Page 126 of Just Say Yes

Hope unfurled in my chest. “Thanks, Grandpa.” I sighed and dragged a hand through my hair. “Now I’ve got to figure out a way to get her to talk to me.”

His soft chuckle floated through the line. “She’ll come around. I have a feeling you aren’t the only one who’s tangled up right now. Maybe try a grand, heartfelt gesture. Greta’s books always have someone screwing things up and having to decapitate a rival mafia boss to prove his love.”

Jesus.

I shook my head and smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again.”

When we hung up, I sat in silence for what felt like hours. My gaze landed on the jersey again, the fabric limp and lifeless over the chair. It was everything I used to be. Everything I used to want.

But it wasn’t about rugby anymore. I was ready to figure out who I was without the field or the constant noise or the medals.

I stood and moved to the window, my reflection staring back at me in the glass. The city lights blurred behind me, but the voice in my head was clear, low, and determined.

I can’t lose her.

My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling my focus back. I turned it over, my chest tightening when I saw her name on the screen.

I immediately answered. “Hey.”

“Hi.” I could tell she’d been crying, and my hand curled into a fist.

“Listen,” I started.

“Logan, I would like to talk.”

One corner of my mouth tugged up at her bold self-assurance.

When I was quiet, she continued: “I don’t know if you leaving means that whatever we have is done, or if we’re talking about a long-distance situation, or what. I love my job. I can’t imagine just, what? Following you around while you travel the globe? My family, friends—mylife—is here. I’m asking for some time to process this and figure out whatItruly want...then we can talk.”

The words sent a rush of hope and heavy dread through me, twisting in my gut.

“I understand,” I rasped.

Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for sure—I would never go back to the life I had before her.

THIRTY-FIVE

MJ

The steady humof the fluorescent lights in the hallway matched the monotony of my steps. My sneakers squeaked faintly against the linoleum as I passed the nurses’ station, clutching a chart like it was a shield. The smell of coffee hung heavy in the air, tempting me, but I didn’t stop.

I didn’t need coffee. I needed to keep moving.

“Wow, look at you, always keeping busy like the perfect little nurse.” Beth’s voice dripped with mock sweetness, each word cutting like a paper-thin blade.

She leaned against the counter, her blond hair perfectly curled despite the early hour. Her black scrubs were always just a little too tight, the neckline tugged down just a little too low.

I didn’t even glance her way as I flipped the chart open. “Beth, do you ever get tired of running your mouth, or is this just your cardio for the day?”

Her laugh was short, forced, but she recovered quickly, sidling up beside me. Her perfume—something cloyingly sweet—invaded my space. “Feisty. Trouble in paradise, then?” she said, tapping her nails against the counter.

My grip tightened on the chart, the edges biting into my palm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on,” she said, her lips curving into a smug smile. “You and Logan Brown. I mean, talk about a glow-up for you. A guy like that? Even I’m impressed.”

I bit back the urge to snap at her, my chest tightening. Beth had a way of digging in just deep enough to sting without outright drawing blood.

She leaned in conspiratorially. “I always thought he was a little out of your league, but you never know with these rugby types. I mean, a freakingOlympian. Must be nice having someone like him around.” Her smile curled upward. “Unless, of course, he’s not around anymore?”

---