Chapter 1
Chapter
One
Grocery shopping with hockey players was a bad idea under the best of circumstances.
Spending time with a one-time faculty member and Sharla’s ex immediately disqualified this evening as a good time, and yet here I was pushing a squeaky cart into Co-op.
At least Maddie was there. My one saving grace.
The automatic doors sighed open for Chase and Logan, burping out warm bakery air over the four of us.
Fluorescent lights hummed. A little kid in a puffy parka zoomed past in boots, nearly clipping my ankle.
Calgary in November turned the entrance to any building into a minefield with people trying to avoid the frigid temps or peanut butter snow slush (if we were lucky).
“Crystal!” Maddie waved me away from the produce section.
“Freezer aisle?” Chase, the one-time assistant coach for the Douglas University Outlaws and Maddie’s forever person, pulled the cart from my hands.
“Nice of you to wait until we were inside,” I teased, letting him push.
“The metal’s still threatening to fuse to my skin. It counts.”
Maddie huffed a laugh, giving Logan Kemp the side eye as he stopped beside us. That was deserved. Honestly, I probably deserved a look for saying yes to him participating in this little venture.
Logan cheated on Sharla while he was at World Juniors. There. I said it. It was nice of him to want to make amends and support Sharla and Rob, but it was going to take more than diapers and freezer meals to scrub “asshole” from his permanent record.
I started toward the cold section. “Should we shoot for quick food that’s edible, preferably not shaped like dinosaurs?”
Maddie fell into step beside me, shimmying out of her peacoat sleeves. “Dinosaur shapes increase compliance in controlled trials,” she deadpanned.
Chase’s mouth tugged. He reached out and slid his hand under her spiral curls, squeezing the back of her neck.
Ugh. He was obsessed with her. Not that I was mad about it, but watching Chase and Rob fawn over Maddie and Shar was getting to be a little much since I was the permanent fifth wheel in our group at this point.
“We could do lasagna or shepherd’s pie. Shar’ll actually eat those.” Logan pulled his ball cap lower over his face. Baby-blond hair stuck out the back, curling around his ears.
I gave him a look. “I don’t think you get to say what Shar will eat or not.”
Maddie’s eyes widened, but I walked ahead before either of them could say anything.
I was as surprised as anyone that I snapped.
I’d communicated with Logan a few times over the past few weeks and had been more than cordial.
But something about seeing him in person again made Sharla’s teary face, her body curled on her bed, pop back up in my mind.
Or maybe I was just trying to make it clear to Maddie and Chase that allowing him to come wasn’t the same as an invitation to make friendship bracelets.
I wasn’t going to treat him like a pariah, especially since Sharla was meant to be with Rob and Logan’s poor behaviour may have helped that happen. But had I been a little too nice?
“I deserved that.” Logan sped up to walk next to me.
“Yeah. You did.” I turned down the aisle for frozen meat. Chase and Maddie trailed behind us with the cart.
The freezer hummed with that constant low drone that made your teeth buzz, and behind the foggy panes, the world of prepared food awaited. Hungry-Man dinners, Salisbury steak, Stouffer’s lasagna, and something called a “complete chicken feast,” which sounded more like a dare than a meal.
I pulled open one of the doors, the cold air spilling out in a rush that made my fingers ache.
They still weren’t fully warmed from the parking lot.
I snatched two boxes of shepherd’s pie and handed them to Maddie to put in the cart.
I wasn’t going to admit Logan was right about that one, but I also wouldn’t withhold one of Shar’s favourites.
“And she likes those Michelina’s pasta bowls,” Maddie said. “Alfredo, not marinara.”
Logan wandered to the end of the aisle. While I loaded pasta bowls, he returned with an armful of juice concentrates. “For Rob. He eats these with a spoon.”
I grimaced.
“Wait, am I allowed to say what he likes?” Logan asked, his eyebrow raised, and I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. Logan at Douglas was never serious, and something in my stomach twisted when I realized I hadn’t seen him smile once since he got out of his truck tonight.
“That’s disgusting.” Maddie motioned for him to drop the juices in the cart.
“Shar also used to inhale those frozen spring rolls,” he said, squinting at the next section. “The ones in the yellow box.”
I shook my head. “She switched to red. The sauce packets are better.”
Logan’s mouth twitched. “Okay, then.”
“What? I’m not—I’m just stating a fact.” I marched toward the next door.
“Didn’t realize you were so pissed at me. That’s all.”
“I’m not pissed.” I yanked the door open.
“Feels like you’re pissed.”
I grabbed three red boxes. “Well, I don’t know. Seeing you all . . . like this—” I motioned at his waffle-knit, long-sleeved Henley that made it obvious he’d put on at least ten pounds of muscle since we’d last seen each other.
“Like what?” He threw out his arms.
“All successful and shit.” I dropped the boxes in the cart.
Logan huffed a laugh. “Ah. I’m a bad person, so the universe should be punishing me?”
Maddie and Chase pushed to the end of the aisle, pretending they didn’t hear any of this.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Yeah. Or at least not giving you million-dollar NHL contracts.”
“You’re right. All professional athletes are standouts in moral and ethical behaviour. I’m the anomaly.” Logan took a step closer. “Also, I’m pretty sure Shar won this round.” He spun and stalked off after the cart.
Won this round? I practically spluttered as I jogged after him. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You were the only one competing for—”
“For what?” He turned, glowering at me from under the brim of his hat.
“For . . . prom king. Or whatever they called it on that Buffy episode. A popularity contest.”
“I know what prom king is.”
“Well, I was making sure.” I swallowed hard. Logan stood at least a foot taller than me, and I’d never seen him like this. Like something inside him was about to snap. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept poking him with a stick. Repeatedly, like a dead squirrel.
He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I had a lot of issues.”
“Had?”
He wet his lips. “Yeah. They’re all gone now. I’m perfect.”
I scoffed.
Logan opened the freezer door and grabbed a bag of pierogi. “Sharla and Rob were meant for each other from the beginning. I’m not saying that to absolve myself. I know I acted like a dick. But . . . I don’t know. Maybe I always knew I wasn’t good enough.”
I blinked.
He paused and then finished, “Seems like we both got what we wanted.”
That comment made me work to pull my heart out of my throat. Sharla wanted Rob, but Logan—
“I got hockey.” He hissed, shoving his free hand in his pocket before stepping back, then turned and rounded the end of the aisle. Before he disappeared, he paused and said, “I’m going to get ice cream. Shar likes cookie dough. Unless that’s changed, too?”
My jaw dropped at his tone. Asshole.
I caught up to him at the whipped toppings. “So, what, this is your way of making things right?” That wasn’t going to happen. One couldn’t just buy a pint of ice cream to atone for all the crap he’d pulled.
Logan stopped at the next freezer and peered through the glass. “No.”
“What is it, then?”
“Like you said. Rob was my best friend.” He reached in and pulled out a container of Tillamook. “Despite my cold, dead heart when it comes to relationships, I actually do care about people.”
The door fell closed with a thunk. Maddie and Chase appeared at the end of the aisle, and Logan strode toward them, but didn’t quite make it.
A guy in a puffer vest let go of his cart and stepped into his path with a starstruck grin. “Hey. You’re Logan Kemp, right? From the Blizzard?”
Logan’s shoulders tightened an inch. “Yeah.” That old smile from Ranchman’s came out full force as he extended his hand, but then he thought better of it. Logan wiped his palm on his jeans before shaking. “Nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Casey.” The man held out a Co-op receipt and a pen without a cap, asked for an autograph, and then his wife popped around the corner with a bag of frozen peas and pretended she didn’t see what was happening. The blush on her cheeks gave her away.
She performed the whole “Oh, who?” farce fairly well, to her credit.
“Good luck this weekend,” Casey said. “We’re pullin’ for you, bud.”
“Thanks.” Logan nodded and continued on his way, setting the ice cream in the cart.
“You get that a lot?” I asked once we’d turned into the snack aisle.
“Some. It’s Calgary. People are nice about it.”
“Still weird, though, right?” Maddie pulled a bag of Doritos from the shelf.
Logan shrugged. “Not that different from Douglas.”
Chase laughed and nodded. “Campus celebrities.”
That was true. The guys on the Outlaws team couldn’t go anywhere after a big win without people trying to be buddy-buddy with them, dig up insider info, or get in their pants.
“It’s kind of different.” I grabbed a box of chocolate Teddy Grahams and added it to the cart. “But I’m sure there are benefits, right?”
Maddie gave me a look. I was being a brat, but couldn’t quite stop it. She read the signs and looped her arm in mine, then strode up the aisle. “Hey, friend. How are you?”
“So good.”
She stopped, staring up at the cookies. “You invited him, remember?”
“I was trying to be nice.”
“And now you decided to . . . not?”
I blew out a breath, checking to make sure he and Chase weren’t listening. They were chatting across the cart. “It’s just weird. He’s barely talked with Rob. Hasn’t reached out to the team. Like, why do all this when you’re not even willing to put forth effort with those guys?”