Page 82 of Just Say Yes

MJ set her chin and, with a tiny shake of her head, scooted out of bed. I knew she understood.

The frenetic buzz of pregame energy whipped through me, but now it was paired with the fact I’d spent an entire evening with the most irresistible woman on the planet and nothing happened.

The match wasn’t just another exhibition—it was a chance to prove to myself, to the team, and to the press that I still had what it took. With every passing season, the whispers about my age grew louder. But I wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. And not with her watching.

We were too close to admitting things we shouldn’t. For now, it was best if we kept up the facade that we were friends who occasionally fooled around rather than admit to myself how I was really feeling.

It was safer for the both of us that way.

TWENTY-TWO

MJ

“Hey,”came Logan’s playful voice. “Try this on.”

A bundle of fabric flew at me, and I caught it midair. When I opened it, I realized it was a jersey—Logan’sjersey.

My eyes whipped up and he shrugged. “If you want to.”

I grinned and disappeared into the hotel bathroom to slip it over my long-sleeved shirt.

A thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach.

Wearing Logan Brown’s rugby jersey was not on my bingo card, but staring at my reflection in the hotel mirror, it was hard to deny that Wildhawks green and gold looked pretty damn good on me. I turned to look at my back and admire howBrownstretched across my shoulder blades.

If Trent showed up and saw me wearing it, would he care? WouldIcare that he cared?

A petty part of me wanted him to see me in it and get pissed off. I wanted Trent to realize that he’d messed up when it came to me. Maybe Logan was right and Trent would realize what he’d done was cruel and wrong and that what he had done had hurt me.

I shook my head. Trent’s actions had proved to me that he had the emotional intelligence of a gnat. The more likely scenario was that if he noticed, he would give Logan a hard time and rattle him before his match, or he wouldn’t give a shit.

I didn’t know which was worse.

“Ready?” Logan called from the kitchen. “I’ve got coffee to go.”

I exhaled and fluffed my hair one last time. When I exited the room, our overnight bags were stacked neatly by the door, and Logan grinned at me with one paper cup in his hand. “Looks good.”

I twirled, showing off the jersey with a laugh before accepting the paper coffee cup. “Nothing for you?”

He shook his head. “No caffeine before a match. I’ve got a pretty regimented plan on game days.”

“Ah,” I said, taking a small sip of the coffee he had made for me. “Another superstition. Remind me again how you think it’s all bullshit?”

I stifled a laugh as Logan’s flat stare bore into me. “Let’s go, Clover, before I show you just how unsuperstitious I can be. Checkout isn’t until noon.”

A delicious thrill danced through me, knowing exactly what he meant.

Logan grabbed our bags, despite my offer to help, and together we walked out of the suite and toward the elevators. He filled the drive to the field with casual conversation. Small moments wereeasywith Logan. It made me feel like if we had met in a different timeline, things would be so much simpler.

Reality came crashing back when Logan hit the brakes and mutteredfuckunder his breath. I followed his gaze to see Trent and another man standing outside the box office, arguing with the ticket agent.

Logan threw the vehicle into park. “Wait in the truck.”

Before I could even argue, he was gone. I stared in shock as Logan stomped toward Trent. I hadn’t seen him at all, except for a few pictures online when I was still stalking his social media accounts, since he’d ghosted me.

It struck me as almost funny—his hair seemed to be thinning. He wasn’t as tall as I’d remembered either. Something about him had lost its luster, and for that I was grateful. Sadly, the imaginary horns I always pictured him with were missing, but it had never felt like he was the one who’d gotten away.

It was more like I’d dodged a bullet.

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