Chapter 26
twenty-six
BLAIR
“Hey Tess, is the coffee machine broken?”
Stifling a yawn, I pop my head into my boss’s office, hoping I’m just doing something wrong. I didn’t sleep well last night, because I spent too many hours replaying every single interaction I had with Logan at Mira’s place. And the way he stared at my lips when he walked me to my door.
I swear, he was thinking about kissing me again. And I would have let him.
Tess winces. “Yeah. Someone should be out to fix it on Monday.”
Monday? Well, crap. That’s not going to help me today. I’d run out and grab something from a coffee shop, but I’m swamped.
“Bummer. Okay, thank you.”
“Sorry!” Tess calls after me when I hurry back to my desk.
This is going to be a very long day.
I slump in my chair, head heavy and thoughts sluggish. It’s not ideal, especially considering the last-minute work I have to do to make sure all the Thanksgiving-time donating we do in the community comes together without a hitch.
The Rogues partner with Second Harvest Heartland to feed thousands of local families throughout the year, but our efforts really ramp up around the holidays.
While Reed and I were lucky that our parents left us set up with decent life insurance policies, I know how fortunate we were in that.
It easily could have been us needing help from local food pantries.
My phone buzzes on my desk, and I flip it over, expecting to see messages in the Hockey Honeys chat. Except it’s not the girls. It’s a certain blond hockey player who had my heart and mind racing so wildly it kept me up half the night.
Logan
Good morning. Did you start your hockey book last night?
I grin because I actually did start it when I couldn’t fall asleep.
Me
I did…
Logan
If you ever need someone to ask hockey related questions to, I’m here.
Thanks. I don’t think our romance book is going to be overly technical, though.
You never know. *winking emoji* How’s your morning?
A little better now that he’s texting me, but even cute messages from a hot hockey player aren’t quite enough to wake me all the way up.
Me
It would be better if the office coffee maker wasn’t broken. I’m dying here.
Logan
Did you stay up too late reading?
Only because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Me
Maybe…
Bryson grumbles at his desk about traffic and stupid coffee machines, and at least I’m not the only grumpy one.
Me
Everyone is tired and grumpy. We’ll be lucky if it’s not a bloodbath by lunchtime. I’m going to put on my headphones and ignore everyone.
Logan
If the office breaks out into violence, text me. I’ll come protect you.
My stupid heart does a pleased little flip. I know he’s merely flirting, but I can’t deny how much I enjoy reading that.
Me
I’ll just hide under my desk.
Logan
Sounds like a good plan. Gotta go finish practice. Stay safe.
“What are you grinning about?” Bryson grumbles as he leans a hip against my desk. “Everything sucks and I’m dying.”
He looks as pathetic as he sounds, and I chuckle. “Can I have your chair if you die? It’s nicer than mine.”
“Cold, Blair. Cold.” At least it earns a small smile from my coworker. “I texted Adrienne to see if she could bring us some coffees, but she said she couldn’t leave work and that I had two working arms and legs. Rude.”
Amusement replaces some of my exhaustion as the tall, brown-haired man scowls and stomps one foot like a petulant toddler. Then again, sometimes I don’t think there’s much of a difference between toddlers and grown men, outside of their height.
“Yes, how rude of her to refuse to stop working to bring you coffee.”
“I asked her to bring some for you too,” he says, pouting.
“So thoughtful.”
“Ugh. Shut it,” he says, but the scowl melts off his face, replaced by a twitching smile. “Seriously, this is going to be such a long day. We have a lot to do to get everything ready for Second Harvest. Let me know if you need any help.”
“Ditto.”
Bryson gives me a tired smile, raps his knuckles against my desk, then heads over to his own. I throw myself back into work, even though I’m struggling to get my eyes to focus, and the start of a headache throbs at my temples.
I really should try to cut back on the coffee. Going through caffeine withdrawal after one morning isn’t a great sign. I tap my phone to check the time and groan when I see the numbers lit up in bold numbers across the screen.
“Seriously? How has it only been an hour?”
“Sounds like you could use a pick-me-up,” a deep, unexpected voice says.
I squeal and nearly topple out of my seat. It’s not my finest moment, and it’s even more mortifying when one deep chuckle is joined by a few more.
“Dude, when you always bragged about making women scream, I didn’t realize you meant in terror.”
“Shut the fuck up, Wright,” Logan grumbles, elbowing his friend in the gut.
Griffin lets out a little oomph sound and laughs. “Graves-Wright. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you shitheads.”
Five massive men take up all the space in my tiny office, and the scent of coffee perks me up. All of them carry trays with large, steaming cups, and I’m struck speechless.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“Bringing you coffee,” Logan replies with a soft smile. “I figured it would be shitty to only bring you one. Hopefully, we have enough for everyone in the office.”
I’m struck momentarily speechless as my heart gets caught in my throat. “That’s… Wow. That’s so sweet of you guys.”
“We have several options, and you get first pick. There are mochas, vanilla lattes, regular coffee, and caramel lattes.” Logan watches me as he rattles off the flavors, gauging my reaction to each.
“Caramel, please,” I murmur.
Sebastian grabs a cup out of his drink holder and hands it to me.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime. We’ll bring these to everyone else.” The goalie takes Logan’s tray as well, then he and the other three guys file out of my office.
“That was really sweet of you,” I say quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
The blond winger smiles down at me and shrugs. “You said you were dying. I couldn’t have that.”
I want to ask him why he suddenly cares.
Where this change of heart came from. I want to ask him if this is some game to him, or if he’s just trying to get me into bed again.
But then I think about the way the girls reacted to Logan going to Reed’s game with me, and I keep my mouth shut.
Because if this is real, even if it’s friendship and nothing more, do I really want to ruin it with my insecurities?
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, angel.”
The nickname has warmth pooling in my belly and my pulse quickening. I’m not sure what’s happening between us, but I don’t want to sabotage whatever it is. Still, as my coworkers crowd around Logan’s teammates and Bryson looks my way, I also know I need to be careful. I can’t jeopardize my job.
I’ll have to be smart about all of this.
“When’s Reed’s next game?” Logan asks, surprising me.
“Oh, um, he has one tomorrow.”
Logan frowns. “We have games tonight and tomorrow. Does he have any games next week?”
“Monday and Thursday,” I tell him. It’s sweet that he’s asking, and cute that he seems disappointed he can’t make it to the Saturday game, but does he really want to go to another eighth-grade football game and shiver through it in the stands?
“Do you think I could go with you on Monday? I could pick you up. We could drive together.”
“You really don’t have to go to his games.” Reed was thrilled that Logan showed up the other week, but he doesn’t expect a repeat. And neither do I.
“I had fun. I’d like to go. Unless you don’t want me to?” The vulnerability in Logan’s face when he says that makes me regret my words. He looks like I kicked his puppy.
“Of course I want you to go. I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
He reaches out, and I almost think he’s going to brush his fingers through my hair again, but then he snatches my coffee cup off the desk and takes a sip.
When I make a little sound of outrage, he smirks.
“Trust me, I don’t feel obligated. I want to go.
So, what time should I pick you up from your place?
I assume you’re going to need to head home and change first.”
“Yeah, I’d freeze my ass off if I wore work clothes to a game.”
“We don’t want that,” he says. Then, quieter, to himself, he mutters, “Especially not an ass that perfect.”
I nearly choke on my own saliva, which makes the blond asshole smile like the Cheshire cat. He knows exactly what he did.
“You good?”
“Great,” I wheeze.
“Good. Now, tell me what time on Monday.”
Fuck. Why is it hot when he’s being bossy? “You can pick me up at a quarter to six. The game starts at six thirty.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Everything that comes out of this man’s mouth sounds like an innuendo, and my lower belly hollows out. “Whatever.”
His laughter vibrates through me in the best way. “Enjoy your coffee, Blair. I’ll see you later.”
“Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks, angel. Tell Reed I said the same.” And with that, Logan strides out of my office and joins his friends, who all wave and shout their goodbyes to me. The office feels so much quieter and less full of life with them gone.
“That was interesting,” Bryson says, poking his head through my door.
“Was it?” I shrug.
“Mm-hmm. I wonder what prompted five of the most popular players on the team to bring coffee up to the office? I wasn’t sure they even knew we existed up here.”
“Who knows?” I say unconvincingly.
Bryse narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Right. It’s a huge mystery.”
“I’m sure they were just being nice.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s it.” He chuckles before turning around and wandering back into his office, but the whole encounter leaves me feeling a little unsettled.
Bryse and I have become friends. I hang out with his girlfriend regularly.
Hell, he even throws off big brother vibes sometimes, so I know he wouldn’t throw me under the bus to Tess or anyone else at the organization about spending time with Logan.
Still, I can’t help worrying that someone else will take issue with it.
I need this job.
I’ll have to be careful, and if things somehow progress past friendship with Logan, we’ll need to talk about keeping things quiet. Not that I really believe it will get to that point.
For now, I’ll just enjoy my caramel latte and the faint hint of vetiver and musk that lingers in my office from whatever cologne Logan wears. I can’t worry about what might happen with him in the future.