Page 50 of Frozen Hearts
"What?" He seems genuinely taken aback. "Hell no. Why would it?"
"Because it makes me difficult?"
“Baby, don’t you know hockey players love a challenge? Nothing good in this life comes easily.”
Fearing he doesn't grasp the severity of the situation, I blurt, "Logan, I'venever..."
His brows dip until they're sitting low over his russet eyes. "Wait... You'venevernever."
I give another shake of my head.
"But what about in the library the other day?"
My cheeks flame. "Well, yes, I did then—"
"Hold up, Shortcake." Moving back so he can see my entire face, Logan asks, "Was that your first ever orgasm?"
Okay, world, now would be a great time for a crater to open and swallow me whole.
When no such fortune comes to save me from this embarrassment, I duck my head and squeak out, "Yes."
The world falls silent at my admission, the only noise the rapid thump of my heart against my chest as I wait on tenterhooks for Logan's response. For him to push away. To tell me this has been fun, but he doesn't see it going any further.
Except none of that happens. Logan remains exactly where he is, perched directly in front of me, waiting until I muster the courage to lift my face to his.
As soon as I do, his lips tenderly brush mine and he whispers, "So. Fucking. Perfect."
Pulling back only enough to meet my questioning gaze, he cups my cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb along my heated skin. "I've never been so fucking glad to fail a class in my life," he states, voice husky and ringing with sincerity that makes my eyes water. "But don't hide from me again, Shortcake. I don't care if you're embarrassed. Your innermost thoughts; your insecurities and vulnerabilities are the aspects of who you are that I most want to know. The pieces that no one else gets to see."
I'm left speechless as I stare at him, thinking of the Jenga tower of vulnerability that has been precariously stacked over many years of self-hate, trauma, and pain. Tonight's admission is barely a drop in the ocean of fragility residing inside me. Despite his heartfelt sentiment, I don't believe Logan is ready for me to offload anything more profound onto him, however, it gives me hope that maybe one day Logan could be someone I can confide in about the darker aspects of my life.
Voice laden with emotion, I softly respond, "Okay."
He holds my gaze for a moment longer until he is satisfied with my agreeableness. I see when he is because his eyes soften, the lines in his forehead smoothing out, before he reaches into the back of the car. He grabs a t-shirt from an open gym bag and, in an unexpected move, begins to clean me up. He wipes the residue from between my legs before falling back into his seat while I slide my panties back on.
Tossing the t-shirt into the back seat, he pulls the car back onto the road, his hand settling on my thigh as though it belongs there. And perhaps it does. Is it too much to hope that Logan Astor may have been put on this earth to insert color into my monochrome life?
“I’m back on Saturday night, but it’s Jonas’ nineteenth, and the team is taking him out. I’m free Sunday, though, if you wanna grab dinner or something,” Logan converses, as though the ground didn’t monumentally shift beneath our feet.
“Sunday is good with me, but don’t feel like you have to if you’re tired or hungover or whatever. I’ll still see you on Tuesday.”
“I told you I want more than library dates and seeing you at my games,” he argues, giving my thigh a squeeze. “I don’t think you quite realize what you’ve gotten yourself into yet. I’m going to be that pesky little bug you can’t get rid of. The tick that latches on and refuses to let go. The puppy that endlessly follows you around.” I chuckle at his dramatics, but when he turns to pierce me with his intense stare, I realize he’s not entirely joking. “I don’t plan on going a single day without seeing your pretty face or hearing your sweet voice.”
Yup, I am officially done for when it comes to Logan.He knows precisely what to say to have me cracking open my chest, ripping out my heart, and handing it over to him on a silver platter.
“Okay. Sunday, then.” I fail miserably at hiding my smile as he pulls up outside the Halston dorms. It would have raised questions if I’d asked him to drop me off at the gate.
I go to open my door, but he calls out, “Wait. Stay there. Don’t move.”
Quirking a brow, I watch curiously as he hurries out of the car and jogs around the hood to open my door. He holds out his hand, helping me out with a stupid-ass grin on his face.
“You’re such a goof,” I tease, as he reels me into his arms and I press my hands against his firm chest.
“Your goof.” His large hand slides up and down my back, our teasing falling aside as the moment grows heavy.
“Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed myself.”
Tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, he murmurs, “I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you, and for a lot more than being my date tonight. Hockey has always been my one true passion. While pursuing that dream, I always believed I would have no time or energy to spare on anything else. Then you came along, and with each passing day, you’re proving me wrong.”
