I snort, forcing out a laugh that tastes of metal. “Don’t say my name like that. It’s normal. Been like that as long as I can remember.”
“But… after every game?”
“Yeah. He watches every one, then calls to tell me how I fucked up. Prefers to watch from home so he can replay all my failures.”
Her brows knit tight, eyes shining. Then her hand slides over, threading her fingers through mine resting on the console. She lifts them to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to my knuckles, holding them there as though she’s trying to stitch something back together.
It hits somewhere I don’t let anyone touch. For a second, I want to close my eyes and let the warmth sink in.
Instead, I clear my throat, a sharp smirk in place to cover the hollow in my chest. “Seriously, Lu. At least the man’s consistent. I’ve got Dusty for unconditional love.”
She doesn’t laugh, just watches me, eyes too soft, too much. It makes my grip tighten on the wheel until my knuckles ache.
Finally, she places our still threaded hands back on the console, but keeps hers there, as though she knows I’ll never ask for it out loud.
“You played amazing tonight, Logan,” she whispers. “My voice went hoarse chanting your name. That goal was incredible.”
The words sink in like balm on a burn, and it hurts how much I need them. I stare straight ahead, throat thick, pretending I don’t. Pretending I don’t want to keep her hand right there forever.
She exhales softly. “Kills me even more now, you know.”
I glance over, frowning. “What does?”
“That I can’t wear your jersey.” Her voice is quiet, almost shy, but her thumb keeps stroking over my knuckles. “I want you to have someone in the stands with your name on their back. Someone who’s not counting failures, but celebrating every incredible thing you do out there.”
She looks down, teeth catching her lip, and my chest twists so hard I have to tighten my grip on the wheel.
I want to tell her I don’t give a shit, that I’d put my name on her back tomorrow if she let me, but Eli’s face flashes in my head like a warning siren.
So instead, I roughly squeeze her hand back, letting the silence hold everything I can’t say.
When we turn onto Birch, I pull into my driveway and kill the engine. Before she can reach for the handle, I’m out and opening her door. She rolls her eyes, but I offer my hand anyway.
“Logan—”
“Not letting you cross alone at night, Lu.”
She sighs, but her fingers slip into mine anyway. We stroll across the street and up her path, the night quiet except for the crunch of gravel. The porch light halos her hair when she turns back to me, jacket pulled tight, cheeks pink from the air.
It hits me all over again, how much I want this. Not just sneaking her into my bed. This. Her.
And I can’t help it, I lean in and kiss her.
It starts soft, just the brush of my mouth over hers, but she sighs against me, and it unravels something I can’t leash. Her mouth is soft, and I lose myself in it, pressing her gently against the door as she clutches the lapels of my game day suit.
“I should go,” I murmur against her lips.
She shakes her head, fingers curling tighter. “I don’t want you to.”
That undoes me. I crush my mouth back to hers, tongue sliding, holding her face because I can’t get close enough.
When I finally drag back an inch, I rest my forehead on hers. “We can’t risk it, Lu. Not after nearly getting caught the other afternoon.”
“I know.” Her voice is small, but her eyes don’t leave mine. “I just hate it.”
“Me too.” I kiss her again, then pull back just enough to see her eyes wide and luminous, her pink lips shiny under the light. It’s nearly enough to make me change my mind.
But if Eli caught me slipping out of her house in the morning, it’d be a bloodbath.
