Chapter 26 #2
“Fine. I won’t say anything.” I turned to Connor, reaching for Logan’s hand at the same time. “But when everything blows up in your face, I’ll be the first to say I told you so.”
I grabbed Logan’s hand, and I drew him back out to the sidewalk. My world almost felt louder, despite leaving the chatter and the coffee grinder behind. My thoughts grew in volume, taking up the space.
I dropped Logan’s hand once we were away from Expresso’s windows, but still on the sidewalk near the coffee shop.
“They’re—they’re so stupid,” I gasped out, running my fingers through my hair.
“Idiotic. Seriously lost their minds. I don’t—I don’t even get why he’d keep it a secret from Jade in the first place! ”
I mean, I understood, Jade would’ve had a thing or two to say about him needing a tutor, but wasn’t her knowing better than not knowing? Then sneaking around behind her back? Did that not stress him out?
Logan scratched the side of his neck. “Why does he need a tutor, like, three weeks into the school year?”
“Right?” I scoffed, and then it sank in. “Right? Oh my gosh, do you think the tutoring was a cover?”
“Madison—”
“Do you think they’re actually in there on a date right now? And they thought, ‘oh, bring your math book, Maisie, and we’ll pretend we’re tutoring if we get caught’? Oh, those two little—”
“What did she mean?” Logan asked suddenly. “What did Maisie mean when she said just like last time?”
Crap. He’d caught that. I let out a little breath as I stared up at him, feeling the cold wind stir the hem of my dress. “Well,” I began slowly. “Uh—”
“Did she post something about us?” The urgency that had filled me now crashed into Logan. “She did, didn’t she?”
I thought about lying, but he’d check Babble the second he got home. “She took a picture of us last Wednesday, when you dropped me off,” I said quietly. “And posted it to Babble.”
“Wednesday?” Logan’s eyes flew wide. “And you didn’t say anything?”
He wasn’t angry—thankfully—but the panic in his expression made my stomach twist. “I didn’t want you to worry—”
“Jade.” His voice cracked like a whip, eyes flashing. “She found out? Did she say something? Did she tell you—”
“This is why I kept it to myself,” I murmured in a soothing voice, taking a step forward and reaching for his arms. “It’s fine. She thinks you moved onto some other Brentwood girl, not me.”
The haunted look in Logan’s eyes didn’t fade. “She knows.”
“She doesn’t.” But she was suspicious. That was why she’d called Mom Friday when I’d left the Players Only party.
I definitely wasn’t going to tell Logan that.
“The only people who know now are your friends, and Maisie and Connor. And those two—they won’t tell.
Not if I don’t. And I won’t.” I gave his upper arms a squeeze. “I’ve got it handled.”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut, but his own hands came up and cupped my elbows, grounding himself to me. “I’m just—” Logan drew in a breath, one that caused his chest to rise and fall shakily. “I just hate waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“But we’ll be together if it drops. And it’ll be okay.”
I hadn’t realized just how much anxiety Logan carried, like holding the football too long with defenders closing in. This is why you can’t handle everything yourself, I wanted to tell him. One running back can’t win the game on his own.
“I’m the reason they broke Noah’s leg,” Logan confessed suddenly, words whispered while his eyes remained pinched closed.
My lips parted. “What?”
“It’s my fault.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “I’m the reason they went after him.”
A bright light flashed in my peripheral vision, and for a horrifying moment, I thought it was a camera flash.
But, no, it was just headlights flicking on from across the street.
Still, I became too aware of how public we were at that moment.
Grabbing Logan’s wrist, I led him down the sidewalk and to the alley we’d stepped into once upon a time.
It was much, much darker now than it’d been a few weeks ago, so dark that I could barely make out Logan’s features. His eyes were open, but I couldn’t make out what emotion simmered within them—just that they were glassy. “Logan,” I murmured. “Why would you say that?”
“Last year, two guys from Brentwood—at Expresso’s, the day before the game—they offered me money.” His voice shook, small and deeply upset. “They wanted me to throw a few plays. Said it’d look bad if Brentwood lost to the Bulldogs. Kyle and Ashton.”
If it’d been anyone else, I might not have believed him. But Ashton and Kyle? That at least sounded possible.
“They offered—three hundred bucks. Chump change, they said. Just to let them win. They… they came to me, not Noah… because I looked easier to… to convince.”
More like easier to manipulate, if I could guess Ashton’s thought process. I bit my lip. It was still extreme. Even for them. I squeezed Logan’s arm, feeling the tension coiled through him. “Did you take it? Did you… accept?”
“Of course not.” At his sides, his hands opened and closed, unable to hang still. “And since I didn’t let them win, they targeted Noah instead. It’s my fault. All of this.”
I still couldn’t see how it related now, but I tried to catch his eye. “You did the right thing, saying no,” I told him. “It’s not your fault they went after Noah.”
“I didn’t tell Noah or the coaches. I thought it’d be fine, since I said no. And if I’d just… just accepted it—fumbled a couple times—maybe none of this…” His voice faltered as he gasped in a breath. “Maybe none of it would’ve happened. None of this would’ve happened.”
“Logan,” I murmured and cut him off, my heart breaking in my chest. It was a physical pain, one that shattered through me.
I still wasn’t sure what this was, and how it connected to the picture of us getting posted to Babble, but in that moment, I didn’t care that I couldn’t connect the dots.
I only cared about him. “My sweet Logan. Breathe.”
His chest quivered when he tried to take in air, and in that moment, in the low light, he looked so much like a little kid with his own heart broken.
I wrapped him up in my arms as if I could tuck him away from all the bad feelings brewing within him.
My embrace pinned his arms down, and I focused on crushing his trunk, listening to his frantic heartbeat.
“I’m sorry.” The words trembled out of him. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I should’ve told my coach about the bribe, should’ve told Noah, and I should’ve told you about—about what really—”
“You are taking on too much,” I said to him, squeezing him tight.
“Logan, not everything is a weight you have to carry. Not everything is your fault. You can’t handle everything, even though you want to.
” I pressed my ear firmer to his chest. His heartbeat still hadn’t slowed.
“You have to lean on others, even just a little.”
A small sound escaped him, like a soft exhale. My sweet Logan, I thought, rubbing my hand down his back, and for the first time, I wasn’t focused on his muscles or his scent or how perfect we fit together. All I was focused on was thinking of how to get through to him.
“Even if Ashton and Kyle broke Noah’s leg because you didn’t take their money, it’s not your fault. It’s theirs. They’re the ones who did it. They’re the ones to blame. You can’t take on the guilt they refuse to carry.” My brow furrowed, pressure pricking behind my own eyes. “It’s not yours.”
Logan’s breaths came in shaky bursts, but I could feel the tremor in his chest slow as my ear pressed to it. My arms ached from how tightly I held him, but if it meant I could squeeze the panic and urgency from his body, I’d never let go.
A tear slid down my cheek at the thought of the smiley, Golden Retriever of a boy everyone saw, the one who wagged through life carrying so much pain beneath the surface. I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed over these past few weeks, how well he could hold it all in. My sweet, sweet Logan.
I wanted to take every ounce of weight from his shoulders and carry it for him, but for now, all I could do was this—hold him tightly, listen to his heartbeat, and vow that no matter what, I’d never be the reason he felt this way.
And I’d get to the bottom of it.