“So,” he says, leaning casually against the doorframe, invading my space. The cedar cologne sharpens, pressing against my senses. “You’ll introduce me sometime, right? I bet Eli and I would hit it off.”
My body goes rigid as I feel the frown between my eyebrows. “It’s late, I should—”
“You’re right… nightcap?” Kieran reaches a hand out, tracing it up my arm and making my skin crawl.
“No, I don’t think that’s—”
“Come on. One more drink.” His smile curves, too smooth and confident as his hand grasps tighter on my upper arm. “We’ll talk hockey. You can give me all the inside stories—”
The slam of a door cuts him off.
Across the street, Logan steps off his porch. Hood up, Dusty’s leash looped tight in his fist. His stride is unhurried as he crosses the asphalt, but the air shifts around him, as though even the night knows better than to get in his way.
“She said good night.”
His voice isn’t loud, but it carries low and certain across the street.
Kieran startles beside me, then forces a laugh. “We’re just talking, man.” His gaze flicks over Logan, recognition sparking as his posture shifts. He smirks faintly, looking back at me. “Guess it makes sense, though. Another Storm guy on the scene.”
The words prickle against my skin, faint but sharp. I open my mouth to brush him off—
“Watch your mouth.”
Logan’s voice cuts in, low and dangerous.
Kieran lifts his hands in surrender, but he doesn’t move. “Relax, man. No harm meant. We were just about to head inside, grab a nightcap.”
Logan’s eyes don’t leave mine, cutting straight through the static buzzing under my skin. “Lu?”
The sound of my name in his mouth and the question hanging in the air send my pulse skidding. I shake my head in answer, throat dry.
Only then does Logan turn his head toward Kieran, jaw flexing as he takes him in. “Night’s over, bud. Take a hint. Go.”
The silence that follows feels heavy and stretched tight. Kieran mutters, shoves his hands in his pockets, and stalks back to his car. The engine revs, and tires squeal against the pavement as he speeds off.
I’m left standing on the porch, keys still clenched, breath shallow and uneven. Logan doesn’t move from the bottom step. He just waits, watching the red glow of taillights disappear into the dark. His shadow stretches long across the pavement as he turns to me, tethering me there, holding me in place.
“You good?”
The words are simple, but they land heavy and knock the breath out of me.
“I’m fine.” My laugh scrapes thin. “Really. No need to go full bodyguard.”
He doesn’t blink. “If they don’t listen when you tell them no? Then yeah. I do.”
My smile falters, heat rushing up my neck until it blooms hot in my cheeks. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t soften, doesn’t give me the out I’m searching for.
The silence extends, and we stand there, caught in whatever the hell this is; my body betraying me. Every nerve ending awakens, every sense is attuned to him—the way his voice lingers in my bones, the set line of his shoulders, the fact that he came across the street at all.
God, this crush is out of hand.
I quickly raise my hand in farewell, then turn toward my door.
Logan exhales once, sharp through his nose. “If I ever—” He cuts off, jaw flexing and shaking his head.
I whirl back around. “If you ever what?” My voice is barely a whisper.
His eyes flare, roaming my face, something hot and dangerous flashing before it shutters off. “If I ever see another guy put his hands on you like that…”
