Chapter 4
FOUR
LOGAN
Friday night in a college town is basically a migration.
Students pour out of dorms and apartments, spilling toward the handful of houses that haven’t been condemned yet or frat houses that are hosting that weekend's party. Music and cheap beer are the heartbeat of this place, and tonight I’m following that pulse with Daniel at my side.
He’s bouncing like he’s already had three Red Bulls. “This party’s gonna be sick. Hockey team, football team, plus half the dance team. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I grin, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets. “I make my own fun.”
“Yeah, well, I want to witness your fun. It’s like watching a soap opera.”
I smirk. He’s not wrong. I’m not shy. And I’m not here to blend in. Guys, girls, I'm not picky.
The house is loud, music vibrating through the porch boards. Someone already broke a chair on the lawn. Classic. We shoulder our way in, and the smell of sweat, booze, and popcorn hits me like a wall.
And there he is.
Todd Shaw, Captain Serious himself, in a fitted Henley that clings to his shoulders.
He’s got a beer in hand and that guarded look he always seems to wear in public, as if he’s trying to keep the world at arm’s length.
Our eyes meet for half a second, and that familiar jolt hits me.
Predictable. Addictive. Probably too distracting to act on, but I’m also reckless, so I know I will.
Daniel follows my gaze and snickers. “Oh yeah. Tonight’s gonna be entertaining.”
Before I can say anything, I spot her—the blonde waitress from the diner that day, hair loose tonight, smoky eye makeup on point. She beams when she sees me, like she’s been waiting all week for round two.
Perfect.
I slide through the crowd toward the makeshift kitchen-bar area, where she’s perched with a red cup against the counter. “Hey, stranger,” I say, leaning in just enough to catch her eye. “Didn’t expect to see you off-duty.”
She laughs, twirling a piece of hair. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“What can I say? My friend likes parties.” I nod toward Daniel, who’s already disappeared into a crowd of dancers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Todd across the room, jaw tight, pretending he’s deep in conversation with one of the defensemen.
Good. He’s watching. I’m not sure when my every move started to be a calculation on how to get his attention on me, but when I say I’m addicted…Yeah, I am.
I take the blonde’s cup from her hand, pretending to inspect it. “Hope this isn’t your first drink tonight. You’ll need at least three to dance with me later.”
She giggles, and I hand the cup back, letting my fingers brush hers. It’s light, casual. But I know exactly who I’m really playing for.
When I glance back at Todd, he looks away too late.
Her lips curl into a sly smile as she leans a little closer, shoulder brushing mine. “I don’t need three drinks to dance with you,” she says, voice pitched low like it’s a secret. “One is plenty.”
Confident. I like that. She’s my type. Not that I’m here for her.
I tip my head, giving her my best grin. “Good to know. Guess that means I get your name before we hit the dance floor?”
“Janine,” she says, offering her hand like she’s expecting me to kiss it.
I take it, letting my thumb graze her knuckles for a second longer than necessary before I release it. “Logan.”
“I know,” she teases, glancing toward the living room where a couple of guys are playing beer pong in team hoodies. “The team talks about you.”
My grin widens. Oh, that’s rich. I resist the urge to glance back at Todd again because I can feel him over there, simmering in that quiet, coiled way of his.
“Well, Janine,” I murmur, leaning one elbow on the counter next, “I’m glad you came tonight. Pretty sure you just made this party more interesting.”
She giggles and takes a sip of her drink, eyes glinting with that flirty challenge. “Then come dance with me, hockey boy.”
The music pulses through the living room, bass vibrating under my sneakers. Janine pulls me onto the makeshift dance floor—a patch of rug between the couch and coffee table where a handful of couples sway and grind to the beat.
She’s already moving, hips rolling to the rhythm, hands sliding up my chest like we’ve done this a hundred times. I settle my hands at her waist, just enough to keep up appearances, and let her lead the dance.
But my eyes drift.
Across the room, Todd leans against the wall, half in shadow, a bottle dangling from his hand. He’s pretending to be focused on the game of beer pong happening a few feet away, but his gaze keeps flicking over. Every time our eyes almost meet, he jerks his away, jaw tight.
Janine loops her arms around my neck and rises on her toes. “You dance better than I thought you would,” she says, breath warm against my ear.
I chuckle low, keeping the sound casual. “Guess you’ll have to keep testing me.”
Then, without a bit of hesitation, she kisses me.
It’s quick and eager, her lips soft, the faint taste of cheap liquor lingering. My hands tighten instinctively on her hips, but I don’t kiss her back—not at first. My gaze slides past her, locking on Todd across the room.
He’s frozen. Not moving. His knuckles are white around that bottle.
That’s when I let myself respond, angling my mouth against hers, letting the kiss deepen just enough to sell it. But it’s all surface—mechanical. My pulse isn’t racing for her.
It’s for the boy glaring like he wants to break something.
When she pulls back with a flirty laugh, I offer a slow grin, but my eyes flick past her to Todd again.
And that’s the hit I was looking for. That look in his eyes that says he just might step out of the closet.
Janine’s fingers toy with the collar of my shirt, but my attention keeps slipping past her to the wall where Todd’s posted up like he’s part of the architecture.
He hasn’t moved, hasn’t taken another sip. He’s just watching.
The thrill that had me kissing Janine in the first place fades fast. My grin softens, and I take a small step back, letting her hands fall from my collar.
“Hey,” I say lightly, pretending to scan the room. “I should go check in with my buddy before he loses our reputation at pong. Rain check?”
She pouts playfully, but she’s not bothered. “Don’t wait too long. I’m a popular dance partner.”
“Noted,” I say, flashing her a wink as I slip away.
I weave through the bodies, the bass from the speakers pounding in my ribs, until I reach the pong table, near Todd, where Daniel is lining up a shot with a red cup in hand. He glances up, grinning wide.
“Brooks! Perfect timing. I need backup—these guys are killing me.”
I clap him on the shoulder, putting on my easygoing party face. “Can’t have that. Team pride’s on the line.”
But even as I step into the circle, grab a ball, and pretend to focus on the cups, I feel that burn on the side of my face.
Todd’s eyes.
He hasn’t stopped watching.
And every muscle in my body is wired tight with the satisfaction of knowing he saw everything—and the ache that says I wish it had been him instead.
I line up my shot, letting the ping pong ball roll between my fingers. The room smells like spilled beer and cheap chips, but all I can focus on is that familiar weight of being watched.
Next to the doorway, Todd hasn’t moved from his spot. He’s pretending to follow the conversation with a couple of the guys from the team, but his jaw’s still tight, and every now and then his gaze flicks to me like he can’t help himself.
I sink the shot—clean bounce, right into the cup—and Daniel whoops.
“Finally! Knew I picked the right partner,” he says, slinging an arm around my shoulders.
I grin, easy and loose for the crowd, but the truth is my pulse is still running hot from that kiss. From the way Todd froze across the room.
Janine drifts through the edges of the game with a couple of her friends, flashing me a wink as she passes. I toss her a quick smile, but I don’t take the bait. Not right now.
Instead, I keep my attention split—half on the cups, half on the captain I’m slowly driving insane. Every smirk, every laugh, every time I lean just a little too close to someone else, I know he’s noticing it.
I want him to stew.
I want him to want.
When Daniel nails the last cup, sending the other team groaning in defeat, I throw my arms up like we just scored the winning goal. The room cheers, the music thumps, and I ride that buzz of energy, but it’s not the game that’s got me lit up.
It’s the fact that I can feel Todd’s stare like a hand between my shoulder blades.