The one saving grace of this event was that the Outlaws hockey team and seniors in my major were invited. Plus, Logan hadn’t arrived yet. Winning all around.
I grinned as Maddie appeared in the doorway. She waltzed over with Chase in tow. “This looks amazing!”
I laughed and gave her a hug. “It better. I’m getting paid by the hour.” Really, I hadn’t been given much responsibility. Witha few midterms last week, I didn’t have spare time, and since I was now aware Norman needed me for more than my work ethic, I didn’t hesitate to tell him so. “How’s Shar?”
“Blissful. Not getting much sleep.”
“As expected.” I was planning to stop over after the event.
“Crystal.” Norman materialized at my elbow. “There you are. I’ve been telling the Dean of Fine Arts that you’re the model of the Douglas–Marcus partnership.”
Terrifying sentence. “Oh. Thank you.”
The Dean, a tall woman in a blazer that cost more than my tuition, smiled. “We’re thrilled you’re involved. This kind of student engagement in the community is exactly what we’re hoping to inspire.”
I nodded, keeping my thoughts to myself on that one. Douglas hadn’t done a damn thing to help me connect with the art community. Well, except give Logan a scholarship.
“Don’t forget to circulate with the other art students,” Norman murmured. “We’ll be doing some selection for the opening show. Eyes open, ears open.” Then, louder for the benefit of the photographer now creeping closer: “We’re excited to find more student artwork to feature in our opening exhibit . . . ” He walked away, herding the press toward more important people than me.
The tables were filling up, and I quickly found my happy place. Rob, Maddie, Axel, Rory, and the rest of the team who weren’t in class or asleep sat at two rounds near the back corner. The guys looked weirdly cleaned up. I hadn’t noticed before, but Rob was in a button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, freshly shaven.
Just like my moment with Logan, I suddenly saw him as grown.He was a father.I had to shake my head at that one.
“You okay?” I asked, pulling out the chair next to Maddie.
She nodded. Rob smiled so wide it almost split his face. “Forgot to tell you. Carter smiled this morning.”
“Wow,” Axel said. “Peak.”
“Shut up,” Rob said, but he was grinning.
I picked up the conversation where we’d left off before Norman interrupted. “How’s Chase?”
“Busy. He—” Maddie stopped mid-sentence as the noise in the room changed. The doors opened and in walked . . .
Holy shit.
Logan walked in first, donning a grey suit, black shirt with the hint of a scoop neck, looking like he’d wandered off a billboard. Behind him was Davis Rourke, the Blizzard’s hotshot twenty-two-year-old winger with a charcoal Henley, pants that hugged his incredible rear end, and a face that made half the city forgive him for never backchecking. And anchoring the trio was Mark Haines, veteran defenceman, salt-and-pepper hair, jawline that could cut glass, and the kind of status that comes with a Stanley Cup ring. Twice over.
The room reacted instantly. Heads were on swivels. Conversations stalled. A girl in a Douglas hoodie grabbed her friend’s arm like all three of them were walking on water.
“A little overkill, eh?” Axel muttered.
Rory licked his thumb and tried to wipe Axel’s face like a mom. Axel reacted like he’d just walked into a spiderweb.
Rory chortled. “Stop, you’ve just got a little green on your face. I’ll get it for you!”
Axel nearly fell out of his chair, and Maddie had to grab his arm to keep him upright.
Logan skimmed the room, and when his gaze landed on me, his mouth tipped into that quick, easy smile. It slipped a little when he saw who I was sitting with, but he leaned over and said something to Rourke, then followed the edge of the room and headed our way.
Good for him.
“Hey,” he said when he reached our table, hands sliding into his pockets.
“Surprised you can do that,” I teased, pointing at his pants.
Rob stifled a laugh.
