Chapter 28 #2
“Hey!” That player says, crossing to us. Logan follows along right behind him, and a few others join them as the rest of the team head out to the patio. “Nice jersey. You’re a Buffalo fan?”
My throat closes as I climb back into the booth.
Liz immediately kicks me under the table, but how am I supposed to answer that?
Not really, because you’ve sucked for a long time, no offence, and also you hired my asshole father to fix that, and now he’s taking credit for yelling at my secret husband.
And all of you. Do you like being yelled at? I hated it and rebelled hard.
“Good game tonight,” I manage.
“Lego!” He shoves Logan to the front. “Check this out.”
“This is unexpected,” my secret husband says, glancing briefly at Liz before letting his gaze linger on my face. “I’m Logan.”
And whoa, but that makes my heart twirl so hard, a replay of New Year’s Eve, but this time we aren’t alone.
And this time, I don’t think he’s just some random hot guy drinking in a bar.
“I know,” I say, holding out my hand.
Not offering him my name, because I don’t want his teammates to breathe a word of Frankie or Francesca or anyone. We’re playing with fire enough as it is.
“Logan’s very single, you know,” his teammate says with a mischievous grin, and my face burns.
“Coop,” Logan warns.
“What? I’m just saying. Pretty girl in your jersey, and God knows when the last time you got laid was—”
“I’m good,” I say quickly. Too quickly. I swallow hard. So tempted to say that I’m already married, but then they might rib him for eye fucking a married woman.
Or leaving with one.
And the last time he got laid was like, twenty hours ago, because I crawled on top of him in the middle of the night.
God, this is a mess.
“We should probably let you ladies get back to your night,” He says slowly. His gaze drops to my mouth, then back up, and his chest expands with a deep breath. Heat floods my core, driving tingles all the way to my fingers and my toes.
I nod.
He drags his teammates away and I slump back in the booth.
“You’re a terrible actor.” Liz shakes her head. “But look, you survived!”
She lifts her glass and clinks it against mine.
I smile despite myself and nod.
Over the next half hour, I’m hyper aware of where Logan is every second. He goes outside, but takes a seat with a clear line of sight on our booth.
He’s locked in on me, too.
I finish my drink.
“Be right back,” I mutter, sliding out of the booth.
I order a water from Merry, who is very good at playing it cool, and pretends she knows nothing of what’s going on.
She’s a keeper for Liz.
Outside, Logan gets up. I feel it even without looking that way. That prickle of awareness, that shift in the air.
And then… “Hello again.”
I turn. He’s closer than I expected, close enough that I can smell his cologne, and it makes me want to press my face into his neck.
“Hi.” I gesture at Merry. “I’m getting water.”
He winks. “I didn’t get your name earlier.”
“I didn’t give it.” I smile at him. “But since you’re alone now…I’m Frankie.”
“Nice to meet you, Frankie. I’m Logan. Is Frankie short for something?”
“Francesca.”
“That’s a pretty name. Are you Italian?”
“You know I’m not,” I say in a rush.
“Is there a story there?”
On New Year’s Eve, it was one I didn’t want to tell. Tonight… I puff out my cheeks. “It’s complicated.”
He bites his lower lip and nods, understanding. “I hope I hear it one day.”
Then I whisper, “I’m not very good at this.”
“At what?”
“Acting like strangers.”
The corners of his mouth tip up. “We were strangers just a few days ago.”
“Isn’t that weird?”
“Very.” He nods to Merry. “I’ll take another shot of that whiskey, please.”
When she goes down to the other end of the bar to pour that for him, his knowing gaze drops to the jersey he gave me. “You look good in my number.” His pinky brushes mine on the bar top. “I want to fuck you in it.”
I gasp.
“And soon,” he says casually, putting a tiny bit of distance between us as Merry returns with whiskey for him and water for me. But his eyes don’t leave mine.
“I should get back to Liz,” I say.
I don’t move.
“How soon?” I ask.
His gaze flicks to his teammates outside. He lifts his glass and his knuckles turn white.
“I’m guessing it’s complicated,” I say lightly. No part of me wants to get involved in how or why. “Why don’t you take your drink back to the patio and finish celebrating with your teammates? And I’ll be over there with Liz. Feeling you watch me the entire time.”
“Frankie.” He catches my wrist as I start to slip away from the bar. “Francesca.”
Heat pools low in my belly.
If he wants to leave right now, I’ll leave with him. I want him to fuck me in this jersey, too. But I’m enjoying the anticipation. “Fifteen more minutes?” It’s a question. “Then you can walk me home like you’re pretending to be a gentleman.”
His eyes flash as he slowly releases my hand, his fingertips lingering on the pulse point at my wrist. “As long as we’re clear that I’m only pretending.”
Smiling, I watch him head back to the patio, to his team. It takes all of five seconds for his gaze to find me again, even before I rejoin Liz in the booth.
She leans in close. “Your husband is staring at you like he wants to devour you.”
“So much for being subtle.”
“What were you talking about at the bar?”
“He’s going to walk me home. Like a gentleman.”
She smirks, then wipes it away. “No, this is good cover. Now you’re just a random fan he’s hooking up with tonight, and he can walk out with you. But then underneath that is the really sweet truth that the man has it bad.”
The front door opens and a fresh wave of people come in.
I shift deeper into the booth, wanting my jersey to be invisible to them, but that also makes it harder to watch Logan out on the patio.
I re-focus on Liz. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“My poster presentation was accepted for the AMA Poster Showcase.”
“What?” I clap my hands. “Dude, why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I got the email while we were at the game.” She smiles slyly. “And I wanted to tell Merry first.”
“Sneaky girl. That’s amazing.” I exhale in wonder. “Wow, that feels real. This year the poster showcase, next year maybe you’ll be co-authoring a real study.”
She nods. “We’re so close.”
“Just gotta stay the course and get through these last six months.”
“And the three years after that.”
“And those.” I laugh. “But we’ll be MDs then. They’ll never be able to take that away from us.”
“There was another email, too, about commencement details.” Liz flips her phone up and starts looking for it.
Before she finds it, a smooth-skinned, well-dressed blonde guy comes out of nowhere and slides into the booth beside me.
“Hey there.” His smile is too confident, too familiar. “You’re way too pretty to be sitting here without some company.”
“Whoa, what am I, chopped liver?” Liz says, rolling her eyes at me.
“I’m here with my friends,” I point out.
He doesn’t take the hint. “I’m Cliff. And you are?”
“Not interested.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. Let me buy you a drink. What are you having?”
“I already told you—”
“One drink. That’s all I’m asking.” He shifts toward me, sliding his arm across the back of the booth, caging me in. “You came to a bar, right? That means you want to have a good time. I can show you a good time.”
“I’m not interested. And if I were you, I’d leave before—”
“You haven’t even given me a chance.” An edge of irritation cuts through the smarmy charm. “What, you think you’re too good for me? You’re cute but barely a six in this town. Look, I’m trying to be nice here—”
“She said no.” Logan’s voice is deceptively calm for a man suddenly looming over us, fury radiating off his tight expression, his bunched up shoulders.
His clenched fists.