Page 45

CHAPTER 45

ROSE

“O f all the things we could’ve done on our first date, this is what you really wanted?”

“Yup.” I grin radiantly at Logan and snuggle carefully into his left side. It was best that I sat here so that he could put his arm around me—like he has it right now—without aggravating his strained shoulder, but also so that I can protect his bruised side from anyone accidentally bumping into it.

He’s trying to school his expression but keeps failing. His eyebrows twitch with the desire to furrow, yet his lips want to smile. It’s interesting to see that I can cause so many emotions on someone, but especially on this particular guy.

“So just to clarify,” he says in his deep voice, only for me, while his hand casually feels the contour of my shoulder under the sleeve of the Orlando Wild jersey with his name and number. “We could’ve gone to any of the amusement parks, or a Michelin starred restaurant, or the beach, or even another city altogether—and what you really wanted was to watch a Wild baseball game with me?”

“That’s correcto, mi amor.” I reach over with a kernel of popcorn and bring it to his mouth.

Logan’s eyes narrow but he opens his mouth and I drop the popcorn in it. Except that the sneaky man captures my finger.

“Logan…”

“Hmm?”

He’s not biting hard at all, just enough to keep my finger prisoner. But then he closes his lips around it and I feel his tongue lick at the salt on the pad of my finger.

I gasp and glance around. “Oh my word, what if someone’s watching?”

He grabs my whole hand and brings it against his lips, placing an otherwise sweet kiss on the palm. “Let them.”

“What if we get on the kiss cam?” I ask, pretending to be grumpy about the idea.

“Then we give them a show.”

I shake my head and return to eating my popcorn. “Looking forward to it.”

His body vibrates with a silent chuckle.

A few fans turn to look at us none too discreetly and I can’t blame them. It must be bizarre to see Logan on this side of the park instead of on the diamond, making the mastermind calls he’s famous for. But it’s been a week since he got bulldozed and everyone knows he’s only coming back to play in a month at the earliest. With a low key injury like his, he’d normally be watching the home games from the dugout or even the broadcasting area, but I hijacked him instead for our first official girlfriend and boyfriend date.

Yeah, we decided to not screw around and just put labels on it already. It’s not like this is our literal first date.

“So, how does it feel like to be watching the game from here?” I ask him, munching on popcorn with little elegance.

He sticks his hand in the bucket and grabs a handful. Before biting into it, he says, “Weird. Like I assume this is how it’ll feel like whenever I’m retired.”

“Have you thought about what you’ll do when that time comes?” I pick up the gigantic cup of soda we bought for the two of us and offer it to him.

His eyes stay on the play as he sips from the drink. Miguel is stepping up to the plate for his at bat, and the whole place is electric with the collective knowledge that something amazing is about to happen.

While Logan isn’t buzzing, he’s attentive, his mind clearly calculating outcomes and possibilities. I almost think he might’ve forgotten my question until he speaks. “I’ll join the coaching staff and climb my way up to manager one day.”

“I can see that. That big brain of yours can’t possibly go to waste.”

“What about you?” He tears his eyes away a second before Miguel’s bat connects and the ball flies like an explosive cannon. The crowd goes absolutely feral, people jumping to their feet all around us. And yet Logan doesn’t care about that, he saw what he needed to see and his attention is now fully on me.

What a weirdo. And maybe I’m one too, because his antics make my tummy flutter.

“What about me?”

“Didn’t we fake date for the sake of a promotion? What happened to that?”

My feel-good hormones wane and I slump. “Turns out that wasn’t a done deal. I’ll still have to apply when Steve Boateng retires.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a done deal.” He jerks his thumb at the fans that keep peeping at us. “Those people aren’t just looking at me. You’re the face of the team now as well, you know?”

“But—”

“No buts.” He grabs my chin, turning my face toward him. “Also, the kiss cam is on us.”

“What?” I nearly upturn the bucket with my surprise.

Freeing myself from the gentle hold on my chin, I swivel my face side to side like a fan until I spot the camera trained right on us, and our faces perfectly squared on the gigantic screen next to the scores.

“Logan Kim.” I turn back to him. “Did you do this?”

“I did not,” he assures me calmly. “However, I did mention to Lucky in passing that this is where we were gonna have our date. So I suspect that this is his latest prank.”

“Lucky?” I raise my eyebrows.

“What can I say, they’re starting to grow on me.” He shrugs a little. “Are you gonna kiss me, woman?”

“What terrible hardship you inflict upon me,” I say dramatically before leading him toward my lips, my hand on his jaw.

The cheering booms all around us again. Logan shifts so that he’s facing me better and does the same trick as last week, hiding our connected mouths with his hand. But it must be pretty clear that this isn’t a simple peck in the lips going by how he works his jaw to devour my mouth.

He’s capable of soft and tender kisses—especially on my nose, he seems to like it a lot—but it’s like he’s trying to mark his territory in front of fifty thousand people, plus everyone else on TV. I hope my mom’s not watching the game right now or she’d be a little alarmed at how frantically I’m trying to do the same.

I need everyone to know that this thing between Logan and I is the real deal, and not just because there have been rumors going around on social media that it isn’t— thanks, Lewis —but because I don’t plan to give him up for anything or anyone in this world.

Something like a moan echoes in his chest when he finally pulls away, and I’m glad it’s too loud for anyone outside of our cocoon to hear it, or for them to catch the way our lips smack once they separate.

“Rose. Rose.” He squeezes his eyes tight and repeats my name one more time. “You drive me wild.”

Dazed from that kiss, I mumble, “Does it help if I tell you that you do the same to me?”

“It does not.” His eyes darken. “I want to treat you right, like a gentleman. But I’m not having very chivalrous thoughts right now.”

“You’re injured.” I swallow hard, knowing exactly what he means.

“A damn bummer, at that.”

“And are you okay with me calling that shot?” I ask, leaning back on his shoulder.

“Always.” He drops a pretty chaste kiss on my lips that still manages to give me goosebumps.

Still staring at his swollen lips, I say, “Even if I’m not ready for it any time soon?”

“Rose.” He reaches for my legs, sliding his hand behind my knees and lifting them until my legs swing over his powerful thigh, and I sit facing him. “I want you—all of you—as you decide to reveal yourself to me. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want, and I’m not going anywhere.”

I turn the bucket of popcorn in my hands over my lap, worrying my lips. “And if what I want is marriage?”

I know it’s too soon to even bring up the M word, but if the past year has taught me something, it’s that I’m sick and tired of lying and of hiding what I really want.

Going for broke, I say, “Because it might not seem like it, but what I really want is that old school house with a white picket fence and a dog, and dancing in the kitchen until our kids get embarrassed by us.”

Logan studies my face for what feels like the longest time, enough that I start to sweat.

But then he says, “You know, I’m actually not against that.”

“Really?” I startle. “Even though your upbringing was… well…”

“Shitty?” Logan nods. “Yeah, that’s why. I also want a family—a real one.”

“Okay.” I bite my lip but a smile is still poking through. “Good to know we’re on the same page.”

“What size is your ring finger?”

I bark a laugh. “Too soon, man!”

“When should I ask? In a year?” He turns back to watch the game but apparently is still pondering the topic. “Which type of gold do you like best? I assume you’ll want a purple stone.”

“Stop.” I’m still giggling up a storm when I smack his knee, connecting with the bare skin beyond his shorts. Logan grabs my hand and keeps it there, lacing his fingers between mine.

The memory of us doing this for the first time hits me, but it was in the back of Cade’s pickup and done as an experiment.

Now it’s real, and I have no doubt that my hand will be in his for a long, long time. Maybe one day with a purple rock on it.