepovers.”
“Of course,” I agreed, holding out my hand for her to shake. “No expectations.”
If she noticed that I’d subtly left off the no sleepovers clause, she didn’t let on.
MJ laughed, her shoulders relaxing, and the sound filled me with a strange sense of accomplishment.
If she wanted to be friends, I could do that. I was a fantastic fucking friend.
* * *
Thankfully, the next game was in Central Michigan, so MJ only had a forty-five-minute drive before she arrived.
Before the game started, I couldn’t help but search the stands until I spotted her, tucked in the middle of the front row. Maria had taken her under her wing, and for that I was grateful. Maria’s arms swung wide as she chatted with MJ, pointing to parts of the field or other players and laughing.
Just knowing she was there sent a jolt of energy through me, my focus sharper, my movements faster. Maybe Jack was right after all—something about having MJ at the game affected the energy on the field.
MJ really was becoming something of a lucky charm, and I wasn’t about to question it. If having her in the stands gave me an edge, I’d fucking take it.
As the game started, MJ didn’t seem to notice me looking at first. Her focus was on the field, eyes moving with the action, her hand coming up to her mouth in moments of tension.
I found myself sneaking glances at her whenever I could, drawn to her expressions, the way her lips curved when our team scored, or how her brows furrowed in concentration as she followed the game or leaned in to ask Maria something.
As the game went on, tension was high. I took a hit that sent a shock wave of pain down my left leg. I staggered, pulling myself back up, and as I steadied, my gaze drifted toward the sidelines. There she was, her eyes wide with worry, her hand almost reaching out as if she wanted to pull me from the field.
Our eyes met, and in that moment her concern felt like a balm to the ache radiating from my knee. She gave me a quick, reassuring nod.
Somehow that small gesture grounded me, eased the pain, and gave me the push to keep going.
Fueled by her presence, I threw myself into the game with renewed determination. Every pass, every move, felt sharper, more purposeful, and by the time we scored the final points, sealing our victory, I knew that part of that win was hers.
After the match, I made my way over to her, ignoring the soreness pulsing in my leg. She was waiting by the sidelines, her arms crossed but her eyes filled with relief as she watched me approach.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with genuine worry.
“Just a bump,” I assured her, grinning. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
She didn’t look convinced, her brows pinching together as her gaze flicked to my knee. “Looked like more than just a bump from where I was sitting.”
Her concern stirred something inside me, and I found myself reaching out, resting a hand on the wall between us. “I’ve got my lucky charm here. What could go wrong?”
“You’re an idiot.” She rolled her eyes, but I caught the faintest trace of a smile as she glanced up at me. A faint mixture of guilt and satisfaction rolled over me. I was an idiot on the field sometimes—you couldn’t get the rewards without a little risk. Still, there was something about her genuine concern that lit a fire in my gut.
For a moment it was just the two of us, standing close, the sounds of the crowd fading into the background.
“Thanks, Julep,” I said, letting her real name slip off my tongue, savoring the sound of it. “For coming today. I know you didn’t have to.”
She looked down, her cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah, well ... I like Maria. Plus, it’s for the team, right?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin. Though, really, I wasn’t sharing her with anyone. If MJ was anyone’s lucky charm, she was mine .
As I walked toward the locker room, I rubbed the little achy spot that bloomed in the center of my chest.
Goddamn.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
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- Page 5
- Page 6
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- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11 (Reading here)
- Page 12
- Page 13
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- Page 16
- Page 17
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- Page 37