Page 6

6

QUENTIN

L ogan was nervous.

I wanted to ease her stress even if her quirks were so damn cute.

I pocketed my phone, my mom’s text unhelpful.

Mom: You’re a fucking idiot if you pass up the opportunity to meet with Ramon. He has connections you’ll never have.

I wanted to be a decent guy for Logan, helpful even. That meant ignoring my dear mother who put me in a shit mood. I’d text her later, maybe.

“So, is there a plan of attack? We hold hands in the kitchen and smack butts in the hall? Oh wow, that sounds like a weird version of the game Clue. Professor Plum, smacked ass, back hallway. Ha, could you imagine?”

Seriously. I couldn’t stop smiling when I was around Logan. “Have you never been to a party before?”

“Sure I have. Birthday parties and Fourth of July parties and slumber parties. Cinco de Mayo and St. Patrick’s Day parties too. See? So many.”

“Have you had social interactions with people at those parties?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Then channel that.” I laughed and gently grabbed her elbow to slow her down. She was walking like this was a tryout for the Olympics. Her breathing was even a little heavy from the pace. “Hold on for a minute.”

“Sure, okay. Yeah, you gonna explain the plan?” Her furrowed brows were adorable on her sweet face.

And yeah, Logan had a sweet face. Her full lips and red, full cheeks and her brown eyes. She looked innocent. With her braids and curls too…she was gorgeous. I wanted Jordan to explain what number her ex did on her, but Logan had stopped it.

I saw the ass at the store and how he was obsessed with his feelings, not hers, so I already hated the dude. But Logan was a little too nervous for my liking. I hoped for her to have fun and relax.

I trailed my fingers from her elbow to her wrist, loving how her smooth skin felt. She also smelled like peaches and flowers, and it was the best scent I’d ever smelled. That sounded weird, but truly. Divine. When my fingers reached her hand, I intertwined our fingers. Our palms pressed together, and the most intrusive thought blasted through me. When was the last time I’d held someone’s hand like this?

Never.

“Not bad, yeah?” I asked, my voice a little raspier than I intended. “This is the plan. We hold hands, I make sure you have a drink when you need one. Maybe we play a drinking game, maybe we dance. We’re friends now, right?”

She nodded.

“Then we hang out together, at a party, where people can see us.” I swallowed, my throat bobbing as she stared up at me with so much trust and hope.

It was absofuckinglutley wild that she thought I was a good guy. No one looked at me like that or viewed me as trustworthy. People wanted to use my clout as a hockey player, or they saw me as the punk shithead from freshmen year. I was the villain in so many stories I forgot that Logan didn’t see me that way.

With her, I could start over. The desire to keep her thinking of me as decent was a special type of desperation.

“I might push your hair behind your ear because your curls are cute as fuck.” I used my other hand to do just that. She gasped when my finger slid over her ear. It was a cute sound. “I won’t touch you without telling you first, okay? You can trust me.”

She nodded. “W-why are you doing this for me?”

The dinner exchanges with my mom. That was what sparked this whole idea, but the real reason, the true motivation, was Audrey. That was the right answer to share. “I have a sister, and she’d expect me to help out someone who needed an extra friend.”

She smiled, and I knew that was the right thing to say.

“Well, I’m glad I can return the favor with those dinners.”

“Being around you is pretty entertaining as-is, Logan.” I tugged on our hands to continue walking toward the hockey house.

“I can’t decide if that is a compliment or not.”

“It is.”

“Mm, okay. I’ll accept it. I’m entertaining then.”

“You used fingers guns at me. Then holstered them.”

She released a loud, guttural moan that caused some creature in a tree to shake the leaves. “Quentin, there are rules in the world. One of them is not bringing up the single-handed biggest regret of my life to me.”

I snorted. See? She was funny as hell. “If that’s your biggest regret, then you’ve had a good life, Logan.”

“Don’t bring it up again, faux boyfriend.”

“Noted.”

We walked in a few minutes of silence, our hands swinging between us as we approached one of the hockey houses. Jock Block was big here at Central State, where all the major sports teams lived in homes near each other. It was our own version of frat houses, only with athletes. We had our own code. We worked hard, played hard.

My chest ached, knowing I didn’t live here anymore. Guys moved out all the time for various reasons. I hadn’t expected money to be mine. The house with Preston and the girls was farther away from campus, the rink, and cheaper.

It saved me hundreds of dollars each month to move, and somehow, the bedroom was way bigger despite the price being less.

I didn’t have too much FOMO from the guys though. We practiced together and worked out. I saw them all the time.

Plus, the party scene twenty-four seven wasn’t good for me. Drinking made me feel like shit and not just physically. Every time I drank, I reminded myself of every mistake I ever made, and the self-loathing cycle started. Audrey assured me the hangxiety I tended to experience was real, and when you made as many mistakes as I had, you didn’t want to live in that headspace.

“Wow, I feel cool,” Logan giggled, moving closer to me.

Her perfume surrounded us as she leaned into me. “Quentin, I understand you’re a big deal or something being on the hockey team, but everyone is looking at me like I’m important. It’s ridiculous.”

“Hockey is huge here.”

“Is it always like this for you? People stare, and you’re not sure why?”

I nodded. “Sounds douchey, but you get used to it.”

“I bet. You’d have to. The number of girls who are eyeing me with envy is wild. I never really went out with Gage. I know he plays football but…” She trailed off, her voice quieting a way that I already knew.

She was unsure, upset about something.

“But what?” I urged.

“I guess I have no way of knowing if he cheated on me more than once.” Her smile fell, and I couldn’t stand that. Some people had faces for joy, and hers was one of them. Plus, the more I heard about Gage, the more I hated the guy.

“He didn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen him around at parties the last two years. He wasn’t with girls.” That wasn’t a lie either. I did see him around, and he wasn’t with other girls.

“Oh.” She sighed. “I hate that that’s a relief.”

“You’re still getting over him, so it makes sense.”

“It’s pathetic though. It’s been months, and I’m still here.”

I ran my free hand over my jaw, rubbing it as tension grew. She had no idea how much I related to that. “Nah, you loved him. That shit hurts.”

She nodded as we neared the house. The familiar thud of the music drifted through the humid air. Laughter carried around us, the telltale signs that the nightlife was thriving on campus. The first two weeks were always wild because classes weren’t hard yet, and after a summer away, everyone wanted to let loose. These guys were tamer than the other house though, the main reason I brought her here. I lived with the party animals last year, and I hated who I became.

“Can we have like a code word?” Logan whispered, freezing on the sidewalk. Her grip tightened on me, and her doe eyes went wider.

“A code word?”

“A safe one. Like, if I say chicken noodle soup, we leave.”

“Of all the words…” I laughed and got us moving again. “Sure. Yes. You yell Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup, and we get the hell out of there.”

“It’s important to have good communication. Look at us, communicating and everything.”

Again, this girl made me smile. My face ached from all the laughter. I truly wasn’t used to it.

“Hawthorne, what up, man?”

Kyle, one of the senior defenders on the team, came up to me, going in for a handshake and hug. That meant letting go of Logan. “Hey, dude,” I replied, patting him on the back. “What’s going on?”

“Glad you made it out tonight.” He’d clearly had a few drinks already. His eyes were red and glazed, but that didn’t stop him from moving his attention to Logan. “Oh, who’s this?”

“This is Logan,” I said, putting my arm around her. She fit perfectly underneath the crook of my right arm as her body molded into mine.

“Hello, Logan,” Kyle said, puffing out his chest. “Are you new this year? I haven’t seen you around.”

“I lived off campus the last two years, so you’re sorta right.”

“I love hearing that. Sorta right is sexy. Do you mind saying that again so I can record it and bring it up to my damn sisters every time we fight?”

Logan laughed, which caused irritation to slither down my spine. She hadn’t laughed with me yet tonight. She chatted, smiled, but no laughter like that.

“Oh I can’t do that. As a sister myself, it would be betrayal.” She jutted her chin at the house. “Do you live here?”

“Sure do. Room on the top floor, all the way to the left.”

“She doesn’t need to know where your room is.” My muscles tensed. Was he expecting her to visit him there? With my arm around her? Men were fucking idiots.

“Giving her options, Hawthorne. I know you miss your shots often, so figured I’d be a good backup.” He winked at Logan and moved on to someone else.

“Do we like him or no?” Logan asked, leaning even harder into my side. “That was rude.”

“That’s Kyle.” I shrugged it off. “He’s a womanizer and generally harmless. He’s solid on the ice, so he’s fine.”

“But the comment about missing your shots… do you not date?”

That made me laugh. “I definitely don’t date, Logan. He referenced practice yesterday where I missed two shots in a shoot-out. That was normal shit-talking. We get way worse on the ice.”

“Hm. Sports are weird.”

“That we can agree on.”

“So why don’t you date?”

Not the question I expected as we walked into the house. It smelled like stale beer, overdone air freshener, and regrets. Yeah, I might’ve missed hanging with the guys, but I didn’t miss the scent. Our house now was clean, and Jordan always lit candles.

The smell was a major pro to moving out.

“That is a loaded question, Log.”

There were a bunch of people in the hallway, crowding it so we couldn’t walk next to each other. I positioned Logan behind me, still holding her hand as I guided us toward the basement. Shots were passed around, and LJ stood in the corner with his headphones. The dude wanted to be a DJ and refused to let any ribbing or failure stop him.

“Do you want a drink or just water?”

We stopped in a corner with two high stools and a table. I was surprised it was empty, but it was nice to steal the spot instead of a couch. I wanted Logan comfortable. She jumped onto the stool and crossed one leg over the other, drawing my attention to them. She had great legs, and yeah, I checked her out a few times. It wasn’t a sin.

A part of me wondered if some of her issues with Gage were how he treated her or what he made her think about herself. I nudged her knee with mine, waiting for her to meet my eyes. “What do you want to drink?”

“Uh, are you going to have something?”

“I might, but I asked you.”

She licked her lips and studied the room. Her facial expressions were so easy to read after knowing her a damn week. Questions brewed in her head, but she didn’t voice them. She sat up straighter, pushing her shoulders back, which only caused me to look at her chest.

She didn’t wear a damn bra. My gut tightened from the outline of the nipples on her cute tits. They were handfuls pushing against the thin fabric, and damn, my mouth watered. Clearing my throat, I forced myself to meet her eyes. “It’s your choice, Logan.”

“Uh, I think beer?”

“Have you had it before?”

“A few times, yeah.” Her cheeks pinkened, and she glanced away, tilting her chin down. “I know you think I’m lame.”

“I don’t at all.” I shook my head. “Stop it.”

She blinked, facing me again. “What—what did you say?”

“Stop talking about yourself that way. Why would I think you’re lame? Because you haven’t tried every beer and can’t do a keg stand for a minute?”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Well, yeah. Exactly that.”

“Logan,” I said, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Get this inside your pretty little head. I enjoy being around you and don’t think anything negative about you. I like that you’ve had a different experience than I have. I like that you’re wanting to do new things. You look fucking gorgeous right now, clearly out of your element, but I not only made a promise to Jordan, but I told you, you can trust me. So, zero negative self-talk around me. Got it?”

She licked her bottom lip, her dark brown eyes widening. “That was a nice boyfriend thing to say.”

“Well, get used to it.”

“I just might.” She grinned. “Gorgeous, huh?”

“Yes.” I leaned over the table onto my elbows, my face a few inches from hers. “Another thing about me. I don’t say things I don’t mean. You can take what I say at face value.”

“Interesting. So you don’t play head games? I swear Gage and all his friends did since they were on the team and popular. Lots of mind games or tricks, so I never really knew where I stood. Like if I wore something he didn’t like, he wouldn’t touch me or give me attention.”

“No.” I clenched my fist. An ache in my chest grew just thinking about Logan and someone toying with her. “I don’t have time or energy to play games like that.”

She nodded firmly. “Good. I like that. You’d be easy to date, which, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“That would be called avoidance, Log.” I winked at her, absolutely loving how her blush deepened.

“Don’t wink at me, sir. It makes me blush.”

“I’m aware. Same with when my shirt was off.”

“You noticed,” she deadpanned. “Great. Love that for me.”

“It’s cute.” I couldn’t help it—I had to touch her face. Without thinking about it, I pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting my finger graze her jaw. “If we were really together, I’d fucking love knowing I made you blush.”

“Mm.” She rubbed her lips together, her eyes lighting up with recognition before something dark flashed over them. “Rat Queen is here. Did you know that?”

“Don’t even know who she is.” I gripped the bottom of her chair and scooted her closer to me so our knees interlocked. Her right knee went between my thighs, where it was warm and fit perfectly. “She’s been bothering you, yeah?”

Logan swallowed hard, and her knee bounced against mine so hard the table shook. Instantly, I placed my hand on her bare knee, stilling her. “Hey, look at me.”

She did.

“We’re doing this,” I paused, pointing my finger between us, “To help her and your ex move on from you. This was the goal, right?”

She nodded, but worry and fear laced her eyes. “What if she knows the truth? That’d you’d never be into me? What if she comes after you ?”

“First off, if I dated, I’d be into you. You’re beautiful and funny, a little bit of a nerd, but it’s cute. But as you tried prying earlier, I don’t date because I’m a mess inside and have zero time for anyone but hockey. I’m nothing without the sport, and I have to put everything I am into making it to the NHL. It wouldn’t be fair to put my shit on anyone else. I have nothing to offer but friendship—which we have.”

Sure, I could do friends with benefits if the occasion called for it, but it’d never be like that with Logan. Not the girl who wore her heart on her sleeve and was fresh and raw from someone hurting her. I’d never be the guy who made it worse. She needed a friend, a protector, someone to show her how awesome she was. I’d make her life harder in some capacity. “Secondly, we’re just two friends hanging out. Maybe we’re flirting a bit, but you’re single and hot, and I’m single and hot. There’s nothing to pry into.”

“You’re being very complimentary right now, but I’d like to dig into why you think you’re a mess. You are definitely more than just hockey.”

I covered her hand with mine, my pulse picking up from her words. What she said wasn’t true, but it felt nice. “Tonight is about you, not me. Now as far as her coming after me? Not sure what you’re envisioning here, Log, but I’m really not into rats.”

Logan’s entire face transformed as she threw back her head and laughed hard. It was a goose-honking laugh. One from sitcoms and movies. Not one I’d heard in real life. People stared at us, brows arched, all trying to see how that horrible sound came out from someone as cute as Logan.

My lips twitched, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

“What a fucking laugh.” I covered my mouth with my hand, my eyes watering from keeping my own giggles under control.

“Sorry you had to witness that. Jordan calls it my honk for hooters laugh—which she swears is a bumper sticker she saw once when we were thirteen.” Logan wiped under her eyes where a little of her makeup smeared before she gripped my hand. “Thank you. I really needed that. You’re not only hot, but you’re funny too.”

I hated how much those words turned my insides around. I couldn’t recall anyone telling me I was funny. A jerk? Sure. Focused? Yes. Punk, idiot, smart ass, playboy, also yes. But amusing? Never in my entire life. Good on ice and that’s it. A coach told me that once, and when I got injured and couldn’t play, I was nothing. I had nothing. I was close to being that again too. So hearing that compliment healed a wound she’d never created.

If I wasn’t careful, this friendship and fake relationship with Logan could be a real distraction, one I didn’t need.