“Language,” Reed sing-songs from the middle of a queen-size bed as he tosses a football in the air.
“This is…”
“Awesome, right?” Reed sits up, beaming at me.
“Definitely.” The room is a teenage boy’s dream. It’s painted a rich navy blue. Football posters cover the wall above a good-sized desk, there’s a moderately sized TV on the wall across from the bed, a gaming system I never would have been able to afford, and a shelf loaded with games. A large22decal adorns the wall—Reed’s number—and there’s a cozy armchair in the corner flanked by bookshelves waiting to be filled.
“Logan.” His name cracks as I say it. I’m completely overwhelmed.
Asking us to move in wasn’t just an impulsive decision he made because some crazy stalker scared the shit out of us. It wasn’t something he felt obligated to do.
This was planned. Carefully executed. Well-thought-out.
These aren’t actions of a man unsure about where we stand in his life. This isn’t a man merely flirting with the idea of commitment.
“I love you,” he murmurs, drawing me into his arms. “Both of you. You’re my family now, and I’m never letting you go.”
I try to hold back the strangled sob. I really do. But it escapes, along with a few fat, salty tears, and then it’s not just Logan’s arms around me, but Reed’s too.
“It’s okay, Blair-Bear. It’s all going to be okay now.”
And for the first time since our parents died, I really believe it.
fifty-two
LOGAN
“Pay up,”Griffin crows, palm out as we get changed after practice.
“What?” I glare at him, but it only makes my friend laugh.
Maddox shakes his head but digs in his wallet. He slaps a hundred into Griffin’s waiting palm with a frown. “I can’t fucking believe you were right.”
“Never should have bet against you,” Ryder says. He lets out a big sigh as he also hands over a hundred dollars.
I turn to Bash, but the goalie shakes his head. “Don’t look at me. I don’t make bets about my friends’ love lives.”
“I told you guys he’d ask her to move in before they had their six-month anniversary. But this is earlier than even I thought it would be.”
“You guys are the worst.” I hold my hand out. “Now give me my cut, since I was the subject of your bet.”
“Hell no!” Griffin shoves his winnings down his boxer briefs. Right next to his dick. “You’ll have to come and get it.”
“You’re so fucking gross. You have no idea where that’s been.”
“In Mira,” Griffin croons.
“Dude. How many times do I have to tell you not to make sex jokes about my little sister when I’m in the room?” Maddox punches his brother-in-law in the shoulder, a look of pure disgust twisting his features.
“She’s my wife, bro. You gotta know we’re doing it all the time. Hell, she’s hornier than I am.”
“I’m going to kill you.” Maddox takes an ominous step toward Griffin, who sidesteps him with a giggle—an honest-to-god giggle—before hiding behind Sebastian.
“Save me, Bashy.”
“Children. Can we focus? We’re supposed to be figuring out when we can all help move Blair and Reed.” Ever the levelheaded one, Bash wrangles everyone back into some semblance of control. Or, at least, controlled chaos.
“Thanks, man. Obviously they’ll need a few days to pack, and we have that away series at the end of the week, so I was hoping you could all make Sunday work? I know we’ll be tired from traveling home, but I don’t want Blair and Reed to miss work or school.”
