Chapter 32
LOGAN
The library isn’t really my scene. Never has been.
It’s too damn quiet, too sterile, and reeks of dust.
Still, I’ve been camped here all afternoon, pretending to care about the paper due next week. Anything’s better than sitting in my room, hearing him in the hallway or kitchen, so that we don’t cross paths. I’d rather be here than stare at my door, wondering—hoping—if he’ll knock on my door.
I drag a hand down my face, rubbing at my eyes. They sting from staring at the blank document on my laptop. The Psychology of Motivation. Real funny since I haven’t been motivated to do anything except stew in my own misery since Nathan walked out. Or since I let him walk out.
It’s been three days. Three days since I poured out every ugly, raw part of myself I usually keep locked down, and he just… gave up.
Three days, and I still can’t decide if it hurts more that he left or that I let myself think he wouldn’t.
I lean back in my chair, the cheap wood groaning under my weight, and I try to focus on this damn paper, but it’s no use.
I see him everywhere. I have his body memorized.
The little line between his brows when he’s thinking, the sound of his laugh, the way he looks at me when it’s just the two of us.
I scroll through my playlist, searching for something to drown out the memory of his mouth on my neck, his pinky hooking with mine, and the sound he makes when I kiss him under his ear.
I mutter a curse and snap the laptop shut, the noise earning me a glare from a girl across the aisle. I mouth a silent sorry, and rake a hand through my hair.
God, I hate this.
I hate that I let myself believe we could ever be more than what we were. I told myself it was just a hookup. That we were just messing around, having fun while helping him explore his sexuality. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings, and I sure as hell wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him.
And now here I am, with my heart shattered.
“Logan?”
My head jerks up, my heartbeat stuttering in my chest. For a second I think it’s him, and I actually catch myself hoping. But it’s not.
It’s Trevor, standing at my table with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
He’s a football player. I know, I know—cue the horror. Hockey guys aren’t supposed to fraternize with the enemy, let alone hook up with one. But last year, I did. More than once, if we’re being honest. Back then, it was easy. No strings, no feelings.
I didn’t realize how different that was from what I had with Nathan until now.
“Trevor,” I say, lifting my brows. “Long time.”
“Guess so.” He swings his backpack off his shoulder and drops it onto the chair across from me. “Didn’t really expect to see you here.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, well. That makes both of us.”
His eyes flick over me. “You look… rough.”
I snort. “Thanks, man. Real confidence boost.”
“Just saying.” His grin tilts sideways. “I’ve seen you after practice, drenched in sweat, and you looked better than this.”
“Wow.” My brow quirks. “Didn’t know I had a fan club.”
“You always did.” His tone makes it clear he’s not just talking about my hockey skills.
He grins and just like that, we’re back in old territory. Bullshitting about classes, party stories, people we both know.
But then he glances at my mouth instead of my eyes, and he leans a little closer over the table.
I know that look. I’ve worn that look.
He’s flirting.
And once, that would’ve been the cue for a little distraction. Now, it just makes everything inside me go tight.
He tilts his head, lowering his voice. “Alright, what’s going on? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
I consider blowing it off. I could make a joke, say I’m allergic to studying, but my throat aches from swallowing all of this down.
“It’s nothing. It’s stupid, honestly,” I mutter with a shake of my head.
He shrugs. “I’ve got time,” he says, shooting me a teasing grin. “I love procrastinating.”
I huff out a laugh, leaning back in my chair. “I was, um… seeing someone.” I lift my eyes to his, seeing the surprise in them. “Kind of. Not officially. But it blew up.”
His eyebrows lift. “Let me guess. Athlete?”
I snort. “That obvious?”
He shrugs. “You have a type, man.” His brows dip. “So what happened?”
I drag a hand through my hair. It all feels too big for words, but I force myself to get it out.
“I liked him. More than I should’ve let myself.
And he’s… not ready to come out. He doesn’t want anyone to know about us.
” I feel my throat go tight. “I thought I could handle it, but—” My voice catches.
I shake my head, looking anywhere but at him.
“I can’t. I hate hiding. I hate feeling like I’m someone’s dirty secret. ”
Trevor nods. “Yeah. I’ve been there. But for what it’s worth? Just because he’s not ready now doesn’t mean he won’t ever be. Everyone’s got their own timeline. Took me hooking up with you, actually, to finally admit my shit and come out to my folks.”
That drags a startled laugh out of me, and I rub the back of my neck. “Glad I could be your… awakening, I guess.”
He smirks, cocking his head. “Are you in love with him?”
I go still, because I haven’t said it out loud. I’ve known for a few weeks, felt it deep in my bones whenever he looked at me, but I never got the chance to tell him.
“Yeah,” I say, letting out a laugh. “Yeah, I am.”
Trevor’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised by my confession, and I understand why he would be. I’ve never been the kind of guy who wanted commitment. But Nathan Hayes changed me.
He leans back, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So, what you’re telling me is there’s no chance of another hookup?”
I snort and roll my eyes, some of the heaviness breaking apart. “Afraid my cock only works for one guy now. Sorry to disappoint.”
Trevor clicks his tongue, mock disappointment flashing across his face. “Bummer.” He stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder again. “For real, though. I hope it works out between you guys. You’re a good guy, Gray. And also great in bed.”
That makes me chuckle despite everything, and I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “Thanks, man.”
He grins, gives me a little two-finger salute, then heads off.
I watch him go, my chest still heavy but somehow lighter, too. Like saying all the shit brewing in my head out loud chipped away at the worst of it.
Just because he’s not ready now doesn’t mean he won’t ever be.
I let those words repeat themselves over and over in my head as I open my laptop again, the words blurring on the screen.
Because even though I keep telling myself it’s time to move on, the truth is, there’s only ever been one person I want. One person I’ve loved.
And even though it’ll hurt like hell if he never chooses me, I’ll wait for him for however long it takes, because he’s it for me, and I’m not done hoping for a happily-ever-after for us.