Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Logan hadn’t just gotten us tickets. He’d gone full fairy godmother.
We didn’t realize it until we got to the Saddledome and the usher didn’t steer us toward the nosebleeds or the student-discount section, but up. Up the escalator, down a private hallway with framed jerseys and corporate logos, and straight into a glass-fronted luxury suite.
“Holy…” Rory stopped dead in the doorway. “We’re not supposed to be in here.”
“We’re ABSOLUTELY supposed to be in here,” Axel said, barging past him. “Look at this. There’s shrimp. And, holy shit, is that a meat carving station?”
It was. There was an entire table laid out with hot food.
Sliders, wings, nachos, pasta, three different dips I couldn’t identify but was likely to bathe in.
The other side was full of veggies, chips and candy, and had a cooler built into the counter that held more pop than a 7-Eleven.
There was a private bathroom off to the side, and big leather seats faced the ice in a row with a little ledge for plates and drinks.
“Crystal,” Maddie whispered, her eyes wide. “What did you do?”
“Her favours are better than mine!” Axel crowed, and Maddie smacked him for me.
Chase and Rob were already digging into the food behind Nick and Bear while Shar arranged Carter’s carrier beside one of the leather seats and tucked a blanket around him. The baby blinked sleepily, thoroughly unimpressed by his first NHL experience.
An attendant popped her head in. “Hi there, everyone—I’m Kelly. If you need anything, let me know. The food’s all yours, bar tab is covered, and we’ll replenish between periods.”
Axel stared at her like she’d just announced free tuition. “Hell, yes!”
When all the guys were stocked with food and drinks, we settled in and watched the players pour onto the ice for warmup. The crowd noise swelled, and as people stood I noticed a few people wearing Logan’s jersey.
For some reason, that kicked me in the gut. This was real. Logan was an NHL player. He’d made it all the way. It was one thing to see these guys on the ice on TV and another to have watched someone make their career happen right before your eyes.
Rory nudged me with his elbow. “This is wild.”
He was telling me.
Down on the ice, Logan skated a few hard laps, stretching out his stride, easy and smooth. He looked good. Loose, focused. He stopped at the blue line and dropped to the ice, spreading his knees wide and . . . holy hell. That was the stretch of all stretches.
The guys lost it. Cat calling and screaming Logan’s name.
“You know he’s doing that for us!” Axel slapped his knee.
I shook my head at Shar and Maddie. Rob pretended to be mature, but his eyes were starting to water, he was fighting a laugh so hard.
The lights dimmed, and the anthem singer came out. We all stood. I balanced my plate on the ledge, pressed one hand to the poppy still on my coat while the players lined up on the blue line with their helmets off, heads bowed.
When the opening faceoff dropped, the crowd went wild. Our group whooped and hollered when Logan appeared in the third shift.
“Look at his gap control,” Chase murmured. “He’s playing deeper. Smarter.”
Maddie nodded, completely in the zone. I didn’t know what all that meant, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Logan. No matter where the puck was, he was at the center of my vision.
Thirty seconds in, the other team chipped the puck out sloppily and tried to break out. Logan intercepted the pass at centre, pivoted hard, and without even looking, sent a perfect, saucered backhand to Rourke. Glove save ended the play but damn if that wasn’t impressive.
Later in the period, Logan was on the penalty kill for nearly forty seconds. Twice he poked pucks off sticks and then got a solid clear to earn the whole group a break.
Midway through the second, tied 1–1, Logan picked up speed through the neutral zone, took a pass just over the red line, and bulldozed past one defender at the blue line with a nasty little inside-out deke.
The second defender tried to angle him off, but Logan lowered his shoulder, protected the puck with his hip, and one-handed the puck across the crease to his teammate, who flicked it up over the goalie pads for a 2-1 lead.
Our suite went berserk.
I stared down at Logan as he went to the bench, tapping gloves with his teammates. I was on the phone with him last night. Every night this week actually. He was just a guy, but seeing him down there . . . It sparked something in my chest.
“That’s our boy!” Axel crowed.
I wanted to record every second of our suite experience for Logan so he could watch it later.
By the third period, the score hadn’t changed, and we were all on the edges of our seats when one of the Blizzard got a penalty for tripping.
“There he is!” Bear called as Logan came on the ice.
“They’re going to put him on the kill every game,” Chase said. “He reads it so well.”
I leaned into Shar. “You okay?” It was one thing to talk about Logan every once in a while. Another to have him dominate the conversation for the night.
She smiled at me. “So good. I’m really proud of him. He’s worked so hard for this.”
Rob slung an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close.
Okay. So they were better humans than I’d ever be. But I’d known that since the second Rob got up in front of the entire student body and proposed.
Still, a sliver of guilt wedged between my ribs. Shar was fine with all of this now because it was fun and games. But what if it were real? What if something did happen between me and Logan? Would she be fine with it then?
I banished the thought from my mind. Not something I needed to worry about because Logan and I were supposed to be just friends. Full stop.
I turned my attention fully to the game, and when the Blizzard won 3-1, I nearly screamed myself hoarse.
Logan got two assists and was named first star. When he skated out for the little lap, helmet off, hair damp, his name and stats on the Jumbotron, the crowd roared.
Axel scoffed. “He needs to stop showing off.”
After the post-game milling-around, we filed out of the suite. Kelly thanked us, we thanked her back, then apologized when Axel lifted her off the ground in a hug, and followed another staff member down to the player’s area.
Logan came through the doors into the tunnel with Rourke and a couple other guys, hair damp, black dress pants and a fitted long-sleeve shirt. He spotted us instantly. Hard to miss a group that included half the Outlaws and one baby held up like Simba wearing your team’s onesie.
He grinned. “Nice digs, eh?”
The guys mauled him. All I heard was “Best food of my life!” and “You took the ice’s virginity!”
But when Rob stepped forward with Carter, the entire hallway quieted.
“Good game, bud.” Rob said.
Logan seemed at a loss for words as he crouched and touched Carter’s hand. “Can’t believe this. He’s so cute.”
“Do you want to hold him?”
Logan’s face went white. “I don’t—I’ve never held a baby before.”
Rob pulled out his arm. “It’s a football, that’s it.” He set Carter into Logan’s cradle, and Logan’s eyes went wide.
“He feels like air.”
Shar laughed. “Not after four hours.”
Logan looked up and met her eyes. “You did good.”
“So did you.”
Rob grunted. “Except that shift in the second. Looked a little sleepy.”
Logan smirked. “You say that while I’m holding your son?”
The guys chatted for a few minutes. Reminiscing, hockey talk. Another moment that felt like a cozy blanket.
I was talking with Maddie when Logan appeared next to me. “Good day?”
I paused mid-sentence and turned. “I’ve had better.”
“Obviously.” Logan could barely contain his glee. “Did they do everything? Breakfast, lunch, and—”
“They did more than everything, and I can’t believe you put them up to that.” I was half aware of the eyes on me, but I couldn’t stop smiling. “That was probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”
“Yeah?” He glanced up to see if anyone heard it, brushing off his shoulder.
“Okay stop, forget I said anything.” I pretended to push him, but he caught my arm. My whole body went still.
“You had a good time?”
I nodded, blood rushing in my ears. “The best.”
He soaked that in, then dropped my wrist. “Okay. Good.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The air between us thickened, the noise from the conversation around us blending into a low hum.
“Yo, Kemp!” someone shouted, jarring me out of the moment.
Logan turned and held up a finger, then looked back at me. “You want to come out?”
A rope seemed to yank at my middle. Yes. I’d love to. “No, I have to pack. I’m heading home for the weekend. Helping with Christmas prep.”
Logan’s face fell. “Oh. I didn’t realize that was tomorrow.”
I nodded. “I’ll be back Sunday night.”
“Got it. Okay, well I’ll talk to you then.”
“Yep.”
He moved to give me hug at the same time I did, but with our height difference and my choice of angle, he ended up giving me a shoulder to the face.
“Geez, Crys—”
“I’m fine. I—”
Logan scooped me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me and holding tight. “Sorry.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I was surrounded by warmth and clean soap and strong arms. A sound I’d never made before slipped past my lips, and I snapped my mouth closed. When Logan released me and stepped back, his pupils were blown wide. His lips parted, a flush crawling up his neck.
I blinked and cleared my throat. “Okay. See you soon.”
He nodded, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Mmhmm.”
“Have a good night.”
Logan drew a quick breath, then turned and stalked back to join his teammates.
Maddie’s eyes were on me from across the tunnel, and I knew I was screwed before she even started to mouth, “That didn’t look fake!”