“Okay, good. Because he might be charming, but I don’t need anyone messing with your heart anymore after it was already throttled by ‘he who we shall never speak of again.’”
“Oh…yeah. No.”
And that, more than anything, makes my heart ache. It feels good to have a big brother in my corner.
I watch as Logan makes a diving play on screen, the crowd in the stadium roaring.
He looks invincible.
“So honey,” Val asks me. “What are you gonna do in town?”
I shrug. “Not sure, honestly. I left my corporate job recently. I have a little bit of savings right now. I’ll have to figure something out, though.”
“Well, what do you wanna do?”
I sip my drink, and my eyes drift to my notebook, where I’ve been brainstorming ideas.
“I honestly…don’t know. I’m open to the universe.”
“Well, if you ever want to come chat…I’m your gal. Friendly local bartender at your service.”
Jackson nods. “Val’s the best. Ivy and I come here whenever we get a night off from the kids.”
“Much appreciated.”
That night, I head to bed, close my door, and make sure I’mfastasleep before Logan gets home.
This isn’t the time to get distracted. I’ve been too lenient with letting Logan get in my head.
That stops now. No more…friendly showers. No more flirting. For real this time. Boundaries.
Chapter Fifteen
LOGAN
The house is dark when I get home.
There’s no porch light on and no noise. Just the soft creak of the screen door as I step inside, and the faint scent of citrus and vanilla that always seems to linger when Cassie’s been around.
We won. And I played pretty well despite my nerves. I didn’t bat well, but my fielding was on point.
I should be on a high, buzzing from the lights, the crowd, and the adrenaline. But instead, all I feel is a slight notion that something is off.
I head upstairs, toe off my sneakers, and glance down the hall. Her bedroom door is closed, a towel draped over the handle like a soft little barrier. A signal. I lift my hand, and I almost knock.
Almost.
Instead, I go downstairs, grab a beer from the fridge, crack it open, and step out onto the back porch.
It’s quiet out here. Crickets chirping, stars overhead. The field beyond the yard is lit faintly by the moon, and I sink into the old wooden bench like my body suddenly remembers it’s tired.
I take a sip and exhale slowly.
The game ran through me like muscle memory. Like my body knew what to do even when my brain was somewhere else entirely.
Like when someone in the locker room asked if I had a girl back home.
I hesitated too long. Not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I didn’t want to say no.
