Page 119 of Defensive Desire

Her words hit me like a jolt of espresso straight to the heart. "You're right."

"Of course I am." She smiles. "So if he means that much to you… Go. But go now."

I hesitate for only a second, then bolt for the door, my boots echoing on the concrete floor.

"Emma!" Sophia calls after me.

I pause, hand on the doorframe.

"Take the service elevator—it's faster than the stairs!"

I flash her a grateful smile and burst through the door, running up the corridor with my heart pounding so fast I feel it in my mouth.

The service elevator rattles like it’s held together by spit and years of Championship-winning hope. Every second feels like a year.

When the doors finallyclunkopen, I sprint out like I’ve just been launched from a cannon. Through the back corridor. Past a group of stunned teenage volunteers. Around a vendor cart stacked with unopened soda crates.

I take one last turn toward the arena entrance and—

BAM.

I crash face-first into what can only be described as a human wall made entirely of solid, sweaty, six-foot-four muscle.

Strong arms wrap around me just in time to keep me from rebounding off his chest like a rogue puck. The impact knocks the wind straight out of my lungs, but his grip is steady, those massive hands splayed across my back to stabilize me.

"Whoa there, gorgeous," a familiar voice rumbles, low and breathless. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

I blink up through startled, teary eyes.

“Logan?”

He grins, winded and glowing, like he just ran a marathon through snow and chaos to get here. His hair is wild, shirt slightly damp, and there's a streak of dirt on his jaw like he wrestled the entire defensive line on the way in.

“You’re here,” I whisper, gripping his arms like they’re the only solid thing in the world.

“Was gonna say the same thing to you.” He pulls me in tighter, one hand cupping the back of my head like he thinks I might disappear. “I was coming for you. I went to Chapter & Grind. You’d flipped the sign to closed and I was standing there like a fool banging on the door.”

I hiccup a laugh against his chest. “Yeah. I had to close up.”

“Youclosedyour café?” he asks, stunned.

“Yes.”

“…Why?”

“I needed a minute.”

He blinks. “A minute?”

“I was having an emotionalepisode,okay?!”

A wheezing sound comes from behind Logan, and I twist my head just in time to see Grandpa Walt shuffling toward us like he’s finishing the final leg of a heroic Olympic walk.

“Praise be to the hockey gods,” Grandpa Walt mutters, clutching the wall for support. He sputters a wet sounding cough into a handkerchief. “Took me limping halfway across the damn town, but I got him to you, didn’t I?”

“Grandpa!” I gasp, already moving to help steady him.

He waves me off. “I’m fine. Sprained my pride keeping up with this lunatic, though. He's the one you should be fussing over.”

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