Chapter 34 #2
He laughs, then shakes his head while his tongue pokes at his cheek.
“Well, it should be yours, apparently.” My confusion must be written on my face, because his smile turns into more of a cheeky grin before he elaborates.
“Someone high up with this contest works pretty closely with a manga publisher in Japan. He asked for permission to send the one-shot to one of their editors, and…long story short: The publisher wanted to know if I was looking to do this professionally. They offered to kinda pull me into their artist community to work under a mangaka as an assistant. And it’d give me an open door to hopefully publish my own work too, with the help of a translator.
” Another laugh slips out while he reaches around to rub the back of his neck.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. I know that’s a lot of confusing information, but—”
“Hey, don’t ever apologize for being excited about something like this,” I say, shaking my head. “I might not understand it, but I know this is important to you. That’s all that matters.”
In truth, I’ve never been more proud of him for doing what I knew he could all along, for finding a path to something that really, truly belongs to him. His own legacy.
I just hate knowing it’s about to send him halfway around the world.
His teeth sink into his lower lip, gnawing at it while he nods. “Well, I hope you know, I couldn’t have done it without you believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”
The statement is meant to be one of gratitude, but it’s bittersweet at best, the way it punches me in the chest and steals the air from my lungs.
“I think you’re giving me far too much credit,” I manage, the words ground out over shattered glass, even after clearing my throat.
“Except I’m not. Not even fucking close, actually,” he insists.
His eyes soften, becoming more somber, tainted with sadness around the edges.
“You know, after the wedding and everything that happened between us, I was still so lost. Maybe even more than before, which is probably why I was so tempted to give up and start being realistic, despite the promise I made you. But every single time I thought about burning the sketchbooks or becoming a super senior because of switching majors, there was this tiny voice in the back of my head that wouldn’t let me. Your voice.”
The last couple words waver as they come out, and it nearly severs what little resolve I have left.
Almost has me reaching out, ready to pull him into my arms and offer him comfort the way I have so many times before.
The same way he has for me in return. But I fight it—fight the instinct that’s become nearly as automatic as breathing—and wait for him to continue.
“And I don’t think it was the promise that stopped me from going through with it.
I think it’s because you’re so many things I want to be.
You’re the one who taught me what resilience looks like, what it truly means to dedicate yourself to going after a dream.
To not let anyone or anything stop you from going after what you want, saying fuck the odds.
So I took a leap of faith and did what you said.
” He smiles and gestures to the sketchbook in my hand.
“You’re the reason for this, Cam. You’re the reason for all of it. ”
I blink rapidly, and glance away as some distorted sort of smile pulls at my lips. Because the feelings inside me are just like the night of the rehearsal dinner, and I’m doing my best to not break down like that all over again.
“I’m just… I’m really fucking happy for you, Lo. You deserve all this and so much more.” Clearing my throat, I manage to ask the question I’ve been avoiding since the word Japan spilled from his lips. “Do you get to finish school before you move, at least?”
“Yeah, since I only have one semest—” His words cut off abruptly, his brows drawing together before asking, “What do you mean move?”
“To Japan. For the job with the publisher.”
“I’m not moving,” he says slowly.
A mixture of a laugh and a cough slips out, and I shake my head. “I don’t understand. If the publisher is over there, then—”
“Just because the publisher is in Japan doesn’t mean I need to be. Yeah, I’m gonna have to keep some weird hours sometimes, especially since the editor is over there, but…” He trails off, shrugging sheepishly, and I crack a bit of a smile.
“Yeah, that’s not really new, is it?”
“No, not at all.”
There’s a beat of silence before I find myself searching for confirmation. “So you’re not going to Japan?”
He bobs his head back and forth, a little smirk forming. “I mean, maybe to visit one day, but not to live. I’d much rather stay in Chicago. With you, if you’ll have me. No expiration date.”
The world tilts on its axis, those last three words registering in my brain and instantly causing my chest to swell. It might be the dumbest thing my goddamn heart could do, but I can’t stop it from happening anymore than I can stop myself from loving him.
Yet, doubt creeps in, refusing to let me believe this is actually what he wants.
Wetting my lips, I murmur, “But if I get traded, then—”
“I’d go with you.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want, though? I mean—”
“Cam, I’ve never been more sure about anything,” he cuts in again, smiling now.
“And as much as I hate to say it, you were right. I needed the space to find out what Logan wanted, away from all the things attached to being a Reed. And now that I’ve found it—or at least found the path I want to take—I’m certain the only thing missing is you. ”
“Yeah?”
He nods. “Yeah, baby. So if being with you means a life surrounded by hockey after all? Sketching in the stands like I’ve already spent my entire life doing? Well, so fucking be it.”
My heart squeezes, but this time, it’s not out of pain and fear; it’s because I’m feeling so much joy, it can barely be contained in an organ the size of my fist. And it’s the very reason I drop my bag to the floor and set the sketchbook on top of it.
“You’d be in a box with all the WAGs, actually,” I rasp, and he frowns.
“WAGs?”
“Wives and girlfriends. It’s the nickname for all the players’ significant others. Though, I think it’s time they come up with a more inclusive acronym once you’re up there with them.”
His eyes shimmer with so much emotion—the kind of joy and happiness I’ve always craved to see on him.
“Does that mean—”
I silence him with a kiss, answering his question before it can finish leaving his lips.
But I don’t stop there, sliding my hands down to the underside of his ass and lifting him into my arms. He clings to me on instinct, wrapping his legs around my hips and slipping his fingers into my hair when I turn and press him back into the wall.
And then I kiss him with everything I am, with everything I know we can be. Everything we fucking will be, because there’s nothing standing in our way anymore. No pride, no fear. No doubt or insecurities. No fake dating schemes or circumstances seeming too insurmountable to tackle.
Out of nowhere, a wolf whistle fills the hallway, causing the two of us to break for air. I immediately glance toward the sound, only to find Sully passing by us, grinning at me like the cat that ate the pigeon—or however that saying goes.
“Damn, Rook. At least find a door that locks if you’re gonna maul him like that in public. We don’t need you getting arrested for public indecency.”
Grinning, I flip Old Man the bird before pressing my lips back to Logan’s, this time in a gentle, sweeping kiss. One full of more love and happiness than I could even begin to describe.
Logan is the first to pull away this time, staring down at me with a small smile before resting his forehead against mine.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much, baby.”
A wave of guilt courses through me, and I swallow. “I’m sorry for ending things at the wedding. For hurting you. I hope you know I didn’t want to, I just didn’t see a way—”
He kisses me again, cutting the words off, before speaking against my lips. “No apologies. I think we’ve had enough of those for a lifetime.”
Despite still feeling a bit guilty, I nod in agreement before taking a second to relish this closeness, this hope, this love flowing between our bodies. It’s only when I kiss him again, unable to stop myself, that I realize Logan is probably the gift Oakley was talking about.
Guess the habit of gifting a person to someone doesn’t just extend to Quinton.
Not that I’ll complain. Having Logan back in my arms is the greatest gift anyone could give me.
“Do you have class tomorrow?” I pause, doing some mental calendar math with the dates, before asking, “Wait, it’s gotta be close to finals, right?”
“Yeah. I took them earlier this week. I’m done until next semester.”
“Thank God. Saves me from convincing you to skip out after I keep you up all night,” I murmur, rolling my hips against his for good measure.
He laughs, his head falling back against the wall. “Eh, I’m sure I could’ve paid someone to take them for me.”
“How scandalous of you, Little Reed,” I tease, aiming a knowing smirk at him.
“Yeah, well, I learned from the best.”
His grin damn near stops my heart, and I can’t stop myself from leaning in and kissing him again. And then again after that, just because I can.
Because he’s finally mine.
“I thought you had a plane to catch,” he muses when I start getting a little carried away, trailing my lips over every inch of his perfect face.
“Unfortunately, I do.”
The reminder is enough to break the spell, and I lower him back to the floor.
I don’t let him out of my hold, though, dropping my forehead to his again while keeping him pinned against the wall.
My fingers skate over his cheekbone, then his jaw and neck—all the places I want to keep kissing him—as I revel in the feel of his skin against mine.
I want to feel more of it. Fucking every inch of it, actually, and it’s making it really difficult to find a locked door like Sully suggested.
“How long are you staying with your brother?”
“I’m just here for the day. I’ll be on the last flight out tonight.”
He really did come just for me.
The thought has me wanting to kiss him all over again, but I resist the urge, instead asking for what I really want.
“Will you come to my place after you land? I’ll text you the address.”
He nods, but there’s a sinister little smirk on his lips. “Does that mean you’re unblocking me now?”
I let out a pained laugh before groaning. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that, don’t I?”
“You were protecting yourself. I understand. Just don’t do it again.”
“Never. I promise.”
Tilting his chin up with my thumb, I find myself losing my battle of wills by kissing him again to seal the promise. Of course, kissing him like this while he’s backed against the cool cement wall only brings my thoughts back to devouring him in a freaking utility closet or something.
But he was right: I can’t miss my flight, so I somehow find the strength to extricate myself from him long enough to gather my things.
I grab his hand, and together, we head out the back of the arena to where the charter coach is waiting.
From how filled the cargo holds are, I have a good feeling I’m one of the last ones to get on board, which might not be the best move after my first game with the Blaze, but I don’t have it in me to care.
Well, maybe just a little bit.
“You’ll let me know when you land?”
“Of course,” I murmur. “Same goes for you, all right?”
He nods before rising up and pressing a final kiss to my lips, then another quick one to my jaw before finally allowing me to toss my bag into the cargo hold and head onto the bus.
I drop down into the seat behind Sully, only for our captain to glance at me over the backrest with suspicion.
“Consorting with the brother of the enemy on your first game, are you?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Oakley Reed may be a Knight, but how quickly you forget Travis Reed played for the Blaze, Old Man.”
“I don’t know,” he says, though I can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “Still a little too close for comfort, Rook.”
“Well, that’s too goddamn bad for you, because he’s not going anywhere.”
Never fucking again.
Sully’s quiet for a second, his lips pursed in thought, before he asks, “They don’t have a sister, do they?”
“Nope, sure don’t.”
Instead of answering, he just huffs out a sigh and turns around, facing the front of the bus again. A little chuckle escapes me at his very quick and obvious change of heart while I pull out my phone and quickly do the one thing I promised Logan I’d do: unblock him.
With that out of the way, I quickly type out the address to my apartment back in Chicago and hit send, only to write out a second text and send that one too.
Me: See you when you get home.
I glance out the window, vaguely hearing Sully ask something about a cousin, but I don’t actually hear what he says. I’m too busy watching Logan smirking at his phone while he types out his own response, only for it to pop up a second later on my screen.
Logan: Look at that! He did unblock me after all.
My throat catches as I swallow, a little laugh coming out as I type my three-word reply.
Me: I love you.
Moving my gaze out the window again, I expect to find him looking at his phone, but instead he’s staring right at me. My favorite smile pulls at his lips as he lifts his phone to his mouth and speaks, and I don’t even have to listen to the voice message that pops up to know what it says.
“I love you too. See you soon, baby.”