Page 96 of The Breakaway

I couldn't focus on his words. I tried to pull myself back into the moment, but it was like trying to swim through molasses. Logan kept talking about the games, the plays, the goals, and I kept nodding and smiling like a bobblehead on speed.

This should’ve been where the excitement kicked in. Where I imagined this life he was describing. The teams, the fans, the success. In the past, I was always there next to Logan’s side. He was thanking me when he signed contracts, coming home to me after he won or lost, talking to me about his goals, waving to me in the stands.

This time, I couldn’t see it. The future stretched before me in a blurry mess, and that scared me more than a picture in the paper.

Logan took a breath. "And then, after that game, I checked my email, and there were messages from NHL agents. Coaches. Sharla, they're interested in me."

Hm. Interesting. He checked his email. I wondered if he wrote them back?

I forced a smile. "That's incredible, Logan. I'm so happy for you."

We turned onto Memorial Drive, and the Bow River ran alongside us, its surface frozen and covered in a thin layer of snow. And then in less than five minutes, we were turning onto our street, and the townhouse came into view.

Logan pulled up against the curb and killed the engine. He turned to me, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Home, sweet, home."

We took in his bags and gear, and as soon as we dropped them in the entryway, Logan didn't waste any time. He tossed his keys on the counter and turned to me. "Come here, babe."His hands found my waist, and he pulled me close. His breath was hot against my neck as he kissed me, his lips insistent.

I tried to reciprocate, but my thoughts were a tangled mess. The photo of that girl. The unanswered questions. I placed a hand on Logan's chest and gently pushed him back. "Wait, wait." I forced a laugh, scrambling for some way to stall. "I want to give you my Christmas gift."

Logan groaned. "Couldn’t we do that later?”

I shook my head, wriggling out of his grasp. I ran into my room and grabbed his present, then walked back out to find Logan searching through his bag.

“Mine isn’t wrapped.” He glanced over his shoulder.

“I don’t care.” I sat down on the couch. Logan walked over, holding something behind his back. Blood rushed in my ears. The last time I’d seen someone stand like that, it was Rob holding his letter.

I thrust Logan’s present into his free hand. "Here. I hope you like it."

Logan sat next to me, hiding whatever he had behind him on the couch, then unwrapped my gift. When he saw the signature, he looked up at me. "Is this . . . ?"

I nodded, a nervous smile tugging at my lips. "Doug Gilmore. The real deal."

Logan shook his head, his expression incredulous. "Sharla, this is incredible. How did you even find this?"

"I have my ways."

Logan's grin spread wide as he stared at the puck, his eyes tracing the signature over and over. "Thank you. This is the best." He leaned in and kissed me, then pulled back and motioned for me to stay put. "Okay, my turn."

He set down the puck and pulled my present out in cupped hands. "I got this at one of the Christmas markets." He opened his fingers, revealing a small wooden box. I ran my fingersover the smooth surface. The wood was dark and polished, with intricate carvings that wrapped around the edges. I lifted the lid and was met with the scent of pine and varnish.

"It's for your bracelet," Logan said. "I wanted you to have something special to keep it in."

The bracelet. My heart sank. Where was it? It had been in the pocket of my jeans, but had I ever taken it out?

The box was beautiful. It was kind that he thought of me. But that box could’ve been for anyone, and the bracelet was more for Logan than for me. He didn’t see me, and for the first time, I wasn’t dying to pretend he did.

I closed the box and set it on the coffee table. “Logan?—"

"Wait, where’s Rob’s blanket?" Logan frowned, searching the living area.

I blinked. “He didn’t tell you?”

Logan's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Rob moved out? He's gone?"

I nodded. “He moved in with Brayden and Rory.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair. "I guess it's just us, then." He laughed, but it sounded forced. "Damn. Double rent."

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