Page 31

Chapter 31

Evie

Damián takes Logan and me to the kitchen in his lovely home. It's cozier than Logan's, like a family has been living here for years. Plants sprout in every corner, even on a wall arrangement that makes for a stunning design feature. All the furniture fits a classic yet homey style and, with Barkley running around excitedly saying hello to everyone, it feels like I'm invited to family dinner.

It's a new experience, and my heart beats extra hard at the idea, but I don't show it.

I bend down and give Barkley the treat Logan gave me for the pet. "Hello, hello, you're so cute. So cute. Cuter than the pictures!"

"I'm glad you're finally meeting him," Nat says. "He's such a friendly pup."

"Isn't he more than a year old now?" Logan asks.

"He will always be a pup in our hearts." Damián grins and offers us drinks.

Dom is there already, as is Leon. Saint is the last one to arrive and he does a double take when he sees me .

"Evie! I read the chat and yet I didn't believe it." He gives me a kiss on the cheek. "If I had known that a badass frown would get you to say yes, I would have been grumpier with you all these years."

"I really don't think that's necessary," I say. "The fact he's pushy has nothing to do with the frown."

"You're telling me that I should have been pushy instead?!" He complains.

We all sit in the living room, sipping our drinks and eating finger foods, while the main course finishes cooking in the kitchen. Logan sits next to me, and I pretend I don't notice the way his arm rests behind me on the back of the couch.

There's something possessive about it, like a claim he's making that I don't know how to interpret. Or that I'm afraid to acknowledge, one or the other.

I pet Barkley's head, casually resting on my thigh. "I don't know why you guys complain so much about me keeping my distance before."

"Why wouldn't we?" Dom asks. "We're a friendly bunch, but selectively friendly. We took our time getting King to join us, both because he used to be so grouchy and because we were taking his measure but, you? We've been trying to get you in the inner circle for a few years."

" Used to be grouchy?" Logan complains.

"It's fine, King." Saint's dimples make an appearance. "We like you just as you are."

"Well, I'm here." I smile. "And happy to be."

"Good," Leon says. "Maybe next time you will accept our invitation, rather than letting Logan be the one to convince you."

"No one has the same kind of magical powers I do." Logan's joke is monotone, but we all laugh anyway.

The same easy conversation fills the room throughout dinner. They joke and dare Logan to dance for every touchdown they get until they're done the season… and in the postseason, if they manage. When they learn I won't be at the Christmas game, they are vocal in their displeasure.

"You have to come," Leon says .

"Pen is attending this time, too." Nat adds.

"We'll even make Logan make a heart with his hands like this—" Saint demonstrates—" and we'll make him point it at the box, to confuse the fans even more."

"I'm not dancing, and I'm not doing the heart," Logan says.

"We'll find a way," Leon threatens, and we laugh.

If it's part of a bet, I'd love to see it.

"You have to come, Evie," Dom argues. "It won't be as significant when we bend the King's will and he makes a heart toward the box, if you're not there."

"He can make the heart regardless," I say.

" The King, huh?" Logan mutters. "The King will still win the crown, once I beat Damián's pinball score, and I get Evie wearing my jersey."

He gives me a complicit look to remind me we plan to collude on this, and it's too late to change my mind.

"Only if you dance, Logan," I say. "You have to dance."

"You say I have to dance," Logan argues, "and laugh when you can see me, and make hearts at you… what am I getting in return?"

"Me wearing your jersey."

"I want more." His voice is deep, and determination takes hold of the room in its wake.

If there are insects bigger than butterflies, then those are the ones invading my stomach at his words. Their wings tickle my insides, and my heart races in place.

Leon clears his throat. "The jersey is a big deal. Don't be greedy, Logan."

"I'll be greedy every day, forever," Logan says. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," I tease. "Maybe because of a sudden need to be humble?"

"I haven't been tackled that hard," Logan says, and we laugh.

By the time dinner is finished, I'm starting to believe that Logan might have been right, and it might be okay to let them all in.

Later in my bed that night, he pushes me to my stomach, pulls me up from my hips to get me on my knees, and enters me in one big thrust.

"Fuck," I mutter.

He slaps my ass. "Rock back and forth and ride me back."

"Too bossy," I grumble for the millionth time, but I do as he says.

His fingers dig into my soft flesh.

"You feel so good," he groans. "I'm not going to be done with you for a while yet."

I don't know if he means he's going to throw me around some more tonight, or if he means the time we're having sex for. Ruthlessly, I push it away from my mind. My body feels too good to ruin it with misgivings.

I brace myself with an arm on the wall at the head of my bed, and use the other to touch myself.

Logan drops his torso to my back. He holds that one hand away from me and speaks to my ear.

"No," he says. "This one is mine, too."

He adjusts his angle and lifts my torso up. He moves in and out slowly, the head of his cock rubbing the right spot inside. Tremors tease my lower belly, as he lifts both my arms and guides my hands to his nape.

He nibbles on my earlobe. "Hands in my hair. I'll be the one touching you."

I pull the silky strands between my fingers and he hisses.

"Make it worth it," I demand.

"You know I'll make you feel good." His hands travel down my body, stopping at varied intervals to grab and squeeze. "It's why you're letting me have you more than once."

I didn't realize he remembers this, even though I said it in passing. That I never sleep with someone more than once. It brings a nervous flutter to my stomach and I push it away, too.

His large hand curls around my mound and all unease disappears from my mind. Two fingers find my clit, and I gasp .

"Yeah, make those sounds," he says. "Show me how much you like the way I touch you."

"Then make me forget myself, and steal those sounds from— me— too."

My lungs hiccup and it breaks my demand.

He chuckles. "That's right. Like that. Fuck."

Heat continues to rise in my blood. He thrusts faster again, his fingers playing with me until I'm writhing against him.

"Come for me, Evie. I need to feel you tremble in my arms."

He holds me up with his thick, strong arms. I arch my lower back to have him reach deeper.

"Harder," I say.

"I'll give it to you harder." He pumps in and out and uses his fingers on my clit with an insistent rhythm. "But you have to give me one."

"More."

His arms grip me tight. I can't move. I can only take what he does to me.

"Yes," I whimper.

Muscles clench inside and I come.

"Evie. God. Tremble for me."

In the haze of my orgasm, I can only register the way he groans and the way his pace loses its rhythm.

We decouple slowly. Soon we're in my bed, my body soft, and he pulls me to him. Only one lamp is on.

"Come here," he says.

"What time do you have to be at TD tomorrow?"

"Curfew is at two. We travel in the evening."

We're both still naked, covered only by my sheets. He wraps an arm around me, and his finger traces lazy patterns on my shoulder. The warmth of his body is perfect, and I let myself melt into it.

I sigh. "Are you staying here tonight, or are you going home? You'll have to pick up your bag in the morning at the very least. "

"I was hoping to stay, if you don't mind."

"I don't."

The moment feels so good I let him pull me closer, until I have to entangle my legs with his. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Good," he says. "I know you're still feeling skittish."

"Skittish?"

"Yeah. You know I have you figured out."

I snort. "I thought I was Mystery Girl."

"You were, but not anymore." He kisses the crown of my head. "That's a good thing."

"Mmh." The syllable echoes Logan's typical sound. "I need to figure you out, then."

"I'm an open book."

"Suuure. So why did your coach never play you with the Hunters? You were the backup for years. You should have gotten a shot."

He sighs. He doesn't add much for a moment, but I don't push. I can hear the way thoughts run in his head and, in my mind's eye, his ever-present frown is a deep line.

Logan sighs again. "I have to start by telling you about my dad."

"I'm all ears."

"He's… not bad as a dad but also not great. Absent, more than anything. Too busy being one of the best."

His heart beats a bit faster under my cheek, and it's the only sign I get that this is a big reveal for him.

"We text sometimes," he continues, "nothing major. But when I went to the Hunters, he wrote to warn me, because Coach McLellan hates him. Apparently, the Coach was convinced my dad got him fired from an old team. He insisted my dad wasn't as good as people thought, and didn't deserve the accolades. At first, I thought I would enjoy playing for someone who didn't worship my dad, because then I might find my own success. But then, well… I realized his grudge extended to me. He wasn't willing to give me a chance."

"So he took it out on you? How unprofessional, and what a waste of your time— and your talent."

"McLellan wasn't open about it, so I couldn’t address it. He insisted I wasn't ready, that I needed extra practice, and the team couldn't risk the games by giving me a chance. He and the GM fought a lot about it, but without a chance to prove myself, I didn't have the power to demand anything."

"That sucks. What a waste for everyone."

"And the head coach— he also blocked the veteran starting quarterback from mentoring me properly." He takes a deep breath. "Don't tell Selena, but I was itching to leave. You may call it desperate. I would have accepted less money than we settled for."

I chuckle. "I bet McLellan regrets what he did, now that you're killing it with the Strike."

"Eh, he's probably saying it's because of his leadership and the decisions he made."

"Well, fuck him."

He chuckles. "Satisfied with my answer? I think it's my turn to ask something."

"A question for a question? Fine, then. Go ahead."

"Mine is very important. I’ve been wondering about it for years."

"You're just building suspense now?"

He paused, drawing out the seconds. "Did you keep the shirt you took that night years ago?"

I blink a few times, embarrassment tingling in my throat. "Uhm… why would I get rid of it?"

"That's a yes." He squeezes me tight. "Did you wear it when watching a game at home, so no one saw who you really cheered for?"

I laugh. "No. I wear it as a pajama shirt sometimes. It's big and cozy…"

"And it reminds you of me. Admit it. "

"When did you get so cocky? Damn, Logan. I thought your grumpiness was your only personality trait."

"I got cocky when you admitted I'm the only one you've slept with more than once."

"Except for that one boyfriend I had, but yes. Every other guy has only been a passing distraction. You are different."

"Mmmmh." The sound is full of pleasure this time. "Tell me more."

"This qualifies as a question, Logan. Ready to bargain? I'll ask more."

"Absolutely. Now tell me how I'm different. Don't spare any details."

I smile, because he's so openly seeking praise from me. It's easy to share it with him, because he's showing me how playful he can be, and I'm certain he doesn't show it to anyone else. The least I can do is offer him the truth.

"With you I'm taking a risk." I rub my lips. "With you I'm indulging because us being together feels really good. If I'm doing it once, why not do it more? We agreed on doing this until we're done."

I trace the gentle hills of his chest muscles with a finger. His hands are still on me, and his unmoving fingers rest like a blanket on my skin.

"I was wrong," I say. "When I first saw you at the college bar. I assumed you'd be uncaring. Detached. It's what I was looking for at the time and now, since I've gotten to know who you are under those severe frowns, I realize this is what I was really looking for."

I gulp. He takes a deep breath that I feel right beneath my face. His heart drums a steady beat I can hear loud and clear.

"This is what I needed," I add. "All of it. All that you've shown to me. So I'll make an exception… as long as we remain friends afterwards."

With slow, assertive movements, he shifts until we're both on our sides. In this position he can look me in the eye and, in this light, his eyes are dark blue.

"I'm not breaking my word, Evie. I will not take what we have away, once we're done with sex. "

My heart is the one beating fast now. "I hope you understand… it's hard to trust that, because if I do and then you break that promise… the pain of believing I had it but it was a lie— to discover I never had it but I now know how it feels— that's worse than not having believed in it at the start."

"You don't have to believe me right now," he says. "Keep your eyes on me. Collect the evidence. As long as you give me the time to prove it to you, I know I will convince you."

I search his eyes. His confidence settles in my chest like truth.

"I'll save my question for another night," I whisper. "Tonight, I'll just believe you."

"Good." He turns off the lamp. "I want my words to stay in your mind for the next few hours."

He puts an arm around me and gives me a sweet kiss.

"Maybe while you're asleep," he adds, "a door will open into the fortress in your mind. Maybe, tomorrow you'll wake up and you'll find you believe me at last."

He falls asleep after a while, but I stay up studying his handsome face in the moonlight.