“Hey, Logan.”
“Hm.” He sounded like he was on the verge of falling asleep too.
“You never answered. What makes you so sure you’ll win the fight against the boyfriend you think I have?”
“Because, Mae.” He yawned. “I’d be fighting for you.”
My eyes shot open. I glanced over my shoulder, but his eyes were shut and his face looked peaceful. Had he really just said that?
Chapter 19
When I woke up, Logan was already out of bed. Music was playing in the en suite bathroom, but I couldn’t make it out because it was too low. As I sat up and pushed the sheets away, I stretched and yawned. I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but I definitely felt like I’d gotten my energy back. My head whipped in the direction of the en suite bathroom door when it opened and I saw a shirtless Logan walking out. The black sweatpants he wore hung low on his hips, covering half of the V that disappeared into them. There was absolutely no denying Logan worked on his fitness. A lot. I glanced away quickly, too quickly. Too obvious.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I continued stretching my arms, unable to look back at him. It felt weird knowing I’d slept beside that specimen and didn’t do anything but. I stood. “I, um, should go. I have to do a few things before I head to the rink.”
“See you later.”
I smiled, grabbed my phone from the nightstand, and walked out of the room in a daze. “Thanks again,” I called out.
“You don’t have to thank me, Amelia,” he said, picking up a shirt and pulling it over his head. “You look like you got more rest in one hour than you have since I saw you at your parent’s house.”
“It was dark.”
“What?”
“When you saw me at their house. It was dark.”
“When you saw me it was dark,” he said. “I was there the entire time.”
I stared at him for a beat. From his expression, I could tell if I asked questions, he’d answer, but I had no questions. Not about that and not for him. He’d already told me to stay away from the cloaks, which meant he wasn’t one of them. Otherwise, he’d known what they did. He may have even been there. I blinked away from him and waved as I rushed down the hall to my own apartment, shivering as I thought about him being there. I couldn’t fathom a situation in which he would’ve been there to lock me in a dark room and then gone and invited me to sleep in his bed because he knew how tired I was. I needed to stop before I continued to drive myself crazy.
I was still looking over my shoulder when I arrived at the rink. I’d pocketed the ominous little black card sent to me and the one I found that had my brother’s name on it. At the very least, I’d show up and find out why they were so adamant about me going. Maybe they wanted to give me answers. I pulled open the door of the rink and walked inside, following the music that was playing. As I approached the ice, the Foo Fighters got louder, and I saw that the team had already started doing drills.
When I was little, I used to go to all of Lincoln’s practices and games, mostly because we had the same nanny and Mom dropped the three of us off together. As I got older and started getting interested in dance and swimming, it was his turn to get dropped off with me. And of course, once we reached a certain age, we stopped attending each other’s practices. I still went to his games though. Dad used to joke that when he was little, soccer was the only thing he knew, the only equipment you needed were legs and a ball, but his kids decided to play a sport with a stick and a ton of equipment.
The Mighty Ducks were all the rage when we were little, so of course, my brother wanted to play. Hell, I wanted to play, but no one would hear of it. They wanted me to remain unscathed and unblemished—a little porcelain doll to place on a shelf. I put my hand on the glass and looked across, scouting what angle I could take good pictures from. It wasn’t like the coaches were going to let me go on the ice with them for some pictures for the school paper. I spotted an opening at the player’s bench, and headed in that direction, listening to the way they shaved the ice each time they came to a stop.
Once there, I took my camera out and started snapping pictures. In my lens, I could see Logan and Nolan skating side by side. All of the players had the same rhythm, the same momentum, as if this was a synchronized dance they could do in their sleep. When the music switched up, they started different power skating drills, working on their edges and speed. The level of skills was high pace and amazing to watch. If they did this instead of play actual games, I would probably be just as entertained. The song was almost over when the coaches came out onto the ice and they all huddled around as they were talking.
I snapped pictures as they huddled together, blocked shots, and threw each other into the boards. When I felt like I had enough images, I just sat and watched them practice. I glanced at my watch, realizing that if I wanted to go to the library to look at the newspaper archives, I would need to leave soon. I couldn’t make myself get up though. I was too enthralled in the music and the way they moved out there. Before I knew it, the practice was over. The music stopped, the guys and coaches got off the ice, and I was left by myself in the desolate rink. I googled to see if I could walk to campus from here, and upon finding out it would take me way too long, I decided on an Uber. I stood, grabbed my things, and started walking out.
“Did you get any good pictures of me?”
I jumped up, dropping my phone and everything else in my hands as I turned around to find Nolan standing behind me. My hand flew to my chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“You shouldn’t be staring at your phone when you’re walking alone.” He raised an eyebrow. He was no longer in his gear, but wearing a t-shirt and sweats. His hair was wet, with what I assumed was sweat. He kneeled down and gathered my things for me, handing them back. His eyes zoned in on the cards from the secret society that I’d tucked into the little pocket behind my cell phone, but he didn’t comment as I took them from his hand. “Did you take any good pictures?”
“I think so. I hope you’re not offended by this, but after a while, I couldn’t tell you guys apart out there. Most of you have the long Viking hair thing going.”
“Impossible.” He chuckled. “I’m always the hottest.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re that confident in yourself.”
“I don’t like how unimpressed you are with me.”
I laughed. He didn’t. “You’re serious.”
“I am serious.” He frowned. “Normally, girls are totally all over me by now. You like Fitz? Is that it?”
“What? No,” I answered quickly, wondering if Logan had said anything to him. “Why would you think that?”
“You left the party together the other night.”
“Are you spying on me?” I raised an eyebrow. “Or Logan?”
“Logan.” He smiled, saying the name as if it was foreign. “I bet he likes that you don’t call him Fitz like the other ones.”
“You mean his harem?”
“Sure.” Nolan chuckled, then winked. “Nolan and Logan sound similar, if you want to try me out instead. I won’t be mad if you get our names mixed up when we’re fucking, you know.”