Chapter 12
TWELVE
Violet
I don’t realize how much tension I’ve been holding in until I hear Logan’s voice as he walks through the door that night.
"We’re good," he says. "He gave us his blessing."
And just like that, my entire body exhales.
I didn’t even know I was bracing for heartbreak until the fear finally slipped away.
Declan knows. And he didn’t explode. Didn’t forbid it. Didn’t threaten to body-check Logan into next week.
Instead, he gave us a chance.
And Logan? He came home to me.
I reach for him without hesitation, arms wrapping around his strong, steady frame. He sinks into me like he needs it as much as I do.
"Told you it’d be okay," I whisper.
His hand slides up my spine. "You did."
The next few days feel like a whole new world.
We still keep things semi-private—no PDA in the locker room, no hand-holding in front of staff—but we don’t hide anymore. Logan moves through the space with a subtle confidence now, like he’s done making himself smaller to protect everyone else.
Like he finally believes he’s allowed to want something for himself.
CJ high-fives me when he catches me sneaking Logan a kiss in the parking lot.
Ryder offers me a knowing wink and says, "Took you two long enough."
Even Coach doesn’t bat an eye when Logan walks in one morning holding a cup of coffee with my name written on it.
It’s not the circus I expected.
It’s better.
I edit a new reel that afternoon—mic’d-up footage from practice, plus a few sweet behind-the-scenes shots from game day prep. One clip catches me off guard: Logan kneeling beside a young fan in a Thunder jersey, his voice low, his hand steady on the kid’s shoulder.
"You don’t have to be loud to be strong," he says. "Sometimes, the quiet ones hold the line."
I blink fast as I crop the footage, my heart clenching in my chest.
He’s not just the captain.
He’s mine.
And I think I’m in love with him.
I don’t say it right away. I don’t even say it that night.
Instead, I show him.
Dinner. His favorite movie. Letting him have the last slice of pizza even though I want it. Falling asleep on his chest while he absentmindedly strokes my hair.
But the words are there.
Waiting.
Building.
By the time Saturday rolls around, I’m buzzing with them.
"You okay?" Logan asks as he drives us into town for brunch.
I nod, biting my lip. "Just thinking."
He arches a brow. "Dangerous."
I swat his arm, laughing. "Rude."
He catches my hand and kisses my knuckles before returning his focus to the road. "You’ve got that look."
"What look?"
"The one you get when you’re about to change my life."
I stare at him.
He doesn’t mean it seriously, but he’s not wrong either.
Because that’s exactly what I’m about to do.
We eat on the patio of our favorite little café. The sun is warm, the town is buzzing, and Logan is relaxed in a way I rarely get to see. Sunglasses on. Arm slung over the back of my chair. Smiling at something I said five minutes ago.
I sip my coffee, my heart pounding.
"Hey," I say softly.
He turns to me. "Yeah?"
I take a breath. "I love you."
The words are light. Simple. Effortless. Like they’ve always been true, and I just needed to say them out loud.
His expression doesn’t change right away.
But then he sets his coffee down, leans in close, and brushes a kiss against my cheek. "You just wrecked me, sunshine."
My heart skips.
He pulls back enough to look into my eyes. "I love you too."
I smile. A big, ridiculous, heart-swelling kind of smile.
He laces our fingers and holds them on the table for everyone to see.
No more hiding.
No more fear.
Just us.
And the kind of love that was worth every risk we took to find it.