Chapter 12 #2
“Nah. I’ll eat at home. Um, I mean, your place…” A little of his animation was replaced with uncertainty.
“Home. Definitely.” I didn’t want him doubting that.
A year ago, we’d planned to start living together at my place, and now I wanted that so much it hurt.
“Avery’s there, but she’s apartment-hunting.
Come on.” I didn’t wrap my arm around him the way I wanted to, there in his team space, but I tapped the back of his hand with mine.
Logan glanced around the room, at all the people not watching us, and the few who were.
Then he went up on tiptoe and tilted his head for a kiss.
I wasn’t about to say no. We kept it fast and simple, no more explicit than Wilkins and his wife, but Logan’s eyes shone when he dropped his heels back to the floor and fisted the hem of my jacket.
“See you fuckers at practice tomorrow,” he called, leading me toward the door.
“Sure,” someone called back. “Remember, no sex injuries.”
Someone else hooted, and Logan coughed as we left the room. “Sorry about that.”
“Nah, that’s cool.” In the privacy of the empty corridor, I hugged him to my side. “It’s when they don’t troll you at all that you’re in trouble.”
“God, so true.” Logan heaved a sigh. “I think that went okay, but I am so ready to get horizontal.”
“By yourself, or with company?” I let him lead the way toward the parking lot.
“With you. Definitely with you.”
We stepped out into the cool, damp January air. I said, “Want to ride with me? I could bring you back for your car in the morning before school.”
Logan grinned. “No offense, dude, but practice isn’t till eleven tomorrow. I get to sleep in. So no, thank you. I’ll meet you at your place, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Drive safe.” I watched to make sure he crossed the lot without mishap and his old car started, before heading for mine.
Some of the other players came out, shoving each other and laughing loudly.
Mortenson was among them, and he shot a look my way.
I folded my arms to make my biceps strain my jacket, leaned on my car, and crossed one ankle over the other, eyeing him until they piled into one car together and drove off.
Maybe that was too “possessive Neanderthal.” If Logan had noticed, there was a good chance he’d be pissed, but I knew bullies. They only stopped if the consequences were significant enough.
I didn’t trust Logan’s team, or any professional sports league, to really dole out consequences for bad behavior.
Hell, even at the high school level I coached, if I benched a top player for some shit they’d done, I’d have a dozen angry emails from team parents and a call to talk to the vice-principal about whether we couldn’t find a different “consequence” for the poor boy.
So if Mortenson looked my way and saw a consequence that could punch his face in, I was perfectly fine with that.
Despite driving with a heavy foot on the gas, I arrived to find Logan had beaten me home.
He’d parked on the drive outside the front door and sat waiting, vapor behind the car showing his engine was still running.
I hit the control for the garage door and gestured at him.
After a moment, he eased forward into my spot.
I parked on the drive and jogged into the garage to join him. He stood staring at the Volvo I’d bought him two years ago. “You kept it?”
“Yeah.” I moved up behind Logan, but didn’t quite dare wrap my arms around him like I wanted to.
“I figured you’d sell it.”
“I guess some small part of me never stopped hoping.”
Logan turned to me, his body inches from mine. “Part of me never stopped either.” He pulled me down for a kiss.
I broke free to say, “The door,” before realizing, who the fuck cared about the open door? No more secrets. No more hiding. I grabbed Logan and hauled him into the hottest kiss I could, glorying in the feel of his sturdy body and the welcoming heat of his mouth against mine.
Words I shouldn’t say rose to my lips, so I kissed the hell out of Logan instead.
When we broke apart, he laughed and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Wow.”
“For sure.” I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the house. “Come on, let’s get out of the cold.”
We passed through the mudroom and into the kitchen. There, Logan turned in a slow circle, scanning the space. “That’s new.” He pointed at my espresso machine.
“Yeah, I’m kind of addicted now. I’ll make you a latte, if you want.”
“Not really what I’m hungry for.” He grinned, but before I could kiss him again, Avery wandered into the room. “Hey, Miles, have you seen—” She froze. “Oh, Logan. Hi again.”
Logan stepped back from me. “Hi. I’m glad to see you safe.”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Um. I’m so, so sorry about how I messed things up for Miles. With the engagement and all? My father drives me to temporary insanity. That’s my only excuse.”
“Hey,” Logan told her. “It wasn’t all bad. If I hadn’t seen stories about that mess in the paper, I might never have called Miles. If you hadn’t needed help moving your art, he might not have needed me.”
“I always needed you,” I murmured.
“Maybe, but we were both too hardheaded to say so.”
“True.”
Avery eyed us. “You know what? You guys need some alone time. I’m going to find a hotel room and give you space for the night, okay?”
I should’ve assured her she could stay, but the thought of a night with Logan, here in our safe space with no spectators, was too sweet to turn down. “Call the Royal,” I suggested. “I’ll pay. You can have some luxury while we…”
“While we.” Logan grinned.
“Right. Okay.” Avery nodded. “I’ll go pack a few things. Give me ten minutes. Maybe fifteen.”
“You don’t have to—” Logan began, always a softer touch than me.
“Yes, she does,” I interrupted. “I have plans for you. Loud plans.”
Avery giggled and hurried out.
Logan turned to me. “I think you shocked that sweet child.”
“She’s engaged to Rachel. I doubt she’s that sheltered.”
Logan wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to know. So what do we do until she leaves?”
“I’m going to feed you.” I turned to the fridge. “I remember how hangry you used to get after games. I’m not taking any chances with an unfed hockey player.”
Logan plastered himself to my back, grinding against my ass. “There’s only one thing I’m really hungry for.”
“Oops,” Avery said. “I was going to get my sweetener. For coffee.”
Logan put some space between us.
I said, “Sure. I’ll grab it,” and reached the agave syrup out of the cupboard for Avery.
She hustled out again, and Logan laughed. “Maybe food’s a good idea.”
“Only kind I have. I picked up Italian takeout on the way home from school. Just needs reheating.”
“You’re the best boyfriend.”
I turned. Logan looked at me, a shine in his gray eyes, full lips parted in a smile.
He stood a little crooked, probably favoring that hip, but every inch of him was fit and strong and perfect.
And here. In my kitchen, where we’d spent a hundred hours, made dozens of meals, shared sleepy morning coffee, fucked more than once with Logan perched on the counter while I sucked him, or on his knees, or bent over…
“Fuck. Kiss me first,” I said. “Food after.”
I’d kissed Logan a thousand times, but this might’ve been my favorite— slow and deep and sweet, swaying together, no place to be, no goodbye in sight.
We weren’t warming up to fuck each other, or hiding from the world.
This kiss was “Hello” and “You’re here,” “I missed you” and “I need you.” Our lips brushed, tongues stroked, breath mingled as we fit together in familiar ways.
Logan fisted his hands in my hair, the little pull grounding.
I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, not frantically but powerfully, his body plastered the length of mine, every inch reminding me Logan was back in my life at last.
“Ack, sorry,” Avery said. “Just me again. I wanted to let you know my ride’s here and I’ll, um, text before I head back in the morning.”
Logan pressed his forehead to my throat and laughed. I smiled at Avery over his head. “Thanks. Good plan.”
“See you tomorrow.”
We stood there, leaning on each other and listening as the front door opened, then closed.
“Okay.” Logan nipped my chin. “Where were we, boyfriend?”
I was going to quip about foreplay, or food, but instead I cupped his head between my hands and met his gaze. “We were remembering how much we love each other.”
“Oh!” A slow, sweet smile crept over Logan’s face. “You know, that’s exactly what we were doing.”
“Want to do it some more?” I asked.
Before he could answer, his stomach rumbled loudly.
“Let me rephrase.” I set him aside and opened the fridge. “I’m going to put food in the microwave, and then kiss you some more, and then feed you, and take you to bed. You may not get much sleep. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.” Logan pressed a kiss to my flannel-covered shoulder. “Absolutely perfect.”
“For how long?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Logan tilted his head, his eyes fixed on mine. “How does forever sound?”
That should’ve been too much, too soon. I should’ve wanted to go slow and protect myself, but there was only room for one answer in my heart. “Perfect,” I echoed. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”