Chapter 13
thirteen
LOGAN
A wall of sound hits me when I step into the large room full of employees and family. Griffin, Maddox, and Ryder quickly pull away as they spot their women, leaving me with Sebastian. The last two single men standing in our group.
Scanning the room, I watch as players embrace their significant others, some guys smiling brightly as excited kids leap into their arms. I try to remember if my dad ever caught me like that. If I’d ever been that excited to see him.
I can’t recall a single instance.
People smile and say hi to me and Sebastian, making it painfully clear how few of their names I know.
Bash doesn’t seem to have that issue, greeting employees by name, asking questions, and making polite conversation.
I pretend to pay attention, nodding along for a few minutes, but then my eyes scan the room.
Is she here?
I hope not.
Deciding that if I have to be here, I might as well take advantage of the free food, I start toward the snack table before noticing a huge ice cream bar.
Probably not the smartest thing to eat after a big game, but screw it.
They have almost every topping you could think of, and if I can’t enjoy a cold beer at Chasers, I can enjoy a cold ice-cream sundae.
I’m loading the double scoop of vanilla with hot fudge and cookie crumbles when the voice of a teenage boy demands my attention.
“Holy shit. You’re Logan Byrne. You were a beast out there tonight, man.”
I may be a lot of things, but dismissive of a kid will never be one of them.
I know all too well how that feels. Pasting on a smile, I turn to see not one, but two tall teenage boys standing there, gaping at me.
The one who spoke is a couple of inches shorter than the boy behind him, with dark, close-cropped hair, and a bright smile overtaking his golden-skinned face.
The other boy’s skin is a shade darker, but they could be related.
Cousins, maybe? He’s smiling too but looks less sure of himself and his place here.
He has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and his amber eyes make contact with mine but don’t maintain it.
His caramel-brown curls bounce when he tips his chin down.
He stares at the floor like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.
“Dude, you must be sore after all those hits, right?” the first boy asks, drawing my attention back.
Grinning, I shake my head. “Nothing a sundae can’t fix.
” I use my chin to draw attention to the table of promotional pucks set up in the corner of the room.
It reminds me of last week when we signed all that gear under Blair’s watchful eyes.
I push the thought away and stop myself from looking for her. “You guys want me to sign one for you?”
“Yeah!” The first boy elbows the second. “I’ll get us both one.” And then he scurries off, leaving me standing alone with the quiet teenage boy who can’t seem to make eye contact.
“So, do you play hockey?” Lots of the kids here do. It gets in your blood.
The boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing again. “No, I play football. Never even tried on a pair of skates.”
That surprises me, but I play it cool. Something tells me if I make this kid feel like some kind of alien creature for not knowing how to skate, he’ll shut down. “Football, huh? You any good?”
His ears turn pink. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugs. “I’m all right.”
“What position do you play?”
“Tight end.”
That’s a difficult position. It takes skill and strength, not to mention confidence on the field. “You play on a team?”
The first boy rejoins us, and I set my ice cream down. I feel eyes on us, but I don’t pull my attention away from the kids in front of me. There’s nothing worse than an adult making you feel like you’re not worth their attention at this age.
“I just switched schools and missed the initial tryouts. The coach agreed to let me go out for a spot, though, so hopefully I will next week.”
I take the pucks from the first kid and grab the gold Sharpie he hands me. “That’s awesome. I’m sure you’ll get a spot. Something tells me you’re good.”
The boy shuffles his feet. “Thanks.”
“So, what are your names?”
“Eddie,” the shorter boy says. He hooks a thumb at his friend. “This is Reed.”
Signing their pucks, I ask the boys a few more questions and do my best to draw Reed out of his shell, but he lets Eddie do most of the talking, answering me with as few words as possible.
Still, I don’t miss the way he stands taller the longer we speak.
My mind wanders to my connections. I know a couple of football players here in the Twin Cities.
I wonder if I could connect them with Reed.
Because something tells me the kid has talent.
And that he could use some more people in his corner.
Soon, a crowd has formed around us, and a pretty, curvy woman with black hair almost down to her waist calls the boys’ names.
I tell them to have a good night, making a mental note to ask who she is so I can figure out who Eddie and Reed belong to.
Then I’m hardly able to eat two bites of my sundae before it melts as employees and their kids ask for autographs or start conversations about the game.
By the time Sebastian tugs on my elbow and extracts me from the crowd, I’m more than ready to escape and head to the bar.
My eyes make a sweep of the space. Not because I’m looking for her, but because I’m looking for the other guys.
Still, I’m relieved not to see Blair. I know the guys think I’m being an asshole, but there’s no way the woman doesn’t have some sinister plan.
“She left,” Bash says with a soft chuckle.
“She who?”
“That really how you want to play it?”
I shrug. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s fine. I’ll play along this time. Let’s head to Chasers.”
The bar is even louder and more crowded than the event room at the arena, but this place is a haven for us. People cheer when we walk in, but for the most part, they leave us alone. It’s what keeps us coming back after home games.
“There they are,” Mira calls out, raising her hands, as if she’s responsible for summoning us or something. There’s a goofy smile on her face, and it’s clear they’ve already had a couple of drinks.
I chuckle as Bash and I slide into the booth. “Here we are.”
“We got you beers,” Griffin says, sliding two pints our way with one hand while the other remains wrapped around his wife’s waist.
“Thanks.” I waste no time lifting the cold glass to my lips, taking a deep pull before saying hi to Isla and Lexi. They wave back, but it’s clear they were in the middle of a conversation and jump right back into it.
“I think we should come up with a list of fun places too. It’s got to be so hard moving somewhere you don’t know anyone,” Lexi says to Isla.
Maddox’s wife hums in agreement. “Totally. I have some ideas that would be perfect and age appropriate. And then we’ll figure out when we can do a girls’ night out. She seems really cool. I can’t wait.”
Lexi nods. “Right? And we definitely need to add to our girl gang.”
“Girl gang?” I ask Griffin, who smirks.
“Yep. I introduced them to Blair after the game. The ladies took to her immediately.” The smug bastard watches me, knowing how I feel about the beautiful liar.
Clenching my fists below the table, I ground out a “Great” that has Bash and Griffin chuckling.
“Seriously, dude, I think the whole thing was just a weird coincidence. She doesn’t seem like the kind of chick who would have the time or inclination to trap a guy.
” Griffin is always so sure about people.
So ready to give them the benefit of the doubt, even if they may not deserve it.
I admire his optimism, but I sure as hell don’t share it.
“I have to say, I agree with Griffin,” Bash says. “If she was really trying to lure you in, wouldn’t she at least have tried to speak to you after the game? The woman stayed clear across the room from you. At one point, she almost hid behind a fern to avoid eye contact.”
That has the assholes laughing, but it makes me frown. She literally hid from me? I mean, I didn’t want to see her, and I still think she’s a conniving liar, but hiding behind a plant is a little extreme. I wasn’t that big of an asshole to her, was I?
The whole situation sets me on edge, and I spend the rest of the night listening to my friends talk.
The women chat about Blair, the guys speculate about the season, and I’m silent.
My mind is a turbulent mess of things I can’t control.
My dad, the way his words and criticisms chafe, my absent mother, Blair, the curly-haired teenager who somehow reminded me of my younger self…
All of it is too much.
I stand, beer only half drunk, and clear my throat. “I’m gonna head out.”
Sebastian tilts his head, observing me. “You okay, man?”
“I’m good. Just tired. I’ll see you all tomorrow for the game.”
Everyone calls out their goodbyes, and I force myself to walk slowly out of the bar.
Because I learned long ago that you can’t run from the things that bother you.
Not when they’re rattling around in your head on a loop.
All you can do is drown them out as best you can with women, alcohol, or the game that keeps you sane.
But what do you do when your coping mechanisms lose their appeal?
The older I get, the less alcohol helps me forget, and the more it gives me hangovers that make getting checked into the boards even worse.
And women? They’ve always been my go-to.
But even they seem to have lost their appeal recently.
I guess I’ll just have to throw myself into the game. I can’t let anything jeopardize that. Which means Blair better stay out of my way, or I’ll do what I have to in order to protect my last sphere of peace.
I don’t care how nice the guys or their women think she is.