The morning before Logan’s flight came in, I walked to campus to meet Crystal at the bookstore. Getting my textbooks for the semester was my last task, and we both wanted to check it off the list.
The walk was good. The sunshine and cool air energized me, but it didn’t prepare me for what I would see the second I entered the bookstore.
“Hey!” Crystal waved from down the aisle, but I couldn’t look up. I stared at the stand of school newspapers, Logan's face staring back at me from the front page. Unmistakable even from a distance.
But he wasn't alone. Draped over him was a gorgeous blonde, her sequined dress leaving little to the imagination as she played with the medal hung around Logan's neck. He grinned at the camera, his arm around her waist. His teammates and a few other girls crowded around him in celebration.
The caption below read:
Douglas U's Logan Kemp celebrates record-breaking win at World Juniors.
Chapter
Thirty-One
I waitedat the arrivals curb, parked near the exit where Logan would appear. Travellers streamed out with bulging backpacks and luggage. I tried to ignore the pit in my stomach, but it was impossible. The picture from the paper was seared into the back of my eyelids, and I couldn't unsee it.
After a few minutes, Logan burst through the doors, his face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. My heart rate spiked. It should've been because I was excited to see him, but as he crossed the sidewalk, my gut twisted into knots.
He grinned when he saw me, then threw his gear and luggage into the back and approached the driver’s side. He reached for the handle. I popped the locks and slid over to the passenger seat.
Logan jumped in. "Hey, you." He leaned over the console and kissed me. I let him. I didn’t know what else to do. "What? No 'I missed you'?"
"Of course I missed you!" I tried to keep my tone light. "I just thought you’d want to get out of here. It's a zoo."
"Good point." Logan turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. "So, the Czech Republic was insane. Therinks there are so different. They have a wider playing surface. Some of those guys, I don’t even know. Their puck handling is off the charts.”
I tried to keep up, but Logan was talking a mile a minute.
He ran a hand through his hair. It was longer, a little wavier then it was when he’d left. “And the fans! I've never seen anything like it. They were chanting and waving flags. The whole place smelled like sausage and beer. I should've asked you to come with me. You would've loved it. I mean, the games were intense, but the city was amazing. You would've loved the architecture. We stayed in this old hotel with these massive wooden beams. The food was a bit of an adventure, like I said. I had no idea what I was ordering half the time. And the coffee? Strong enough to wake the dead.”
I stared at the dashboard, nodding at the appropriate moments. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, not when I was replaying the scene from the paper over and over in my head.
"I'm so glad you came to pick me up. It's been torture not seeing your face for the past two weeks." Logan reached over the console again, his fingers brushing my arm. I flinched, and he pulled back, confusion etched on his face.
"Sorry, I'm just . . . tired." I forced a smile and turned up the radio. "Look, Christmas music! It's still technically the holidays, right?"
Logan's eyes softened. "Of course. You must've been busy with finals and your family."
"Yeah, it's been non-stop." I kept my tone casual, even though my pulse was racing.
We stopped at a red light, and Logan leaned in, his eyes searching my face. "I missed you, Sharla. So much."
My heart clenched. I wanted to believe him, but the ghost of that picture stood between us. I turned my head as he came in for a kiss, and his lips landed on my cheek. "I missed you, too." Imanaged a smile and reached for his hand. "You probably want to get home and sleep."
Logan shook his head. "I'm wide awake. I slept on the plane." He ran his thumb over my wrist. "Maybe you can help me burn off some energy when we get home?"
I let out a nervous laugh. Hopefully he’d pass it off as flirty? "Maybe." I closed my eyes and leaned back in the seat, letting Logan's voice wash over me as he continued to talk about the tournament.
I wasn't going to bring up the picture. Not yet. For all I knew, it was probably nothing. Just a fan who'd gotten too close, and Logan hadn't wanted to be rude. He was a Canadian boy, after all.
So I told myself to relax. To match Logan's enthusiasm. He didn’t seem to notice my internal struggle. He was too wrapped up in his own world, and to be fair, it was a world worth being wrapped up in.
“The tournament level of play was next level. Those European teams, they don't mess around. I mean, I've played against tough competition before, but this? This was on a whole other level. The speed, the skill, the intensity. I had to up my game just to keep up. And the strategies.” Logan ran a hand over his jaw. “The way they moved the puck, it was almost like they were reading each other's minds. It was a wake-up call, that's for sure. I knew I had to push myself harder, be more aggressive, more strategic. And it paid off. I scored in every game except the first one. That was just a warm-up, though. Getting used to the rink and the different ice. But after that, it was like something clicked. I was in the zone.” He glanced over at me, his eyes alight with excitement. “You would've loved it."
I nodded. "I'm sure I would've."
"And the country itself, Sharla. It's beautiful. I mean, I'd seen pictures and stuff, but being there in person? It was like steppinginto a postcard. The architecture, the landscapes, the people. Everything felt so different from here. It was like stepping into a different world, you know?"