Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Logan waited for me to grab the contract and sit on the bed, then handed me my coffee and dropped down beside me. The mattress dipped, making me sway into him. I tried to scooch over, but our knees were still touching.
“I’ve got this clause,” he said. “Community involvement. Team wants more outreach. Hospital visits, youth camps, whatever. It’s supposed to make us look good after last season’s mess.”
It took me a minute, but then I remembered Axel and Rory talking about the Blizzard at Ranchman’s at the end of last season.
Officially, it was “an off-ice incident during the final road trip.” Unofficially, half the roster got blind drunk at a sponsor’s retreat in Kelowna and managed to burn every bridge between here and the Okanagan.
A few players crashed a corporate yacht party, and there were reports of one player saying unrepeatable things to a Canada Parks employee when she told him to put his pants back on.
The RCMP got involved when someone called about naked men singing Alanis Morissette’s ‘Ironic.’”
He gave me a look. “Yeah. That one. Anyway, if I do Marcus Foundation stuff or attend events, it’s logged as community service hours. The PR team is happy, and you get to have your job opportunity.”
Logan shifted, and his knee rubbed against mine. My skin started to buzz, but I ignored it and spun my coffee cup in my hands. “Okay, but have you looked at the dates?” There were only four. Not the end of the world, but Logan could very well be booked for any or all of them.
November 10th, Donor breakfast
November 15th, Mixer, Palliser Hotel
November 21st, TBD
December 12th, Gallery press reception
January 6th, Grand opening
“I’d have to look at my calendar at home, but I think he did his homework. Those weeks are home games.”
That made sense. If Norman’s plan was to use Blizzard players to secure more donors and sponsors, he definitely would’ve worked around their game schedule.
I worried my lower lip. “What about your parents?” I wouldn’t have to tell anyone if I didn’t want to.
Norman only wanted Logan there, so I was hoping I could fade into the background at these events and nobody would be the wiser.
But him? His mom was already involved with this project.
Norman was bound to say something at some point if we didn’t correct him.
He huffed a laugh. “Are you kidding? She’ll be thrilled. If I got involved with a good cause? Yeah.” Logan leaned back on the bed. “After Juniors, she was more pissed about the press than Shar was.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “She’s—look, my parents are religious. Old-school. Church every Sunday, bake sales, ‘honour thy mother and father’ and all that. She hated the pictures. Said I’d humiliated her.”
I frowned. That’s what she cared about? I chose my next words carefully. “Did Shar ever meet them?”
Logan nodded. “A couple of times.”
“Huh.”
Logan gave me a look.
“What?”
“You’re allowed to say it but I’m not?”
I rolled my eyes. “I just meant, it’s weird that they weren’t worried about her, you know?”
Logan wet his lips. “Yeah. They didn’t exactly approve.”
“Of Shar?” My eyes flew wide.
“Of anyone who’s not a good Christian girl with a chastity belt and a promise ring.”
I turned on the bed, tucking my leg under me. “I mean, Shar’s pretty close.”
“We were living together.”
Oh yeah. Good point. “Well. They’ll love me, then. I’m not living in sin. I haven’t lived in sin ever.”
Logan’s face split into a smile. “You’ve never lived with a guy?”
“Nope.” I answered a little too proudly, then tried to backpedal. “Not because I didn’t have options, it just didn’t ever—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He was still watching me, amused. I suddenly felt like a teenager trying to look cool in front of my older brother’s friends. “Do you . . . you know. Date?”
I scoffed. “Of course I date.” True and also misleading. I didn’t remember the last time I went on an honest-to-goodness date with a guy. “I had a lovely night staying over at the hotel with Jake from Vancouver last year at the invitational.”
Logan’s eyes widened, and heat crawled up my neck.
“You know. For example.” I wanted to bury my head under my pillow. Why had I announced that?
“Jake. Wait, was he one of their forwards?”
I nodded.
“And you hooked up with him?”
I held my hands over my face. “Can we stop talking about this, please?”
“No, I’m just wondering why him. He didn’t seem all that impressive.”
“He was hot, okay? And it’s not like I was getting anywhere with guys on our team.”
Logan turned further to mirror my position and leaned in. “Did you want to?”
“No!” I pushed off the bed.
“But if you did, who would it be?”
“Stop! Seriously. I’m not—I’ve never been into any of the guys on the team. It was the invitational, and it was probably a full moon. It was a moment of weakness.”
“It’s not weakness to want to connect with someone.”
I set my almost-empty coffee down and pressed my hands to my hips. “Thank you, Dr. Kemp. Are we done now?”
He smirked. “I don’t know, are we? I think, as your current boyfriend—”
I jumped forward and pressed my hands against his mouth. “Can you not talk so loud?”
Logan grabbed my wrists and threw me to the bed. I gasped, landing with a bounce and accidentally pulling him with me. He fell forward with a grunt, his body curled over mine, that grin across his face.
It was no wonder that Shar fell for him. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled with those long lashes . . .
“I knew you were embarrassed by me.”
I tried to catch my breath, extremely aware of his hip pressed into mine. I was going to have to be very, very careful. Four events. Well, five, including the gallery opening, which I would’ve planned to attend anyway.
“There’s one other thing,” Logan said.
“I swear, if you say I have to touch your penis—”
He let out a guttural laugh. “That’s who I am, right?”
I slipped my hands from his and scooted back, moving out from under him. When I was free and clear, I sat cross-legged. Logan didn’t move. He leaned on his forearms, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed.
“I think you have to stop that,” I murmured. Logan didn’t answer, so I went on. “You made some really shitty mistakes when you were with Sharla. You apologized to her, right?”
He wet his lips and nodded.
“Cool. And I signed away four nights of your life and called your relationship judgment into question, so maybe we can just . . . I don’t know. Start over.”
Logan watched me. “You said it yourself. You and me. Not the same.”
“We’re not.” I fiddled with one of the ties on my quilt.
“But we’re not, not the same.” I hated to admit it, and I wasn’t making excuses for him, but I understood a little of what he might’ve experienced at Juniors.
When you had goals and ambitions and you had to make other people happy to get there—
“You know that girl in the photo?” Logan cleared his throat, dropping his eyes.
“The one in the school paper?”
He nodded, his hair falling over his forehead. “She was my coach’s daughter.” He let out a puff of air. “You’d think that meant I should’ve stayed away from her, but he treated her like a princess. She got whatever she wanted, and what she wanted . . . “
“Was you,” I finished.
Logan sniffed. “Yeah.” He drew a deep breath and rolled onto his back, resting his head on his arm. His fingers were inches from mine, and the urge to reach out and hold them was strong enough, I had to shove my hands in my armpits.
“The other girl, she kissed me. I was drunk. I knew I was being flirty, but I wasn’t planning to do anything. It just felt good to be liked, I guess. And I was lonely, away from Shar and all. And then she was on me, and I didn’t stop it right away.”
I wondered how many people he’d talked to about this. Considering he hadn’t spoken much to Rob and the guys, I was guessing not many. “What did Rob say to you?”
Logan sighed. “Rob kicked my ass. At practice. He told me to stop making excuses and own the hell up.” He lifted his free hand and ran it through his hair. “I miss them, you know? Rob, Shar, even Rory’s dumbass jokes. I torched all of that.”
Pressure built behind my eyes. “Yeah. I know. I miss them, too.”
Logan tilted his head to look back, but he couldn’t quite meet my eyes.
I shifted forward and swivelled so we could see each other. “You weren’t totally wrong about me losing my friends. They’re still my friends, but it isn’t the same.”
He considered this. “Is she happy?”
We both knew who he was talking about. “She’s stupidly happy. It’s pretty gross, actually.” Logan chuckled, and I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was relief or hurt. “Are you happy?”
He looked away, staring at the ceiling. “I’m an NHL player. I’m all successful and shit.” He shot me a look, and I laughed. He remembered that from the grocery store? “Of course I’m happy.”
“Well, good. Then I guess—”
The door to my room busted open. “Hey, do you know where—?” Jenna froze. She stared at Logan stretched out on the bed. “Um, Crystal? Why is Logan Kemp in your bedroom?”