“For real?” he asks.
“For real.” I lean back enough to look up at him. His hands stay firm on me, as though he won’t let me go unless I ask. “He said he regrets everything. He…he actually meant it.”
Logan’s eyes soften in a way that makes something inside me wobble.
“And he wants to meet you,” I add quietly, “as my boyfriend. Not as a teammate. Not as…anyone else.”
Logan’s breath leaves him in a rush, fogging the air between us.
“He said that?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
I nod. “Yeah.”
For a long moment, he just looks at me as if he doesn’t know what to do with this much hope all at once. Then he slides one big hand to the side of my face, thumb brushing under my eye where I know there are tear tracks. I probably look like a mess.
“Are you really okay?” he asks again.
I nod slowly, leaning into his palm. “Yeah. I am now.”
A choked laugh escapes him—relief, disbelief, and love all wrapped into that single sound—and he tugs me in again, burying his face briefly in my shoulder before breathing out against my skin.
“Good,” he murmurs. “God, that’s good. I’m happy he came around.”
I close my eyes for a beat, letting the cold fade into the background.
Then I lift my head from his shoulder and look up at him.
“Let’s go home,” I say softly.
Two fingers slide under my chin, tilting my face up so I’m forced to meet his eyes. And what I see there almost knocks the breath out of me—pure love. Deep and steady.
His smile is small, a little crooked, and entirely for me.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, thumb brushing lightly along my jaw. “Let’s go home.”
He keeps his fingers at my chin for another second, like he’s memorizing the moment, then drops his hand to lace our fingers together instead.
His palm is warm. Mine probably isn’t. He doesn’t let go anyway. We start toward the parking lot, footsteps slow, shoulders brushing every few steps like gravity keeps nudging us closer. When we reach his Jeep, he opens the door for me and then closes me inside as he drops his gear into the back.
Then he hops into the driver seat and starts the engine. He pauses before putting the Jeep into drive and leans over the console for a quick kiss. “I like the sound of you calling my apartment home.”
“Home is where your heart is, isn’t that what people say?” I ask with a grin.
He hums a happy sound and presses another kiss to my lips. “Then, I’m home right here in my Jeep with you.”
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter where we go, as long as we are together.”
He laughs under his breath, a soft, breathy sound that hits me right in the chest. His forehead almost brushes mine before he pulls back just enough to actually put the Jeep in gear.
We roll out of the lot slowly, tires crunching over slush. The heater starts blowing warm air over my legs, but honestly? I don’t need it. Not with the way Logan keeps sneaking glances at me like he can’t help himself.
He reaches across the console, palm open.
I slide my hand into his without thinking.
His fingers curl around mine immediately, thumb stroking lazy circles over the back of my hand. After a moment, he speaks again, voice low. “I do love you, Todd. The forever kind.”
I swallow hard, the emotion rising so fast it presses against my ribs, tight and warm and overwhelming. I turn my head just enough to see the side of his face—his steady profile, the way his jaw softens when he means something with his whole heart.
