Page 91 of Frozen Hearts
“And how do you know I was withanyonelast night? You said you were driving by and saw me walking.”
He gives a casual shrug, except I see right through it. “Okay, so I drove past and saw you two standing outside Lux. You looked uncomfortable so I pulled over and waited until he left. When I saw you walking home, I knew I had to come rescue your ass.”
“I did not need rescuing,” I fume, choosing to overlook the fact he noticed I was uncomfortable with Ben and stopped. There’s too much to unpack from that, and I know it will only raise more questions and leave me even more confused about Logan and what I mean to him. What he means to me.
“Don’t change the subject, Riley. Who is he?”
Sighing, I don’t see the point in keeping the answer from him. Turning to stare out the window, I explain, “That’s Ben. He’s the manager.”
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t dare look his way.
“Is he a good manager?”
There’s a sharpness behind his question that belies the casual way in which he asks it.
“Yup,” I answer with a quality that makes it clear I don’t want to discuss Lux or Ben any further.
“Is Tara working next weekend?”
“Yup.”
I haven’t actually checked, but I do not needthisto become a regular thing. I don’t know his angle, or if his conscience simply won’t allow him to let a woman walk home alone in the dark, but my heart is still in tatters. It would take very little for the traitorous organ to forgive him and allow him back into our lives.
His scent alone is weakening my resolve.
I once again feel the probing of his eyes on me, but I continue staring out the window.
“Are you lying to me?”
Okay, now that accusation—even if sort of true—is enough to have me whipping my head around to glower at him. “It’s really none of your damn business,” I snap. He’s the one who is trying to insert himself into my life—after already choosing to remove himself from it. I’m not a fucking door. He can’t come and go as he pleases. “Why have you not been playing as well recently?” I fire, deflecting from the ire burning in his eyes.
His body tenses, facial features going rigid as his hand tightens on the steering wheel.
“Who says I haven’t?”
I shrug. “People talk.”AndI may have looked it up after he told me they lost last nights game. Turns out that’s not the only game they’ve lost recently. The fire the Huskies had at the beginning of the season seems to have gone out, and they haven’t been playing as well recently.Loganhasn’t been playing as well. The question I want to know is, why?
His teeth grind.
“So… have you?” I ask when he doesn’t answer.
“What?” he snaps.
“Been off your game?”
“No.” The word is barely more than a snarl as he glares out the front windshield. However I catch the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, and he stretches his neck from side to side, clearly uncomfortable.
His annoyance leaves us sitting in a tense silence for the remainder of the journey, and as I push open the car door, I sort of feel bad for poking at him.
Standing on the sidewalk, I hesitate before closing the door as I stare at his stiff posture. He refuses to look at me, and after a moment I sigh.
“For what it’s worth, I hope you figure out whatever is affecting your game.”
His eyes snap to mine, a whirlwind of indecipherable emotions I refuse to delve into as I slam the door closed and head into my building.
23
RILEY
