Chapter 8
eight
BLAIR
Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod.
Why? Why did I just pretend I don’t know Logan?
How is that going to fix anything? And why did he seem so angry with me?
It’s not like I lied about who I was or even went out of my way to talk to him at the club.
He approached me. He bought me a drink. How in the hell was I supposed to know he was a hockey player on the very team I was moving across the country to work for?
Seriously, what are the odds? Abysmal. The odds are abysmal. And yet, here we are.
“So…” Bryson side-eyes me as we finish the tour and head back up to the corporate offices. “That was kinda weird, huh? Logan Byrne thought he recognized you.”
Logan Byrne. Even his full name is sexy.
I force out a chuckle that sounds reedy even to my ears and push a strand of curls off my face. “Yeah. Totally weird.”
Bryson is quiet, probably waiting to see if I’ll elaborate, but when I don’t, he doesn’t push.
I appreciate it immensely. The last thing I need right now is to admit to a one-night stand with one of the players.
No way is that a good look, even if it was completely random and I had no idea who he was.
When we get back up to our offices, Bryson puts a hand on my shoulder and searches my face before murmuring a quiet warning that makes my stomach flip.
“Just be careful, okay? I don’t know what’s going on with you and Logan, but we can’t afford any drama between members of our team and the players.
There’s no official rule against dating or anything, but the woman who had the job before you?
She got too involved with the players, had some inappropriate interactions, and it didn’t end well for her.
Or us because, well, we ended up down a staff member.
You seem cool, Blair, and I’m not saying you’ll go around creating drama with Logan or anyone else, but you should know why your job was open.
” Bryson rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “So, yeah.”
My pulse feels like it’s stampeding through my veins, but I paste on a smile to reassure my brand-new coworker that dating a player won’t be an issue for me.
Especially not one who looks at me with the kind of disdain Logan just did.
Besides, the man doesn’t date. He told me himself.
“Trust me, you won’t have to worry about me.
I don’t have time for drama, and I definitely don’t have time for dating. ”
Bryson smiles and, thankfully, lets the subject drop.
I don’t have time to dwell on Logan Byrne or my batshit decision to pretend I didn’t recognize him.
Between the IT guy, Tess, and the stack of reading material she asked me to go over in order to familiarize myself with the Rogues and the type of community outreach and programs they have participated in over the last decade, my time is utterly filled.
When five o’clock rolls around, I’m hungry and exhausted.
“Great work today,” Tess says with a smile. “We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow. Now go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My boss waves me off, insisting that she doesn’t believe in working late unless there’s something incredibly urgent that needs to be dealt with, which I appreciate.
Reed texted when he got to our place to let me know he didn’t get lost and he’s completely fine, but I hate the idea of him being alone in an unfamiliar apartment in a brand-new city.
I want to get home and ask him about his day.
Walking to my car, my head is on a swivel.
I doubt Logan’s still here, but I’m not taking any chances.
The last thing I want is to have another run-in with him.
As long as I’m careful, I shouldn’t have any reason to see him—Tess said the corporate employees and the players rarely mix—but with my luck, he’ll be parked right next to me or something.
My rapid heart rate only slows when I see that there aren’t many cars left in the lot, and there are none parked near mine.
But I don’t completely relax until I’m halfway to the apartment.
As crazy as it sounds, I checked my rearview mirror every few minutes during the first half of my drive.
Not sure what I was expecting, but some irrational part of me worried I’d see Logan’s steely eyes glaring at me from my rearview mirror.
Reed has a pot of spaghetti cooking on the stove when I push through the door to our new home, and I let out a sigh of relief.
My little brother may not be chatty lately, and he may be sullen more often than not, but he’s a great kid.
He doesn’t wait for me to take care of everything and helps out where he can.
“Hey.” I drop my purse onto the couch. “How was your first day?”
Reed shrugs. “It was a first day. It was fine.” He studies my face, no doubt noting the exhaustion written all over it. “How was yours?”
“Good.” No way am I telling my little brother about Logan.
Because if I tell him about Logan, I have to admit to having sex with a random guy at a club, and I’m pretty sure that’s something most parenting experts would disapprove of.
“My boss seems awesome and my coworker is cool. His girlfriend has a nephew your age. They invited us to come over for dinner one night soon.”
“You don’t need to set me up on playdates, you know.” Reed turns to stir the spaghetti, but he’s not fast enough to hide the roll of his eyes.
Playdate. What a little shithead. “I know I don’t, but making friends at a new place is hard. And I’m your big sister. I worry about you. Because I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you too, but I’m not the one who has trouble making friends. When was the last time you hung out with anyone?”
Touché, little brother, touché. “I hang out with people.”
“Like who? And I don’t count.”
Dammit. “Um, I hung out with a couple of girls from work a month ago.” Definitely can’t tell him about Logan. Also, I don’t think mind-blowing sex with a stranger is what Reed means when he says I don’t hang out with people.
He snorts. “Like I said, I’m not the one you need to worry about. Maybe I should line up some playdates for you.”
Maybe I should let him. It’s not like I don’t already feel pathetic. What’s a little more humiliation on top of everything else? “Did you make any friends today?” I ask, turning it back on him.
“It was only one day.” He plays it off, but I catch the heat creeping up his ears. “There was a girl in my language arts class who was nice. She shared her notes with me so I could catch up.”
A girl? And not just any girl, one who’s making Reed’s ears turn pink? I want to give him so much shit, but if I do, he’ll never confide in me again. So I do my best to shrug off my big sister hat and put on a mom hat instead. “Oh yeah? That’s cool. What’s her name?”
“Cassidy. Don’t be weird.” He shakes his head as he pops open a jar of spaghetti sauce and pours it into a pan.
“What? I’m not being weird. I just asked her name.”
“It’s how you said it. You got all high-pitched. And your eyebrows did that thing they do when you’re trying not to make a big deal about something, but you really want to.” Thirteen-year-old boys shouldn’t be allowed to be this perceptive.
“I did not do a thing with my eyebrows.” I probably did. I’m pretty sure I’m still doing it.
Reed chuckles, and I’m struck by the way the sound seems lower than it did even a month or two ago.
My little brother is a teenager now, and he’s quickly turning into a man.
It makes my heart clench with a sudden pang of sadness that my parents will never get to see this version of Reed.
This tall, lanky teenager with a deepening voice and a tender heart he hides behind eye rolls and swearing.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to ask my dad for advice on how to be there for a teenage boy.
I’m so worried I won’t be enough for Reed.
That I’ll let him down when he needs me.
A lump forms in my throat, and tears well in my eyes.
“What’s happening right now?” he asks.
Crossing the kitchen, I wrap him in a tight hug. “Mom and Dad would have loved the man you’re becoming, Reed Sherman. I want you to know that.”
My little brother is quiet and stiff for a beat, then I feel the gust of his breath as he releases it. “Thanks, Blair-Bear. They’d be pretty proud of you too. Even if you are weird sometimes.”
I let out a watery laugh and hold Reed even tighter for a few more seconds. Any longer than that, and I risk his teenage wrath. He won’t look me in the eye when we break apart, but that’s okay. It gives me a moment to compose myself as I grab a salad kit out of the fridge and throw it together.
“So tell me everything about your day,” I say as we move in tandem around the kitchen.
Reed drains the noodles, I dress the salad, and some of the tightness in my chest eases as he tells me about his new teachers, the kids he met, and how different it all was compared to his school in LA.
It’s a lot to adjust to, and I know it won’t always be smooth sailing, but as I listen, I feel more and more certain we’ll be able to deal with whatever comes our way.
And as Reed and I exchange the stories of our day, I don’t even have time to dwell on Logan Byrne or his sexy, angry face when I pretended not to know him. In fact, I don’t give the blond Viking more than a passing thought for the rest of the night.
Until I’m curled up under the covers in bed.
Then, not only does Logan consume my thoughts, but he sneaks into my dreams too.
I wake up a sweaty, frustrated mess.