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LOGAN

“ A re you sure living with two hockey players is the right decision?”

My dad narrowed his eyes as he scanned the living room of our four-bedroom house. Placing his hands on his hips, he exhaled and shook his head. His dark hair went everywhere. “If you lived at home, you’d have fresh cooked meals every night.”

I laughed. “Oh, if you thought I wasn’t visiting to steal some, you’re wrong.” I hoisted my final suitcase toward the stairs, and my dad immediately grabbed it from me. Despite not loving the fact I’d be living with two males, he had been as helpful and supportive as ever. “I can carry that.”

“No.”

That was all he said. I smiled, and a small pang formed in my chest. This was my first time moving outside my childhood home. My parents and I agreed that if I lived at home for both my freshmen and sophomore years of college, I could spend my final two years living with my best friend, Jordan. While we couldn't afford a place of our own, or to decorate according to our pinterest inspo board that was a decade in the making, we were still living together.

Our dream was coming true with a few minor changes. The two hockey guys who were also living with us. Preston Charming wasn’t a surprise. He joined our bestie group three years ago, and we became a best friend throuple. My dad was also a fan of Preston, and even invited him to family dinner from time to time.

It was the fourth roommate that had my dad unsure, Quentin Hawthorne. The hotshot hockey player had a Reputation (Taylor Swift Style) on and off the ice. My family was die-hard college hockey fans, so they knew all about his play. How he played rough and dirty, even getting injured because of his antics. He lived life off the ice that way too. The ultimate flirt. The bad boy. The untamable one.

I understood the allure.

Hell, he was a walking, talking, wet dream with the jawline of Greek god. His light green eyes and smirk were all over our campus. He was hot. End of story.

My dad didn’t like the fact he was moving in with us, but he also understood how having a fourth roommate would actually help me. Not only was splitting the cost four ways easier to afford, but my ex had been lingering and not getting the hint we were done, so having a pair of large hockey dudes at the house would be great.

Gage refused to accept that I didn’t want to be with him after he cheated. He’d show up outside of my house, call me, beg for a second chance, send gifts, and still told people we were together.

My football-playing ex was an asshole, but I was over him. Kinda. My heart still hurt, and I missed him more than I wanted to. I loved him and thought we’d had something until I caught him sleeping with someone else this past spring. My heart still raced thinking about walking in on him with my friend, but that chapter was closed now. Despite wishing things were different, that he’d never cheated, I knew I couldn’t give him another chance. He showed his true colors, and even though he swore it was once, I’d never trust him again. So here I was, a free woman with a jaded heart, but living my dream future with my best friend while continuing my studies in library science

My dad nudged the farthest door on the right open with his foot and set my bag down. The second story had four rooms, two on each side with each pair sharing a bathroom. My window faced the front, which I loved because our campus library was in view. My favorite spot on campus besides the used bookstore.

“There’s the last of your stuff.” My dad ran a hand over his face. “I’m gonna miss you, Lo-bomb.”

“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes at my horrendous childhood nickname. “Don’t make me get emotional. This is exciting!”

“It’s dusty in here, yeah?” He sniffed before staring at me with the wateriest, goofiest smile. “I’m proud of you. My baby girl is living on her own.”

“I have roommates, Dad.”

“That are men too.” He arched a brow before patting the empty dresser. “Please, come join us for dinner soon. Your mom and sister miss you already.”

It was just my parents and I for a long time until there was a little oopsie baby about five years ago. We all loved Carly Jean to death, and my chest tightened. I hated being away from my baby sister, even though I needed to grow and do whole independent adult thing on my own. “I’ll be back Sunday, okay? J and I will stop by.”

“Good, good.” He rocked on his heels and shoved his hands into his pockets. He wore a Central State shirt that had a hole in the neck. I bought it for him freshmen year, and he loved the silly gift. “If you need anything, we’re a ten-minute drive away, okay? You call any time, middle of the night, if you need something. Never drive drunk. Don’t forget to take out the trash.”

“I know.” Shit. I was getting emotional now. I ran toward him, and he pulled me into a bear hug. I had the best dad, mom, sister, family. I buried my face in his shirt and breathed in the smell of home. He held me tight before gently setting me back down.

“Don’t make eye contact with me. Let me leave with a little dignity before I sob in the car.”

I snorted, the sound clogged with snot and tears. “Bye, Dad.”

He grunted, and his footsteps thumped down the stairs. His car started a few minutes later, and he left.

I fell backwards onto my bed, smiling like a goober. My dream was coming true, finally. After a heartbreak that shattered my soul for months, the pieces were moving back into place. Not only was I living here, but I’d start a practicum at a high school a few blocks from the house. I could walk, which was great.

While my family was rich in love, we weren’t wealthy. My parents couldn’t afford another car for me, and tutoring only helped pay for rent, not a vehicle. We were so close to campus it didn’t matter anyway.

“Honey, I’m hooooooooooome. ”

I bolted upright. Jordan was home.

“Dan the Man!” I hollered, running down the stairs until I jumped on her in a massive tackle hug. She caught me and spun me around, her familiar laughter music to my ears. You ever meet those people who were just a part of your soul? That was Jordan.

Also known as Jordy. Dan the Man. Dannithon.

“Oh my god, we’re roommates. Should we throw a party? Paint a wall? Dance around naked?” Jordan said, laughing loudly as she fell onto the couch with me. I sat on top of her, squeezing her.

“Yes, to all the above!” I couldn’t stop smiling. I knew better, too, than to agree to Jordan’s ideas because she was a wild child. My daring other half. Where I was a rule-follower, she created her own rules that made sense to her. She brought color and life and fun to my black and white.

“Did I hear something about dancing naked?” A deeper, amused voice joined us. Preston stood at the front door, two suitcases near his legs as he grinned. “Living with girls is so much better than the hockey house. Damn.”

“Heard, chef.”

My stomach tensed at the addition to our group. Quentin Hawthorne stood behind Preston, his lips curved up on one side with his infamous dimples on display. The photos didn’t do him justice. He was gorgeous. Stunning. The sun reflected off his moss green eyes as he eyed me and Jordan with a growing smirk.

“Not only do you smell better, but you’re also much easier to look at.” He clapped Preston on the shoulder before passing by him with a duffel bag. He set it near the stairs and approached Jordan and me.

I still sat on top of her. I’d been in the same vicinity as Quentin before, at a party or two, but not this close. Not with him staring at me. “Uh, hi,” I mumbled like a total dork.

Jordan pinched my side, making me yelp. “Get off me, Log.”

“Log?” Quentin’s lips twitched. “Do you go by Log or Logan?”

“Log—”

“Logan,” I replied, cutting off Jordan. “Don’t listen to Dan the Man here. No one calls me Log except her. Only her.”

“It’s true. I’ve done some pretty aggressive blood oaths with them, and I still don’t get to use it on her.” Preston sighed.

“Oi, don’t mention the oaths, dipshit.” Jordan rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this, Preston. You’ll be kicked out of the circle of trust if you act up.”

Preston held up his hands and met my gaze, clearly amused. “Logan would never do that. She has a soft spot for me.”

Jordan pushed me off her, her eyes sharp. “You’d never pick Preston over me. We made an unbreakable vow about it.”

“Alright, should I be concerned?” Quentin ran a hand over his jaw, moving his attention from Jordan to Preston to me. “Blood oaths and unbreakable vows. What kind of house am I moving into?”

“An entertaining one.” Jordan winked at him. “One of my buddies dropped off a case of beer, so I think we should settle in and have a drink on our porch in an hour. We can go over the rules.”

“ You have rules?” I arched a brow. My wild, fearless, ask-for-forgiveness-not-permission friend wanted to go over rules? “What in tarnation’s nation?”

Quentin’s head tilted at my inside joke, which I found super endearing. I ignored him. Looking at him was like looking at the sun, and I wasn't wearing sunglasses.

“We’re roommate virgins, Log. I might be a little wild outside my home, but I need some ground rules. Like, how do we feel about nudity?”

I choked on my own spit, earning a wink from my best friend. She was up to something, and I had no idea what, but I knew the cues to play along. “Pro.”

“Okay, cool. Log is pro nudity. Preston, Hawthorne?”

Preston rolled his eyes. “Don’t fall for her games, Q. She’s being ridiculous, as usual.”

“Mm, I think I’d like to unpack the nudity question. Is it in general, in our home? What do you mean?”

“How do you feel about waltzing around nude here?”

Quentin shrugged. “Everyone should be comfortable in their own home. I might walk around without a shirt, but if either of you are uncomfortable, I won’t do it.”

Huh. That was a thoughtful and unexpected answer. Jordan’s brown eyes narrowed for a beat, meeting mine, then she shrugged. “I’m totally okay with it, as long as I can walk around how I please.”

Preston groaned. “Jordan, behave. I’m putting my shit away, happy to meet later though to talk things out. Real things. Not Jordan things.”

“My things are real!” She walked up to him. “Can you help me carry my stuff up too, please, pretty Preston?”

“Sure, yeah. You gotta tell me which room is mine…”

Quentin studied our other two roommates, questions swirling in his eyes. Because he was considerate earlier, I figured I’d offer insight. “They fight like a married couple. They’ve always been this way, ever since they’ve been friends.”

He ran a hand over his jaw, nodding. “The three of you are close, yeah?”

“I’ve known Jordan since I was five. Preston came into our lives a few years ago. So yeah. We’re close.”

“That’s cool. I like it. I won’t be home too much, but it’ll be nice to be around people who care about each other.”

I frowned. That was a cryptic comment. “What do you?—”

“I’m gonna unpack a little, but I’ll get to know you more later, Log.” He winked, and before I could reply, my phone rang.

Gage.

I hit ignore, hating the way my stomach cramped at seeing his name. It had been three months since we broke up, but he kept trying to win me back. It was exhausting and annoying. I didn’t have it in me to block him—we’d been together for two years. We had history, and if his mom got hurt or something, I’d want to hear about it.

Sure, that’s it. Not that you still have feelings for him.

I shook my head as my throat tightened. He texted.

Gage: Hey, I think today is the day you move in. Let me know if you need help.

I inhaled, my pulse racing as I squeezed my eyes shut. He remembered that but not the fact he had a girlfriend when he slept with someone else—my friend too. I didn’t get it. I truly didn’t.

“Hey, you alright?”

Quentin stood at the base of the stairs, one hand gripping his bag, the other on his hip. His head tilted to the side again as his brows furrowed.

My face burned from the attention, but I didn’t have it in me to explain. I just nodded. “Fine, totally fine.”

He clicked his tongue. “That was super believable, by the way. I have no concerns or worries at all.”

I snorted. His sarcasm was so welcome, so appealing. My sour mood instantly disappeared. “It’s nothing. Just an ex.”

“Ah, one of those.” He rocked on his heels, his expression softening. “If you ever need to make him jealous, let me know. I’m shit at the boyfriend thing, but I’m great at pretending.”

There was no good reason that my stomach dropped and my insides twisted into weird butterflies imagining about how he could help me with Gage. Just thinking about him touching me had me sweating, and I fought the urge to fan my face.

He stared at me expectantly, like he wanted an answer, so I huffed out a laugh. “Noted.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle, further causing the butterflies to go out of control. “This might be fun, Log. ”

A firework of excitement burst in my gut. It had been so long since I had felt something like that. I smiled. I might like my new roommate.