Chapter 9
nine
BLAIR
I make it two weeks without running into Logan. Just long enough to be lulled into a false sense of security.
“Blair, could you do me a favor?” Tess peeks her head into my little office and flashes one of her bright smiles.
The woman is a boundless ball of energy, and she always has a smile on her face.
Working for her has been a dream. We’ve even gone out for lunch a few times, and I could see her becoming a friend.
“Hey. Of course. What do you need?”
Tess grins and tugs a collapsible canvas wagon in Rogues’ colors into my office.
It’s filled with promotional pucks and felt pennants.
“You’re the best. I’ve been meaning to take care of this all week, but something always comes up.
We have that event at the community center coming up, so I need some of the players to sign this stuff.
There are a few packs of Sharpies for them to use.
The coach already knows you’re on your way. ”
Every new word that falls from Tess’s lips pricks my heart with a little jab of anxiety. She wants me to take this down to the players. She wants me to talk to the players.
Oh, crap.
“Are you sure you don’t want Bryson to do it? Seems like he knows these guys better than I do.” It’s a weak excuse, but my brain is buzzing with panic-induced static, and it’s the best I can come up with in the moment.
Tess waves a hand at me, dismissing my concerns. “Psh. Don’t be silly. He doesn’t know them all that well. And all you need to do is bring the merch down, tell them what to do, and supervise them so they don’t end up drawing dicks on the pennants or something.”
I choke on a laugh. “They’d do that?”
“They’re hockey players,” Tess says with an impish shrug.
“You’ll quickly realize that when you get all of them together, they really aren’t all that different from a herd of pre-pubescent teenage boys.
” She cocks her head to the side. “Well, they’re much taller and more attractive, but not much more mature. ”
“Right,” I say, giggling despite my unrelenting nerves. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I really don’t want to do this. “Are they down in the weight room?”
Tess shakes her head. “The ice. The first home game of the season is next week. Oh!” Her eyes go wide, as if she’s just remembered something. “We all get tickets. I have one for you and one for your brother. I can’t believe I almost forgot.”
I can practically feel the color drain from my face. “Oh, that’s okay. You don’t need to save us tickets.”
“Nonsense. You have to come. It’s important that you go to at least a few games each season.
How else will you truly understand what we’re doing here?
And besides, it’s so much fun. The team always goes all out for the employees at the home opener.
They cater dinner, give everyone gear, and most of the team stays after the game to sign stuff and take pictures with the kids. It’s a great time.”
It does sound fun, and Reed would probably love it, but all I can think about is Logan’s angry expression the last time we saw each other.
“I won’t take no for an answer. You’re new in town and to the organization. You need a night of fun. And I need to meet that cutie-pie little brother of yours.” Tess taps the photo of me and Reed I keep on my desk. “Don’t you think he’d love to go?”
He would. I know he would.
Knowing when I’ve been defeated, I sigh and offer my boss a smile that is the equivalent of waving a metaphorical white flag. “Okay, yes, of course we’ll go. It sounds fun.”
Or it would, if I hadn’t slept with one of the players and then pretended not to remember him. That’s what I get for trying to have a night of adult fun. Lesson learned, universe. Lesson learned.
“Alrighty. You head down to the ice. Text if you need me, but don’t let those boys leave until every single thing in that wagon has been signed.
If you need to yell at them, do it. Show those overgrown boys who’s boss.
” Tess gives me a wink, then saunters back into her office, leaving me with a wagon full of swag and a stomach full of knots.
“Sure,” I mutter to myself. “Show them who’s boss. Right.” Shaking out my hands, I force myself to grab the handle of the wagon and start the long walk to the ice. It gives me far too much time to think.
Did Logan tell his teammates about me? Do they all know I slept with him? They must, because I was definitely getting some weird looks that day in the weight room. God, that’s humiliating.
“I’m a walking example of why one-night stands are dumb,” I whisper as I slowly make my way down the halls of the arena. My feet drag like a death-row inmate shuffling to her doom.
It takes forever and no time at all to get down to the ice. Joe, the security guard I met that first day on my tour with Bryson, waits for me by the tunnel where the players usually enter. The older man flashes me a bright smile and takes the wagon from me.
“Miss Blair, so good to see you.” He stretches a hand out in front of him, indicating that he’ll follow me to the ice. “The team is almost done with practice. Why don’t you have a seat right here, and I’ll let the coaches know you’re ready.”
Nerves are jangling around inside my body, but I take a seat in the first-row aisle seat Joe indicates. I offer him a shaky smile as he parks the wagon, then heads toward the bench where a few men in Rogues’ gear gather, clipboards in hand.
Just keep your eyes on Joe. Don’t look at the rink. Don’t search for the Viking.
The swish of blades racing over the ice, the sharp crack of pucks hitting the blades of hockey sticks, and the shouts of big men in pads and practice gear draw my attention. No matter how many times I tell myself not to look, it’s hopeless. I’m too curious not to watch them.
Lifting my face, my gaze immediately connects with the intense glare of steely gray eyes. The contact only lasts for a second or two before Logan’s attention is drawn back to the action on the ice, but it’s enough to make my face heat with embarrassment and my stomach flip unpleasantly.
Logan Byrne looks at me as though he hates me.
It shouldn’t hurt. I don’t know him, and he sure as hell doesn’t know me.
But the rejection stings, regardless. It’s my fault.
I’m the one who pretended not to remember him, but what was I supposed to do?
The way he looked at me that first day of work—like I’d tricked him somehow—what good would have come from admitting that I remembered him?
He was very clear that night in LA that Logan Byrne isn’t a relationship guy.
So what if I panicked? It’s not like he would have asked me out on a date or anything.
No, I did what I had to do to protect a brand-new job. Reed depends on me, and nothing—and no one—is worth risking his welfare for.
“All right, men,” a handsome middle-aged man with rich brown skin and close-cropped hair shouts after blowing a whistle.
Coach Fry, if I remember correctly. “Good work today. Now, I know you’re all tired and want to get home, but each of you needs to sign some promotional items before you leave today. ”
The announcement is met with a chorus of groans, and I wish I hadn’t been in my office when Tess was looking for someone to take care of this task.
“I know, I know,” Coach Fry says, rolling his eyes. “But this is part of your job. So hurry up and hit the showers so you don’t knock Blair here out with your stench, then come back and sign some pucks. Got it?”
My face must be as red as a tomato with how hot my cheeks feel when every eye turns to me. I give an embarrassed little wave, because of course I have to do something completely lame, and a few of the guys chuckle. Not Logan, though. Logan shoots daggers at me with his eyes.
When the team exits the ice and files past me, I train my eyes on my hands, which I’m wringing in my lap.
What feels like ages later, the last skate-clad pair of feet have passed me by, and then a pair of sneakers stops within my line of sight.
Lifting my head, I’m met with the smiling face of Mike Fry, the head coach of the Rogues.
He holds his hand out for me to shake, kind eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Miss Sherman, so nice to meet you.”
I stand, shaking his hand, and return his smile. “Mr. Fry, hi.”
“Please call me Mike,” the coach says with a chuckle. “Mr. Fry was my dad.”
“Mike,” I correct myself.
“The guys shouldn’t be long. They all know what’s expected of them, so I don’t anticipate any of them giving you trouble, but you holler if they misbehave, okay?”
His eyes are so kind, and I’m sure he can tell I’m uncomfortable. I appreciate his efforts to make me feel at ease. “Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure it will be too.” He flashes me another smile. “You just moved from out of state, correct?”
“That’s right. From California.”
Coach Fry’s eyebrows rise. “That’s quite a change.”
“It definitely is,” I agree. “But I like it here so far. Everyone’s so nice.”
“Well, good, I’m glad to hear that. Will you be coming to our first home game? The team goes all out. It’s a lot of fun.”
“I’ll be there.” For my brother, I’ll be there. Even if I want to stay far, far away from anywhere Logan Byrne will be.
“Good. Well, I look forward to seeing you then. I have a few phone calls to make, so you’ll have to excuse me.” Coach Fry offers me one last, kind smile. “Have Joe come get me if you need backup, okay?”
Chuckling, I nod, even though I have no intention of asking him for help. If I can raise my little brother all on my own, I can handle two dozen rowdy hockey players.
The coach says his goodbyes, and then I wait.
It can’t be more than fifteen minutes later when the first few players make their way over to me.
They introduce themselves, listen to my instructions, and quickly get to work signing pucks and pennants.
As more of their teammates join them, I loosen up.
The guys are all nice, and they draw me into conversations with questions and jokes.
A few offer me flirtatious smiles, and one guy even asks me for my number, but I politely decline, peering down at my feet in embarrassment. I’m not used to attention like this.
When I look up, my breath catches in my throat as I find my Viking staring at the guy who just asked for my number, a frown marring his handsome features.
Four men stand around Logan, their gazes pinging between the two of us.
One man, a blond with shaggy wet hair and a massive grin on his face, steps forward and sticks out his hand.
Startled, I take it without thinking and return his shake.
“Well, hi there,” the blond man drawls. His hazel eyes twinkle with mischief. This one’s going to be trouble, I can already tell. “Blair, right?”
Oh, god. He knows.
Nervous, I shift on my feet, my cheeks heating, and I tuck a curl behind my ear. “Uh, yeah. Hi.”
Blondie’s grin grows impossibly wider. “Hi. I’m Griffin. It is so nice to meet you, Blair. Really, so nice.”
Griffin drops my hand, and I wrap my arms around my waist. “Oh, um, thanks?”
“You’re new in town, right?”
I try not to squirm as I keep my eyes on Griffin’s face so I’m not tempted to look at Logan. “Uh, yeah.”
“Do you have friends or family here, Blair?” Griffin watches me intently, but I don’t get the feeling that he’s mocking me or trying to make me uncomfortable. No, I’m managing that all on my own.
There’s Reed, but that’s not what Griffin is asking. And I don’t want to explain our situation to these guys, so I’m not going to bring him up. I shake my head. “No.”
“No one?”
I shake my head again, not really sure where he’s going with this.
“Well, that’s no good. You should come out with us one night soon. My wife is always looking to make new girlfriends, and I have a feeling the two of you would hit it off.”
That… isn’t where I saw this going. My eyes go wide as Griffin grabs a Sharpie and a puck and writes a number on it.
“That’s Mira’s number. I’ll tell her to expect a text from you. She and Isla and Lexi have a girls’ night planned next week, I think. I’m sure they’d love to have you.”
Seeing my confusion, the tall, dark-haired man Bryson introduced as the Rogues’ captain cuts in.
“Isla is my wife. Griffin is married to my sister, Mira. And Lexi is Ryder’s girlfriend.
” Maddox hooks a thumb toward another dark-haired man.
This one has more boyish features and longer, wavy hair. He smiles kindly at me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude.” They’re sweet, but there’s no way I’m inviting myself out with a group of women who are already friends.
Especially when I can’t just go out whenever I want.
Reed may technically be old enough to stay home alone, but I’m not comfortable leaving him to fend for himself while I’m off having fun.
“They’ll be at the game next week. And the family event after. Will you be there?” the younger man named Ryder asks me.
“Oh, I…I think so.”
I swear, I can feel Logan’s eyes burning a hole into my head.
“Great, we’ll introduce you,” Ryder says. “Griffin’s right, they’d love to show you around town.”
Clearing my throat, I muster up a smile that isn’t entirely fake, despite how awkward I feel about this whole exchange and that the man I had a one-night stand with is glaring at me. “Thanks. I’d like to meet them.”
“If we’re done offering to braid each other’s hair, can we sign the damned pucks and get out of here?” Logan all but growls.
My stomach twists, and I risk looking at him, which is a mistake. Because those gray eyes that held so much heat when we spent an unforgettable night together in LA now hold nothing but contempt, and I’m surprised by how much that hurts. Dropping my eyes to the floor, I take a step back.
“Right. Of course. I’m just going to see if anyone needs help with anything.” I take a few steps away when I hear Logan muttering under his breath.
“Sure. Run away, Blair. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”
My steps falter, my stomach bottoms out, and my heart races. Closing my eyes, I give myself three seconds to feel the sting of Logan’s words, then I lift my chin, plaster a fake-ass smile on my face, and make my way over to a group of players I haven’t met yet.