I looked between the two of them. Maddie sidled closer to Chase, and Logan still looked like a butler. He had the cheesy grin and everything.
“Oh my gosh, fine.” I didn’t take his arm, but I did find it in me to apologize before Maddie had to chastise me again. “Sorry I was rude. It’s been a long week.”
“Hey, I get it,” Logan said as we turned down the baby aisle. “You’re losing both your friends.”
My breathing hitched, but I quickly recovered. “No, that’s—it has nothing to do with that. And I’m notlosingthem.”
Logan slowed, his eyes glazing over at the wall of colourful plastic. “Hm. Maybe not.”
That concession was worse than an argument. I chewed my lower lip, blinking against the pressure behind my eyes.Maybe not.This baby was going to come, then the three of us would bewith our respective families for Christmas, and then . . . it would be May before we knew it.
Maddie was pushing full steam ahead with her new Elite League and already had offers for analytics positions from companies scattered throughout Alberta. Chase had his coaching job with the Hitmen, so hopefully that would at least motivate them to stay local.
But was I really going to go over and hang out with them as is? Single? Would we go out to dinner just the three of us? Having Shar and Rob around was better, but it was always painfully obvious that I was the fifth wheel. The loser single friend.
“What are you working on right now?” Logan pulled a pack of size Newborn diapers from the shelf and inspected it.
“What do you mean?”
“Your art. You still do that, right?”
Nothing could have surprised me more than that sentence. “You know I do art?”
Logan nodded. “Wow. So I was that big of a dick.” He handed me a pack of diapers, then pulled two more off the shelves. “Do you think two newborns and one in a bigger size?”
“It seems like a lot of diapers.”
He handed me another pack. “Don’t babies poop like ten times a day or something?”
“That can’t be true.” That weight on my chest pressed deeper.What were we even doing?We were too young for this. For any of it. My fear for Sharla ramped up another ten degrees.
He shoved two more packs under his arm and called it good, motioning toward the front.
I adjusted the packs in my arms and blew out a breath. “You weren’t mean or anything. I just didn’t think you knew or cared what I was up to.”
Logan lowered his head, blocking his face with the brim of his hat, as we passed another couple in the aisle. As much as he said it wasn’t different to play for the Blizzard, I never saw him do that on campus.
“I was a little self-centred,” he said.
“Again with the past tense.”
Logan chuckled, and a smile slipped past my ice queen defences.
“I’ve been sculpting lately,” I answered his earlier question. “Right now I’m working on a series that explores structure and collapse.”
“Ah. Obviously. The . . . stuff that holds and then . . . doesn’t.”
I snorted. “I’ll submit that as my thesis.”
“What do you want to do with it?” he asked.
“My art?” I shrugged. “Creating’s mostly for fun. I want to land a curator or gallery assistant job after graduation.”
“Does that pay well?”
I shot him a look. “Nothing pays well compared to your job.”
Logan laughed. “How much do you think I make?”
