“Thanks, angel. Tell Reed I said the same.” And with that, Logan strides out of my office and joins his friends, who all wave and shout their goodbyes to me. The office feels so much quieter and less full of life with them gone.
“That was interesting,” Bryson says, poking his head through my door.
“Was it?” I shrug.
“Mm-hmm. I wonder what prompted five of the most popular players on the team to bring coffee up to the office? I wasn’t sure they even knew we existed up here.”
“Who knows?” I say unconvincingly.
Bryse narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “Right. It’s a huge mystery.”
“I’m sure they were just being nice.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s it.” He chuckles before turning around and wandering back into his office, but the whole encounter leaves me feeling a little unsettled. Bryse and I have become friends. I hang out with his girlfriend regularly. Hell, he even throws off big brother vibes sometimes, so I know he wouldn’t throw me under the bus to Tess or anyone else at the organization about spending time with Logan. Still, I can’t help worrying that someone else will take issue with it.
I need this job.
I’ll have to be careful, and if things somehow progress past friendship with Logan, we’ll need to talk about keeping things quiet. Not that I really believe it will get to that point.
For now, I’ll just enjoy my caramel latte and the faint hint of vetiver and musk that lingers in my office from whatever cologne Logan wears. I can’t worry about what might happen with him in the future.
twenty-seven
BLAIR
“Blair-Bear, there’s a package for you.”Reed scrunches his face up as he walks into our apartment with a rather large package and a box of donuts from the little place down the street.
“I didn’t order anything.” Curiosity fills me with little zings of electricity.
Reed shrugs, handing me the box. “It’s got your name on it.”
While the box is quite large, it’s not overly heavy. There’s no indication of who it’s from, outside of the store name. “Who the hell sent me something from The North Face?”
My brother grabs a donut and takes a big bite. Little flakes of chocolate frosting fall to the floor, and I try not to be annoyed. “Did you sleep-shop?”
“No,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “That’s not a thing.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s not a thing for me, at least.” After I struggle with the well-taped box, Reed sighs and grabs a knife for me. “Thanks.”
I’m practically vibrating now, my curiosity getting the better of me, since I can’t imagine who would send me something fromsuch an expensive store. When I get the box open and remove a layer of paper, I suck in a breath.
“What is it?” Reed asks, looking over my shoulder. He better not be getting frosting crumbs in my curls.
“A coat,” I whisper. Warmth blooms in my chest and radiates out to fill the rest of me. “A really nice coat.”
Reed watches as I pull the charcoal-gray puffer coat out of the box and hold it in front of my body. It’s long, hitting mid-thigh, with a hood, and it looks warm without being overly bulky. When I just hold it out, staring at it, Reed clears his throat.
“Are you going to try it on?”
“Oh, right.” I feel like I’m in a daze as I pull it on and zip it up.
It fits perfectly.
“That’s a nice coat. But if you didn’t buy it, who did?”
“No idea,” I lie. Because I’m pretty sure I know who bought me this expensive coat. A certain hockey player who seemed very concerned that I hadn’t made time to get myself one yet. But why would he do this? And if hewasgoing to buy me a coat, why would he buy one that must have cost him at least a couple hundred dollars? I’d planned to go to an outlet store this weekend and find something on sale.
