Be home by six. We’ll grab dinner at the arena.
K.
I love you.
Bruh. My friends can see my phone.
I LOVE YOU, REEDY-POO!
OMG.
I’m going to keep saying it in more and more embarrassing ways until you say it back.
I LOVE YOU, MY SWEET LITTLE BABY BRO
I love you too, okay? Now can you stop? The guys did think I was cool because I have a bodyguard. Now they don’t.
Sorry, not sorry.
You’re the worst.
I know.
“What are you grinning about?”
I’d be more ashamed of the high-pitched scream I let out if I didn’t have a stalker, but I do, so I refuse to be embarrassedabout my reaction to Logan’s unexpected appearance. Pressing my hand to my chest, I glare at my boyfriend.
“You scared the shit out of me. Wear a bell next time.”
The skin around Logan’s gray eyes crinkles as he throws his head back and laughs. “Sorry, angel. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Yeah, well, you did.” My heart pounds in my chest, not having gotten the message that we’re safe yet.
Logan holds out a bag of takeout as a peace offering, his kissable lips quirking. “Will some falafel and fries buy me forgiveness?”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and Logan loses the battle with his smile. “I guess.”
“My girl is so benevolent.” He holds my eyes as he leans down and presses his lips to mine. “And beautiful.”
“I guess my boyfriend is okay. For a hockey player.”
“Ouch.” He chuckles, pressing another kiss to my lips before dragging a chair up to my desk and pulling the food out of the bag. “How’s it going today?”
“Good. Just a normal day. Well, outside of Reed texting me to ask if his bodyguard was allowed to chauffeur him and a few friends to the mall.”
“He’s really living it up right now, huh?”
“Of course he is. He’s a thirteen-year-old boy who recently moved. He’s going to use every opportunity to look cool to his advantage.” I steal a glance at my boyfriend as I grab a fry. “You and the guys coming to his games certainly doesn’t hurt.”
Logan comes to as many of Reed’s games as he can, and one or all of the guys from his team have come with a couple of times. I know part of it is to be there in case something weird happens with our stalker, but mostly, they just have way too much fun cheering on a bunch of eighth graders and drawing attention to themselves. Which is fine. The cat’s out of the bag where Loganand I are concerned, and all the Southwest Junior High fans and family know about him.
To their credit, everyone is very cool about a bunch of hockey players showing up to games. Every once in a while, someone will ask for a selfie or an autograph, but for the most part, they just smile at Logan and the guys and leave us alone. It’s Reed’s teammates that end up fan-boying the hardest, which is adorable.
“You’re coming to the game tonight, right?”
I hum around a mouthful of falafel. “Wouldn’t miss it. Travis is going to drive us to the arena. I told him he could leave after that because you’d drive us home. That’s cool, right?”
“Of course. I thought I’d stay over again if that’s good with you?” Logan looks up at me through his dark blond eyelashes as he leans over and takes a big bite of his lunch.
