Chapter 11 Logan
LOGAN
Iaim, flick my wrist, and the dart hits clean, right on the edge of the bullseye.
Austin lets out a groan, tipping his head back. “Every damn time,” he mutters, shooting me a glare.
I grin, lifting my shoulder in a shrug. “Not my fault you suck.”
That earns me an eye roll and a middle finger before he grabs another dart. “One more round. Double or nothing.”
“Dude,” Ryan calls from the couch, his arm slung over Isabella. “He’s beaten you three times. Give it up before you embarrass yourself further.”
Austin ignores him completely. “Freckles,” he says, glancing at Maisie. “Back me up here. Tell him that was purely a lucky shot.”
Maisie hides a smile behind her drink. “I don’t know. Looked more like skill to me.”
He narrows his eyes slightly. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am,” she says, her blue eyes glinting. “Just not when you’re wrong.”
Ryan snorts from the couch. “So… always?”
Austin shoots him a glare. “You know what, screw you guys.”
I grab another dart, narrowing my eyes at the board and throw… except it lands out of bounds.
Austin laughs, his stupid cocky smirk widening. “That’s what you get for talking shit.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “One missed shot doesn’t make you good, Rhodes.”
Austin leans over the table again, lining up his shot. “You sure you’re not cheating, rookie?”
“Still calling me that?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “After I’ve beaten your ass three rounds in a row?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he replies with a shrug. “Once a rookie—”
“—always a rookie,” I finish for him. “Yeah, yeah. Heard it.”
He smirks. “Good. I’d hate for you to forget.”
I grab the last dart, aiming carefully, determined to shut him up. But the second it leaves my hand, I know it’s off. It hits the wall with a sad little clink and falls straight to the floor.
Fuck.
Austin whoops so loud the music can’t drown him out. “Hell yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”
Maisie laughs from the couch. “You beat him by two points.”
Austin grins, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. “Details. Don’t ruin my moment.”
She tilts her head. “Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check.”
He laughs, leaning down to kiss her cheek before turning back to the table. “God, I love her.”
“Yeah, we know,” Ryan replies with an amused smile on his face.
I shake my head, watching them. They’re ridiculous. And disgustingly in love. And if I didn’t like Maisie so much, I’d probably make fun of him for it. But she makes him so fucking happy, and I can tell he does the same for her. So I lay off the jokes.
The music cuts between tracks, and that’s when I hear the opening guitar riff of Mr. Brightside.
Austin freezes, his eyes going wide.
“No,” Maisie says immediately, cutting him off before he can even open his mouth. “Absolutely not.”
Austin turns toward her, a grin already spreading across his face. “Come on, Freckles. Sing it with me.”
She blushes instantly, shaking her head, which makes her hair slip forward around her shoulders. “I’m not getting up there and singing in front of people.”
“Why not? You know every word.”
“Yeah, and I plan to keep it that way… in private.”
Austin laughs, shaking his head, clearly not deterred. He glances around the table like a man on a mission, his eyes scanning for the next victim.
They land on me and I shake my head immediately. “Not fucking happening, bud.”
He pouts, then turns toward Ryan. “Reed?” he asks, doing that creepy eyelash flutter thing that I fucking hate.
Ryan doesn’t even glance up from his beer. “Not a chance.”
Austin sighs, then lets his gaze slide toward Isabella. “Baby Hayes?”
She laughs, shaking her head at the stupid nickname, then pushes herself off Ryan’s lap and grabs her drink. “You know what?” She shrugs. “Screw it. Why not?”
Austin cheers, pumping his fist in the air. “You’re my favorite Hayes, you know that?”
Isabella rolls her eyes but she’s smiling as they head toward the small stage setup in the corner of the bar.
It’s not even a real stage, just a corner cleared out for karaoke nights and some cheap fairy lights strung up over the mic stand.
Austin flashes Maisie a wink before he grabs the mic, already buzzing with way too much confidence.
Maisie groans, covering her face with one hand, but I catch the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She’s pink-cheeked, pretending to be embarrassed, but I can tell she’s watching him like he hung the damn moon.
The music starts and Austin’s voice follows immediately. Loud and so fucking off-key it’s hilarious.
Isabella laughs and joins in, her voice just as bad but at least she’s clearly having fun. When he spins her during the chorus, the whole bar cheers. People start clapping along and taking out their phones to record them.
Maisie’s laughing, shaking her head at her boyfriend up there. “He’s going to lose his voice.”
Ryan snorts, leaning back with his beer. “Good. Might get some peace and quiet for once.”
I can’t help but grin, watching them, both of them completely tone-deaf and somehow owning it.
I take another sip of my drink. Nights like this are supposed to feel easy. Loud music, too many drinks, your friends making idiots of themselves on stage.
And mostly, it does.
Except for the part where I keep glancing toward the door.
I scan the room again, that stupid drop of disappointment settling in my chest when I still don’t see him here.
I edge a little closer to Ryan, lowering my voice. “Psst. You seen Hayes?”
Ryan doesn’t look away from the trainwreck on stage. “Didn’t come,” he says over the noise. “He said he needed rest.”
I nod slowly, pretending that makes sense.
Rest.
Bullshit.
He’s been dodging me all week.
Ever since the locker room.
Ever since I touched him and he—
I take a sip of my drink, the alcohol burning a little on the way down. Not enough to distract me, clearly, because the memory plays in my head again.
The way he tensed under my hands. The way he flinched when he realized I’d noticed. The way I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
I drag a hand through my hair, scanning the room for something—anything—to pull me out of my head.
My gaze lands on the pool table across the bar where Aurora is bent over the felt, lining up a shot, her ass in the air and that trademark death-glare in her eyes.
And standing right behind her is Cole, his tattooed arm braced on the table next to hers, whispering something in her ear, one hand sliding to her waist.
My brows shoot up.
Well… that’s new.
I linger longer than I should, waiting for her to elbow him or stab him with the cue. But she doesn’t. Just tilts her head a fraction and listens.
I huff out a laugh under my breath.
Maybe hell really did freeze over and those two sorted their shit out.
I push myself onto my feet and make my way toward the bar, weaving through the crowd. I quickly ask the bartender for another beer, then turn to wait.
I catch a flash of blonde hair and glance down as a girl sidles up next to me. “You’re Logan, right?” she says with a smile I know all too well is flirty as hell.
“In the flesh.”
“I’ve seen you play,” she says, her smile widening. “You’re, like… really fast.”
I rest an elbow on the bar, a grin sliding into place. “That’s not what they usually say.”
She laughs, leaning in a little, and I should be reveling in this shit, giving her my number or asking for hers, but my focus is already slipping. My brain’s still buzzing, restless, chasing something else entirely.
My eyes drift toward the door once again, but this time I freeze.
Because it’s not empty like it’s been for the last ten times. This time, the guy I’ve been looking for all night is standing right there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Oh, come on.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I’ve spent the entire damn week trying not to think about him, and he shows up looking like that? In a leather jacket of all things? The universe is fucking with me, it has to be.
Leather jackets are my weakness. And Nathan is wearing one over a white T-shirt that fits him like it was custom-made, making him look straight up illegal.
A beer gets set in front of me, breaking my trance for half a second. I don’t even look at it. I don’t look at the girl I’ve been talking to, either. No way I’m taking my eyes off him. With my luck, he’ll vanish again and I’ll spend the rest of the night staring at an empty doorway like an idiot.
I turn back to the girl beside me. “Hey—sorry. Think we can pick this up later?”
She blinks, confused, but I’m already stepping away, my attention glued on him.
“Hayes!” I call, cutting through a crowd of people until I catch up to him near the back hallway where it’s quieter, the sound of Austin’s shitty singing fading into a low hum.
He lifts his head and his shoulders tense as soon as he sees me. “Logan.”
“You came,” I say, because apparently that’s all my brain can come up with.
He shrugs, his eyes darting past me. “Being home alone was boring.”
I nod once, shifting my weight. Normally, this is the part where I’d joke, say something stupid that would make him roll his eyes, but the words won’t come.
All I can think about is that moment in the locker room.
The way his muscles had gone tight under my hands, his cock twitching under his boxers, and the way he’d jerked back like he’d been burned.
Now, standing in front of him, it feels like the air between us is wired, like one wrong move will set it off again.
“We should talk,” I say.
Nathan tenses, the little dip on his temple twitching. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he mutters, trying to sidestep me.
“Nathan.” I move without thinking, blocking his path. “It didn’t mean anything. Okay?”
He freezes, eyes flicking to mine, panic swirling in his gaze.
“We don’t need to make it a big deal,” I continue.
“What happened in the locker room. It—” I blow out a breath, drag a hand through my hair.
“It was just a reaction. Happens to everyone. Pressure, touch, whatever.” I force out a laugh.
“We’ve all… gotten hard during massages. Doesn’t mean anything.”
His ears go pink. Mine probably match.
“Besides,” I add with a smirk, “everyone gets turned on by me.”
There’s a flicker at the corner of his mouth and half a laugh that doesn’t quite make it out.
“Just…” I swallow, my brows pulling together. “Don’t avoid me, alright? I—fuck. I don’t like it.”
He blinks, those dark brown eyes making it impossible to fucking think.
“I want you to roll your eyes and call me annoying,” I continue, because I like having his eyes on me and I don’t want to stop speaking if it means he’ll glance away.
“I want you giving me shit when I’m late to practice.
I want—” I stop, rub a hand over my jaw, searching for words that don’t sound pathetic.
“I just want things to be normal between us again.”
He looks at me for a long time, long enough that I start to regret saying anything at all.
“It was just a reaction,” I say again, shrugging. “Doesn’t mean you’re gay.”
The silence stretches between us as I keep my eyes on him, still silent, still watching me with that tense look on his face.
“Right?” I ask, my heart knocking against my chest the longer he doesn’t speak.
Finally, Nathan swallows and nods once. “Right.”
I nod too, because… yep. Exactly as I thought. This is good. Great, even.
Except my chest feels tight, and I’m wondering why the fuck I’m standing here hoping he would give me a different answer.
I force a grin and elbow him lightly. “Permission to make a dick joke?”
Nathan huffs out a quiet laugh. “You’re an idiot.”
I smile as we make our way toward the other guys, happy that we got past the awkward shit and balance is restored.
Sort of.
I follow him, the sound of Austin’s voice getting louder as we approach him.
Isabella’s not on stage with him anymore, though. He has an arm looped around Maisie’s waist as they sing Right Here, Right Now from High School Musical.
I loved those movies growing up, so hell yeah, I recognize it immediately.
I may or may not have tried to learn a few of the dance routines.
We don’t need to unpack that.
Maisie’s shaking her head, blushing like crazy, but her boyfriend’s not the least bit embarrassed as he practically serenades his girlfriend on stage.
“Poor girl,” I say, dropping onto the chair next to Ryan. “He roped her into singing with him.”
Ryan lets out a scoff. “She’s smiling like crazy.”
“She’s embarrassed,” I insist, nodding toward the stage. “That is a please-for-the-love-of-God-make-him-stop smile.”
Ryan laughs under his breath, keeping his eyes on them. “That’s her I’m-in-love-with-him smile.”
I look back up just in time to see Austin spin her in a wide circle, nearly knocking over the mic stand.
Maisie squeals, laughing so hard she can’t keep up with the lyrics.
Austin doesn’t care. He’s looking at her as if she’s the only person in the room, like he’d make an idiot of himself a thousand times over just to keep that laugh on her face.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a love like that before.
Maisie’s bright red, giggling, and when the song ends, Austin takes a bow. Then, because he has zero sense of boundaries, he snakes a hand into her hair and kisses her—with tongue, by the way, which I can clearly fucking see from here.
Beside me, Nathan chuckles.
I lift my head at the sound and watch his shoulders relax and his lips tilt into a soft smile.
I look at him for a second too long, and of course he notices.
“What?” he asks, one brow lifting.
“Nothing,” I say, holding my hands up. “Just surprised you’re capable of joy.”
He rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”
“Oh, I know,” I say, placing my hand on my chest. “Thank you.”
He chuckles, but holds my gaze and neither of us look away.
It’s only for a few seconds, maybe even less, but it doesn’t stop my brain from heading somewhere it shouldn’t. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on with me, but these stupid thoughts I keep having about this guy need to stop.
I look away first and grab Austin’s beer, downing it, desperate for the alcohol to cut through whatever the hell that feeling was.
He’s straight.
End of story.
Time to get that through my thick skull.