During the intermission, I’m standing near the concession stand getting a bag of popcorn with Shelly. A nearby horn signals that the game will be back on soon. As we make our way back to our seats, Shelly stops.
“Oh no,” she says. “Look who it is.”
A woman with jet black hair is sitting in the empty seat next to mine.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“That’s Catherine,” Shelly says.
The name stirs my heart as I recognize it immediately. Catherine is Harrison Cooper’s girlfriend. She was the woman that came between him and Logan. She was the reason for their fight. She was Logan’s ex.
Popcorn in hand, we squeeze into our row and find our seats which are being saved by our coats and bags.
As I sit down and slip my change into my bag, I sit back with my popcorn. Catherine clips me with her elbow as she leans on the armrest between us, making herself comfortable.
I try to ignore her and focus on the game which just started. I look for number thirteen.
“So.” Catherine looks at me. She’s close enough that I can feel her breath, which smells like lipstick. “You’re Logan’s friend?”
“We’re dating,” I say casually as I keep my eyes on the game.
She looks me up and down. “You?” She lets out a laugh. “No one dates Logan Drake. He’s not a dater.”
“What do you mean?” I finally pull my gaze to look into her green eyes which are made all the more vibrant by her dark raven hair. I wish I could say she was unattractive, but her beauty is striking.
Catherine shrugs dismissively. “He’s just not a dater, that’s all.”
“Well, that’s clearly not true because I’m dating him.”
“Have you seen his place?” She asks as if she’s a lawyer.
Is she on to me? Is she trying to trap me in a lie?
I sit up. “Not only have I seen his place, but I’ve also slept in his bed.”
Her smile disappears. “No, you haven’t. Logan Drake does not let women sleep in his bed. At least, he didn’t let me…”
I smirk. “Where do you think I slept last night?”
She looks me up and down again while her nostrils flare. Leaning in, she asks, “How much are you making off of him?”
My blood freezes. Does she know? The last thing I need right now is for someone to spill the beans about us.
“One nude photo can make you a millionaire,” she says under her breath.
Oh. So that’s what she means. She wants me to blackmail him.
In the distance, a horn blares. The crowd erupts into cheers, but I’m locked in my seat staring at Catherine.
“How could you do this to someone?” I ask. “How can you live with yourself?”
She rolls her eyes. “These guys don’t care about us. You’re a fool to think they do.”
“Logan and I are happy,” I say. Deep down, I mean it.
She stares at me, seeming furious that Logan Drake could possibly have a relationship with me—the nerdy girl who lost her virginity to the campus clown.
She flips her hair. “Whatever. You don’t get to judge me.” She gets out of her seat and squeezes past everyone down the row until she disappears.
“What was her problem?” I ask.
“Ignore her,” Shelly says. “She’s a vulture.”
I sit back in my seat and focus on the game, hoping to forget everything that just happened. But Catherine’s words burrow deep. She’s right. Logan is using me. But I’m not lying when I say I care about him.
I watch number thirteen as he speeds down the ice, putting the puck into the net. The crowd roars. Everyone is looking at him. Logan turns and looks up at me. He points in my direction as the arena rumbles around us.
***
The game ends with a come-from-behind win for the Cleveland Crushers. After a quick visit to the university to submit a project before the midnight deadline, I make my way back to Logan’s place. As I make my way up to his apartment, I worry about how I’ll find him. Will he be angry? Sulking? Depressed?
Whatever he’s feeling, I can understand why. His former team, the Cleveland Crushers, made it into the playoffs. And his best friend Coop is still dating the woman who used blackmail to completely disrupt his career.
I prepare to comfort him, to be understanding and give him space if he needs it. But when I enter his apartment, I’m surprised to find him happily chopping tomatoes at the kitchen counter.
“Hey, pretty lady.” He looks up at me and smiles. “You hungry?”
A delicious aroma is drifting out of the kitchen.
“There’s a casserole in the oven and the timer is set to go off in fifteen minutes.”
“Midnight casserole?”
“What can I say? I’m famished.”
“You’re in a good mood.”
“I can’t let that game get to me.” He scrapes the chopped tomatoes into a bowl and starts cutting a red pepper. “We can still get enough points to qualify in the upcoming games. Which, by the way, I’m leaving tonight after dinner. Coach wants us there early so we can practice tomorrow morning.’
“But the Crushers,” I say. “Your old team advanced to the playoffs.”
“You know, it’s weird,” he says. “I thought this would be a bit more soul-crushing. But the truth is, I’m happy for Coop.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. He played a good game. It was a good competition. And that’s all we ever really wanted from each other.”
“Oh, well color me impressed, Mr. Drake.”
He smiles. “Besides…you gave me good advice about being the first one to reach out.”
“You reached out to him?”
He puts the paring knife down and leans on the counter.
“I tried to. He’s still mad but I felt good doing it. At least I tried, you know? So, thanks for that.”
I smile. “You’re welcome.”
He keeps his gaze on me.
“What?”
“You were touching your necklace today.”
My hand shoots up to my Aunt Mary’s rose pendant. “I wanted you guys to have good luck.”
He grins. “You do care about me.”
“Of course, I do.” I look into those dark eyes of his.
I could kiss him right now.
“You know…” His gaze lingers on me. “It’s been really nice having you here.”
“I’ve enjoyed being here…and it’s too bad that I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“You are?” He furrows his brow.
“Yeah, well…the res building was cleared today so they’re letting people back in tomorrow.” I internally chastise myself for sharing all this information. I could have milked this scenario for a little bit longer.
“Oh. Okay.” He looks back down at his cooking.
“You look sad,” I say.
He smirks. “Not sad. I’m just wondering who I’m going to play Xbox with.”
I smile. “You really want to get your ass kicked again?”
“Well, I’m getting better!”
I chuckle as I lean on the counter, unintentionally getting closer to him.
“I’m going to miss staying here. It was fun hanging out with you.”
As he looks up at me with that seductive gaze, his dark hair falls into his eyes. “I’m going to miss you too.”
Oh boy.
He’s so close that I can smell his spicy, earthy scent. I inhale so deeply that I make myself a bit dizzy.
An overwhelming feeling comes over me. Throwing caution to the wind, I lean in and press my lips against his.
My body tenses for a moment but when I feel him kiss me back, I allow myself to relax and melt into him.
He runs his hand through my hair as he deepens the kiss. His lips are even plumper, more delicious than I remember. And, even though we’ve done this before, this feels different. This feels natural, organic. This feels like something more.
My hands move up his chest as he presses his body against mine. His hands slither around my waist. My knees threaten to buckle beneath me but I manage to remain stable.
I move my hands over his shoulders, his neck, up into his hair. I touch him the way I’ve wanted to touch him this whole time.
The world seems to disappear and time slows down completely as we lose ourselves in each other, releasing several weeks of tension like a dam releasing a river. Kissing him with intention, I respond to his pace.
I let out an involuntary moan as I come up for air.
Logan kisses my cheek, my neck. In an effort to breathe in his addictive aroma, I inhale… but I smell something burning instead.
“It’s hot,” I manage to say.
“Yes,” he breathes.
“No, I mean. It’s burning. The food is burning!” As much as I don’t want this make-out session to end, I pull away from Logan and grab the oven mitts.
The alarm goes off.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“Oh shit!” Logan grabs a pan and starts fanning the alarm.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I pull the oven door open, allowing a dark plume of smoke to billow out.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I pull the crisp casserole out of the oven as Logan opens the windows.
“That’s what I get for trying to make a nice meal!” Logan rushes over to survey the damage.
“Only part of it is burned. We can eat the rest!”
He laughs. “If you want to. I’ll have the frozen pizza that’s in the freezer.”
“I think we’ll be okay.” I look up at him. His piercing dark eyes don’t waver.
We stare at each other in silence.
“We kissed,” I say, finally.
“Yes, we did,” he says confidently.
My body feels like it’s buzzing from head to toe. I barely have a chance to process what this all means when Logan leans in to kiss me again. His hands find their place on my waist. My body is pulsing with excitement. I’ve never felt this wild before.
A kiss. A kiss with no ulterior motives.
It almost feels unreal.
Just as we’re about to get back into the rhythm of things, the doorbell rings.
Logan exhales heavily.
“That’s my ride to the airport.”
“You have to leave already?”
“Coach’s orders.” He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “I just want to stay here and keep kissing you.” He holds me tight against him.
“Me too. Or maybe I can crawl into your suitcase.”
He laughs. “Coach wouldn’t like that so much.”
“That’s too bad.”
The doorbell rings again, and now Logan’s phone is buzzing.
He smiles and nods over at the counter. “Enjoy that for me.”
I look at the half-burnt casserole. “Maybe I’ll have the pizza.”
He kisses me again. “I’ll talk to you later, Riley.”
“Yeah,” I say, still in a trance. “Later.”
He grabs his jacket and the hockey bag next to the door. Giving me one last look, he smiles and leaves.
I look back at the food but all I can taste is Logan. He tastes like the best and worst decision of my life.
