Chapter 43 Logan #2
I huff. “Good to see you too.”
He smirks. “I’m serious. You look…distracted.”
“Been a weird month,” I say lightly, like an understatement is safer.
He watches me for a beat. Then he says, “I know a call is coming your way.”
My stomach drops.
I keep my face blank because it’s muscle memory at this point. “What call?”
Carter’s smile turns sharp. “Don’t play dumb. We talked about this.”
My throat goes dry. “You’re sure?”
He shrugs. “I’m not their GM, obviously. But I’ve heard things and told them that if I throw you a ball, you’ll catch it.”
I stare at the counter like it might steady me.
Chicago.
A door cracked open when I’d been bracing for it to slam shut.
Carter’s voice drops a little. “You should be excited.”
“I am.”
“Bullshit.” He tilts his head. “What’s got you all twisted up?”
I can lie.
I’m good at lying.
But Carter’s always been the kind of guy who sees through bullshit the way he sees through coverages.
So I exhale and let the truth out, quiet and dangerous. “There’s…a girl.”
Carter’s brows lift. “No shit.”
I glare. “Not like that.”
He straightens a little. “Who?”
I hesitate for a second before answering. “Sloane.”
Carter’s eyes widen just slightly. He lets out a low whistle. “Oh, that’s…messy.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Surprised Cam has left you standing.” Carter’s gaze sharpens. “You in love with her?”
My chest tightens, and I feel like I’ve lost the ability to speak. I don’t answer fast enough.
Carter nods like he got what he needed. “Yeah. Okay.”
He pushes off the counter. “Look, I’m not going to give you some motivational speech.”
“Thank God.”
“But.” He points at me. “Don’t you dare use her as an excuse to duck out on your future just because you’re recovering from an injury. You belong out on that field.”
My jaw flexes. “I’m not.”
He raises his eyebrows and heat crawls up my neck. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Carter smirks. “I’ve known you for four years, dude. That’s enough.” He claps my shoulder. “If that call comes, you take it. You hear me?”
I swallow. “And if it means leaving her?”
Carter’s expression softens a fraction. “Then you talk to her. Like an adult. You don’t just disappear.”
My stomach twists.
Carter’s voice goes quieter. “Just don’t make a decision out of fear, Brooks.”
Then he walks back into the living room like he didn’t just rip me open.
—
I find Jaxon in the hallway a few minutes later, away from the noise. Madison is in the living room with Lyla, both of them perched on the arm of the couch like they’re watching a championship game instead of a draft broadcast.
Jaxon’s leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching Madison through the doorway with that same look.
That same unwavering, stupidly tender devotion.
He notices me noticing and smirks. “What?”
“Nothing,” I mutter. “Just…you look like you’re going to propose again.”
His smile softens. “I might.”
I shake my head. “How do you do it?”
Jaxon’s brows lift. “Do what?”
“Look at her like that,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean. “Like she’s…the whole point.”
Jaxon’s expression turns serious, the teasing fading. “Because she is.”
My chest tightens.
He studies me, like he’s clocking the weight behind my question. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I hesitate. Then the truth spills out, because something about Jaxon’s steadiness makes it feel possible.
“Sloane…” I swallow. “She’s not okay. None of us are, but she’s—” I shake my head. “And now there might be a call coming from Chicago.”
Jaxon’s gaze sharpens. “And you don’t know what to do.”
“No,” I admit. “Because the NFL has been my entire life. But she’s…she’s—”
I can’t say everything.
Not out loud.
Not yet.
Jaxon exhales slowly, nodding like he understands the shape of it anyway. “I get it.”
I huff a laugh with no humor. “Yeah?”
He glances into the living room again, eyes landing on Madison like it’s instinct. “I left a lot on the table for her. Took risks people said were stupid. And it didn’t always make sense on paper.”
He looks back at me, steady. “Love makes you do crazy things.”
My throat burns. “And what if I choose wrong?”
Jaxon’s voice goes softer. “You won’t.”
I stare at him. “How do you know?”
“Because if it’s real,” he says simply, “you’ll find your way back to each other. Even if the path looks different than you planned.”
Madison laughs at something Lyla says, throwing her head back, and Jaxon’s face lights up like someone flipped a switch inside him.
He reaches out without thinking—just hooks a finger in the belt loop of her jeans and tugs her a little closer when she leans away.
Madison glances at him, amused, and he murmurs something I can’t hear.
Whatever he says makes her expression soften. Then she nods and kisses his cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
What they have?
That is what I want, but I also want the future I’ve dreamed of since I was a kid with no real direction.
Jaxon’s gaze flicks back to me, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “Follow your heart,” he says again, quieter this time. “Not your fear.”
I swallow hard.
Behind us, the room erupts in a sudden roar.
We both snap our heads toward the TV.
Sophie is on her feet, hands over her mouth. Lyla is screaming like she’s being attacked. Carter’s yelling something I can’t make out.
And Beck—
Beck is frozen, eyes wide, like his brain can’t process that his name just got said out loud.
Then he stands up so fast he knocks the coffee table with his knee.
The TV graphic flashes: SELECTED — BECK HARRISON — LINEBACKER and the team name underneath is Jaxon’s.
Beck’s head whips toward Jaxon like he needs to confirm it’s real.
Jaxon grins. “Told you it was a big night.”
Beck makes a strangled sound, half laugh, half sob, and Sophie launches herself at him.
The whole house explodes into celebration.
And for a few minutes—just a few—we’re all lifted up by something bright.
I just stare at Beck, at the joy on his face, at the way Sophie is crying and laughing at the same time, at Lyla clinging to Madison like she just watched her own brother get drafted.
And I think about Sloane.
About the promise I made her.
If it gets bad, you call me.
My hand closes around my phone as it starts buzzing in my pocket.
And even in the middle of the celebration, even with the roar of the room around me—
My heart races with one single, ruthless thought:
If she needs me right now, I’m leaving everything else behind without even thinking.