Chapter 38
ALEX
“You finally thawed. I can say that I’m finally happy that you did.”
I roll my eyes as I pour hot milk into a mug, wiggling my hand so it makes a heart on top of the latte.
“Logan has a way of making anyone thaw. Even me,” I say, placing the milk pitcher down on the counter and handing the latte to the woman in the hand-off area.
“With those eyes and that body… I’m sure he can,” Vicki says, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Can you stop objectifying my boyfriend for me? That’s my job,” I retort.
“Fair.”
I lean on the counter and nibble on some baby carrots I brought as a snack.
“Is Logan coming to visit you today?” she asks.
I nod. “He said he’s bringing a surprise with him. No idea what that means.”
“Maybe he’s coming in shirtless?” Vicki asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
I throw a carrot at her. “I said enough!”
“Come on, don’t pretend you wouldn’t love that,” she says, nudging my arm.
I take another mouthful of carrots.
“Of course I would,” I say around the bite.
“We’d make a lot more in tips if he worked back here in a tank top,” she says, fanning herself.
I flush as I think about Logan working behind the counter next to me in gym shorts and a tank top, brushing past me and giving me lingering looks from the register.
My stomach swirls with warmth as I think about it, but I try to snap myself out of it. It’s probably best not to let myself get distracted at work.
Logan isn’t going to be working here, and he certainly won’t be in his gym clothes.
It’s a fantasy.
“You guys gonna keep fantasizing about Alex’s boyfriend, or are you gonna serve the next customer?” Simon asks as he makes an iced matcha.
I put my hands up and walk back to the register, greeting the girls at the counter with a wide smile.
A few minutes pass, and I keep checking my watch, expecting it to somehow tell me when Logan will come in.
Just as I start to wonder, the bell tinkles, and I watch as Logan walks in—with at least half of the Hornets football team.
My jaw drops, and I stifle a laugh as a horde of muscular, towering men squeeze through the cafe door, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and wonder.
Logan gives me a wide grin as his eyes meet mine.
My chest swells as he approaches me, running a hand through his wavy locks.
“Hope you don’t mind that I brought company,” Logan says, smiling down at me.
A few familiar faces walk behind Logan, while most of the football team stays near the entrance, looking around the cafe like they’ve stepped into a candy shop.
Callum and Kai flank Logan.
“Did he rope you all into this?” I ask Callum and Kai.
Callum nods. “He practically begged us all to.”
Kai snorts. “And he said we all have to tip well if we get something.”
I look at Logan, whose smile is still focused on me.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “I just wanted them to support the business, and you. This place changed my life for the better. Maybe it could do the same for them.”
I feel weightless at the way Logan says I had such an impact on his life.
“I made sure to let Joel, Travis, and anyone else who has a problem with us know that they weren’t invited,” Logan says.
A loud whoop comes from one of the players near the front of the cafe.
Simon brushes up next to me, his face scrunched in annoyance.
“Sorry, but could you ask your crew to calm down a bit? There are a lot of people here trying to study or read,” he says.
Kai smirks and approaches Simon.
“Simon Says… he doesn’t want our business.”
Simon frowns. “Shut up, Kai. And no, I just want you all to act appropriately.”
“He sounds just like Mason,” Callum says, smiling at Logan and Kai.
Kai nods, glancing at Callum before looking back at Simon.
He leans on the counter, fixing Simon with a smirk.
“They might listen, but I won’t.”
Simon’s eyes bulge, and he swallows hard, taking a step back from Kai.
“Whatever. Just make sure you all buy something.”
“Or what? You gonna tell on Isaac?” Kai goads.
Simon groans. “Whatever.”
He runs a hand through his hair and goes back to making drinks as if Kai hadn’t just completely disrupted his flow.
“I didn’t know you knew Simon like that,” I say to Kai.
Kai snorts. “I’ve known that twerp my whole life.”
“So, are you guys gonna order or what?” I ask, not even bothering to look at anyone but Logan.
“I’ll get a lemon square and a pumpkin spice latte,” Logan says, his cheeks slightly pink.
“A what?” Callum asks, frowning.
“A pumpkin spice latte. You’ve never heard of that?” Logan asks.
Callum shakes his head.
“You haven’t lived life, man,” Logan says, smacking him on the back.
Callum snorts. “I’ll just get a chocolate croissant, thanks.”
“Get me a lemon square. I need to know what all the hype is about,” Kai says, peering into the pastry case.
Eventually, I work my way through nearly the entire football team’s orders. Most of them only get something to eat, but a few order drinks too.
I keep looking over at Logan, who smiles at me from the corner, watching closely to make sure all of his old teammates are being nice to me.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” Kai raves.
Logan palms his face, and Kai just laughs at him.
Satisfied murmurs ripple across the cafe as each player eats their pastry or takes a sip of their drink.
Mission accomplished.
Callum rounds up all of the players after they've gotten their sustenance.
“Time to head off, boys. Say thank you to the man behind the register.”
A cacophony of thank-yous booms from the entrance, almost startling me as their attention lands on me.
Logan bids them all goodbye, and they leave the cafe like a stampede, with Callum leading the charge.
“Thank God,” Simon mutters under his breath.
“Hey, they all tipped us well,” I counter.
Simon shakes his head.
“They’re too loud for my taste. If they come back, I hope they do it in smaller packs.”
Logan approaches the counter.
I lift an eyebrow as he looks at me expectantly.
“Come back for round two?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
“No, I, uh... I was wondering if you still wanted me to cook dinner tonight. I know I mentioned it before, but you didn’t necessarily agree—”
“No, I’d love that, Logan. Naomi was practically levitating off the ground when I told her she’d be seeing you tonight.”
Logan snorts.
“I can picture it already. Does she or your mom have any allergies or anything like that?”
“No, you’re all good. I hate not knowing what you’re going to make, but I’m putting my full trust in you.”
Logan nods.
“You’re going to have to do a lot more of that.”
I sigh.
“I know.”
It’s a small thing, but I still like having control over my life. Somehow, though, it’s easy to relinquish it to Logan. He makes everything feel easier, even when life can seem so quick to spin out of control.
Logan knocks on the counter.
“Alright, so I’ll see you at your place around six?”
I nod.
“Sounds good.”
Logan leans forward, his hairy forearms bulging as veins snake down his arms. I want to reach out and grab him, but I settle for a quick peck instead.
Our lips meet, and I immediately want to pull him over the counter and drag him into the kitchen so we can press ourselves together away from prying eyes. But I’m at work, and I know better.
When he pulls away, he gives me a heated look before whispering goodbye and leaving the cafe.
I puff out a long breath.
Logan is going to cook for my family and me.
I can let him in. I can do this.
I keep looking over my shoulder. I can’t fully focus on my homework at the dining room table with Logan in the kitchen doing God knows what.
I’m waiting for the smoke alarm to go off or for him to cut himself.
It’s not that I think Logan can’t cook or take care of himself, but I can’t help monitoring him anyway.
“Alex.”
I snap my head back to my computer, pretending I haven’t been watching him.
“Yeah?” I ask, squinting at the screen to make it look like I’m completely absorbed in my work.
“Part of me cooking is you letting yourself do your homework.”
He’s smirking at me, wearing the floral apron my mom lent him while stirring something in a boiling saucepan.
I shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been working this whole time.”
“Ace.”
I close my eyes.
“Fine. I’m just nervous, okay? It’s your first time cooking dinner for my family. I’m not a critic, but they might be, Lo-Lo.”
Logan snorts.
“Naomi is ten, and your mom loves me. You really think I’m going to cause mayhem by making soup?”
I tilt my head, trying to get a better look at what he’s making, but Logan steps in front of the pot and crosses his arms.
I shake my head.
“I guess not,” I mumble.
Logan turns the stove knob down, leaving the soup to simmer before walking over and placing his hands on my shoulders.
“Relax, babe. It’s just one dinner. The first one,” he whispers in my ear as he massages my shoulders.
I lean into his touch, wishing he’d keep doing it forever. I don’t want to focus on my homework, worry about my mom, or wonder what Logan’s making. I just want his hands on me so I can unplug from the rest of the world for a little while.
I nod.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Logan kisses the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Don’t apologize. I’m here to help you, remember?”
He gives my shoulders one last squeeze before returning to the stove and stirring the saucepan a few more times.
I watch him slather some kind of green mixture onto slices of bread.
The smell of ginger and garlic drifts through the kitchen. I bite back the question sitting on the tip of my tongue about what else he’s making and force myself to write a few hundred words before Logan starts ladling soup into bowls.
“Soup’s on!” Logan calls.
My heart flutters as I watch him cup his hands around his mouth to yell it.
A second later, I hear quick footsteps pounding down the stairs, and I brace for impact.
As expected, Naomi comes flying into the kitchen, practically levitating.
“I’m ready!” she yells, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited for dinner,” I comment, closing my laptop and putting it in my backpack.