Page 44 of Frozen Hearts
He pulls me back out the door and over to the coffee cart. Thankfully, there is no line today, and Logan places our coffee orders while my brain is still playing catch up.
“Why did you book a private room?” I eventually manage to ask while we wait for our drinks.
His eyes bounce between mine, and there’s no edge of suggestion when he says, “I wanted to be alone with you.”
It’s not like how it was with Ben last night. Logan doesn’t want to get me alone to take advantage of my body—although, with how his eyes eat me up, I have no doubt he’d like to do exactly that. Nevertheless that’s not what this is about. He genuinely just wants to be alone with me. It doesn’t matter to him if it’s only so we can study.
I’m fairly certain it’s at this moment that I fall hopelessly in love with Logan Astor. It’s certainly the moment that I come to realize the fall is going to hurt like a bitch when I hit the bottom. But I’ve already tumbled over the edge without a parachute. There’s no slowing down, no stopping. I can only hope that the crash doesn’t entirely shatter me.
He grabs the recyclable tray with our drinks when they’re ready, carrying them in one hand as he drapes his arm over my shoulder, steering me along the path toward the library.
Being a Sunday, campus is relatively quiet. However, there are still people milling around. Most of them cast second glances our way and whisper as they pass us. Logan appears completely oblivious to the attention as he talks about everything from the TV show he binged last night to the weird dream he once had about a talking hamburger that tried to eat him.
I, on the other hand, feel each one of their searing gazes. They burrow beneath my skin, picking at my insecurities and preventing me from paying attention to what Logan is saying.
It isn’t until the door closes behind us in the small, private study room at the back of the library, effectively blocking out the rest of the world, that I no longer feel the weight of everyone’s questioning gaze on me.
Setting our coffees on the table, Logan spins to face me. Expression pinched as he searches my face. “I actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
“Last night, I was on top of my game. I played the best I ever have, and when I was thinking about why that might have been, I realized there was only one difference last night.”
He pauses, eyes darting back and forth between mine, and I feel like he’s hinting at something I should understand, but I don’t. “What?”
“You.You’rewhat was different. The fact you were there, cheering me on.”
“Okay…” I can’t for the life of me figure out where he’s going with this.
Stepping closer, he slides his large hands around my upper arms. “I played my best game ever because you were there screaming my name.” When I still don’t latch on to what he’s implying, he says. “I need you at all my games. I’ll get you tickets, pay for your transport, accommodation, whatever you need.”
He’s still rambling, even though I’ve zoned out. “Wait.” I hold up a hand to shut him up. “Hold on. You want me at all of your games? For the rest of the season?”
“Yes.”
“Even your away games?”
“Yes.”
Eyebrows scrunched, confused as all hell, I stare at him. “Why?”
It’s his turn to appear confused. “Weren’t you listening? You’re my lucky charm.”
I scoff. “The last thing I am is lucky. Cursed, would probably be more accurate.”
Not believing me—and why would he—he shakes his head. “To me, you’re a blessing in disguise. One I hadn’t realized I needed, yet I’m so damn thankful to have.” Closing the distance, he brushes the back of his knuckles along my cheek. “I know it probably sounds crazy, unreasonable even, but the fact you were there last night and I played so well… it’s no coincidence.”
“And, what? You think if I don’t attend the rest of your games you won’t play as well?”
He glances away but nods in confirmation.
“Logan, that’s insane. You played amazing last night because you're talented and dedicated. Didn’t you say there were scouts coming this weekend? You probably played your best game because of them.”
He scowls. “Then how come I played like shit on Friday, huh? I had no idea which night the scouts were going to show. I took one look at your empty seat on Friday, and I played like shit. Yet, I saw you on Saturday and it was like I wanted to play my best… for you.”
Smiling sweetly, I reach up to cup his coarse cheek. “That’s really sweet, except I can’t come to every single one of your games for the rest of the season. It’s just not feasible. I have to work. I can’t afford to lose my job.”
“But…”
