“Please don’t tell me I accidentally outed you when I said we were dating,” I say in a rush.
“No, I would’ve told you if that were an issue.”
I’m swept up by a wave of relief, and I sigh, closing my eyes for a brief second. “Well, that’s good. Because I literally didbroadcast it for all of the world and internet to see.”
Lifting my lids, I catch his lips twitch as he fights another smile. “No, it just kinda goes back to all that shit with Oakley. With our age difference, he obviously had a bit more time to figure out his sexuality. He told my parents he was gay long before I had any interest in dating and sex, let alone figured out I was bi. So by then, it just felt so fucking…” He trails off and shakes his head. “I don’t know. It sounds stupid, but it’s almost like I was still in his shadow even with that. Not good enough to be completely gay, so I only made it halfway there.”
I frown. “You know that’s not a thing, right?”
“Obviously, but…”
He doesn’t continue, but I’m able to fill in the pieces myself pretty easily.
But knowing that doesn’t stop the feeling from being there either.
The silence lingers, speaking more than words ever could, and the two of us don’t do much to break it. In fact, I’m about to head back upstairs, feeling the conversation is now over, when Logan decides to slice through it.
“Sorry for off-loading all that on you,” he murmurs, and I shake my head.
“Don’t be. I asked.”
One of his brows lifts dubiously. “You asked about hockey, and I basically trauma-dumped my entire childhood at your feet.”
“Trauma-dump or not, thank you. For sharing that with me, I mean.”
In truth, I couldn’t care less about what Logan’s sharing with me—the fact that he’s sharinganythingis a miracle in itself. This is the most he’s given me of himself or his upbringing. Until now, it’s been mostly one-sided. But him choosingthisto share with me, and seeing the similarities in how we were raised—the blacksheep who doesn’t quite belong—I feel a new sense of kinship with him. I just hope he feels it too; then maybe he’d lean into it rather than fighting it at every turn.
Or maybe I need to give him a reason to.
Shifting my weight off the counter, I drum my fingers on the cool surface, ready to make him another offer. “Tell you what. A bunch of guys from the team are going to this award thing—”
“Really?” he cuts in, looking up from his coffee.
“Uh, yeah. Your uncle is our coach, and both he and your dad attended Leighton. It’s a way of honoring their leg—” I cut myself short, realizing what I was about to say.
Though, to my surprise, Logan lets out a sharp laugh.
“It’s fine. I’m not gonna be triggered by you saying the word.”
I arch a brow, as if to ask,are you sure?Which, to my pleasant surprise, earns me the smallest hint of a smile.
“Okay, so, you’re going to this thing too…” he prompts, waiting for me to finish my original point.
“I was going to suggest we go together instead. I can attempt to be a buffer, and it gives us a chance to put this fake relationship to the test. If you’re up for it,” I say, tacking on the easy out for him.
It’s one I fully expect him to take by turning me down flat, or maybe brushing it off the same way he did with my offer to go to New York. I swear he’s attempting to find the right way to do just that as he stares absently at the wall, gnawing at his lower lip.
But then, shockingly he nods a few times and drags his attention back to me.
“Okay. Yeah. Let’s do it.”
I grin, feeling far more excitementthan I probably should for a fake date with my fake boyfriend, but I choose not to let my thoughts linger on that little fact, and shoot him a flirty wink instead.
“Be ready to have the hottest date there, Little Reed. I happento look damn good in a suit.”
Twelve
Logan
