K-k0129

By the second period you were unsure if you were simply aching or if either side had given up on sportsmanship and were playing with much more vicious grit. Preferring a rigorous spectacle despite it ending in some sort of punishment from the referee. You moved with seamless rhythm after the colliding of sticks, the puck remained in your grasp as you weaved through the neutral zone and managed to dodge some of the defenders.

The pain had reached you long after the initial reaction.

One of Briar's Falcon's shoved with less sensibility and more fury into the glass as the puck left your control. Attempting to swerve away from the previous collision, one of your teammates managed to pass to you. Guiding the puck with your heel and blade, you managed to shoot with the last amount of energy you had in the second period.

Your teammates were colliding into you before you managed to watch the lights flash red. The feeling of your side throbbing with pain, and the distant ambience of the crowd's eruption of pride dispersed into a mild murmur as you blocked out the atmosphere of sound. Once you became absorbed by the game, there was no way of pulling you out.

The score board hung the names of Briar and Harvard, measly flickering the numbers 3-4 as it too attempted to keep up with the game. The competition proving to have such tension that each time you looked back at the scores you were losing track of who was in the lead - despite your recent addition to the tally.

Logan wasn't failing to keep track.

He knew that with every score for Harvard, the puck was bruised with the strength of your shots. Logan couldn't determine when he first had his eyes on you, but ever since they did he had no chance of stopping. His perception of you was analytical at first, noting the quickness to your movements, and the conscious decisions of where to exert your force and where to maintain energy throughout the game. Slowly, he found himself simply in awe of your capabilities, unable to refrain from observing how you darted from each zone with such ease. The aggressive undertones of your play, the recklessness of your shoves, the gracefulness of your skating. Almost as though it was bubbling down into some feeling of pride.

"Fuck she's pretty good" Dean murmured, a hand brushed upon his bottom lip as he held himself forward in his chair, eagerly noting the nature of your game to Garrett seated to the right of him. "I mean Briar's definitely got one to beat, we're practically rooting for the wrong team here G".

But Logan wasn't rooting for Briar, unbeknownst to him, he was rooting for you.

It was then that Dean turned to face Logan, noticing his inability to conjure his usual quick response in return. "You good Logan?" he queried, he moved his face to reside beside Logan's, a knowing smile enveloping his appearance.

"Yeah, nah I'm fine", his eyes remained transfixed. He spoke up quickly, his arms resting upon his spread legs as his hands were clasped. "Have you guys seen her play before?"

"I mean maybe, but I don't remember these games being that vicious", Tucker responded as he raked his hand through his hair, his eyes meeting with Dean's to note if he was sharing that same knowing look.

"She's fucking incredible".

He watched you with the subconscious hope that somewhere along the changing lines, in the exposure of the arena lights, that somehow you would see how much he was consumed by you even in the far back seating.

The boys had found it humorous that you and your team managed to take up such a fraction of much of their time. Initially intending to sit in on one period of tonight's game as a tasteful distraction from their own upcoming one against the men's team the day after. Instead they became drilled to their seats as wholly absorbed by the match. It was Tucker that had suggested it as a mere possibility under his breath, and Dean found no better idea than to allow Logan to have some time away from his own head. Rather than being caged behind his own presumptions of how Briar's winning strike may suddenly falter - especially as his position as captain - Logan felt now as though he was a onlooker to your own cage, housing a predator who knew how to toy with its prey.

But now, you looked less animalistic to Logan when you skated to the sides of the rink, amused with something one of your teammates had said that had allowed a slight smile to kiss your features. Your hair was stuck to the rest of your skin, adrenaline drenching your face in a thrilling high. Your eyes were lit with a subtle fire that he never wished to put out, only wanting to find home in the flame. He had only known of you for a total of about 45 minutes - it was pathetic.

You were quick to resume position once the 15 minutes of rest haltered, eager to finish the game with a potential win. Your captain had given you a firm pat on the back before you faced the Falcon's centre forward, the playful snarl on her face became more noticeable as the game proceeded. You cautiously watched the puck in referee's hand, a stillness that would have you ambushing the moment it dropped into play.

You held your breath as the puck dropped, quick to have it under your hold. You passed to your teammate once a spot reopened from the opposition's right defensemen, quick to move yourself away from the potential pileup. Your teammate passed onto the team's left forward, the contact of sticks ringing in your ears as the puck scampered to each zone of the rink. You were trying to keep up with the amount of time you had left in the third period, of ' 4 more minutes ', more than you were of your position within the space.

Your ribs found home again on the walls of the rink yet again, shoved mercilessly into the side as you knew your skin would blossom into a gruesome bruise in the upcoming days. Briar's centre forward surely had it out for you in the game, her snarl now contorting to some form of fury. You could hear a muffle of dissatisfaction from your team resting on the benches, and the onlookers alike, slamming her back into the wall yourself as you resumed to the oncoming game. Logan could appreciate your restlessness.

The defence managed to haul off for majority of the game, your left forward operating with the right forward as if clockwork, both of your teammates managing to assist in a final score. The arena lights imbued in a crimson haze over the rink, simultaneous to the eruption of the crowd. The score board flickered a humble 4 second countdown as your team collided in the middle of the ice. The boys were quick to stand, their hands cupping together in a reckless uproar, chanting out to Harvard despite the blue and red decor that hung on from Tucker's and Dean's jerseys.

"Fuck, the girls put on a good fight but Harvard's got it," Garrett muttered, a hand meeting Logan's shoulder as he leaned closer, an attempt to be made clear amidst the chaos of cheering.

"She's got it" he uttered in returned. His eyes opened in awe and triggered his crooked smile, he didn't even have to say who you were to know which player he was talking about. A smirk captured Garrett's face before he knew how to make sense of what he was seeing.

"I mean you should talk to her, maybe you can mention how well she plays" he teased.

Logan continued to fix his vision of only you, planning how he would talk to you already in his head.

"I don't think she needs me to remind her, she knows it".

The adrenaline was still making home within your system as you were unable to shake the smile that had glossed over you, washing you with a warm essence that cut through the violence of your play. You were one of the last to leave the rink having been a little while since the match had ended - determining whether it was time to finally leave the wash of arena lights and to commemorate with the rest of the team. In the mean time you lazily traced figure 8's in the ice; the same patterns you would scratch softly into the back of your palm before a game.

You hadn't looked up in a while before you heard someone clear their throat.

"Fuck how long have you been staring for?" you jabbed, curiosity poised your reaction as your eyes remained fixed on auburn irises.

They darkened when he scoffed a smirk towards the floor away from the illumination of lights; a crooked smile enabling his eyes to crease with a gentleness. You would be lying if you said the guy standing before you wasn't handsome; noting the few loose curls of his unruly hair that fell to frame his face, an effortlessness that subdued his boyish charm. You noted his broad shoulders that coupled with his height, managing to stand above you despite the additional height of your skates. His hands were nested in the pockets of his leather bomber.

"Long enough to say you're pretty good"

The smile met your eyes before you could be subtle. You could notice him analysing you too, his eyes raking over you as he shyly bit his lip, a smirk forming.

"Hey, aren't you the captain for Briar? I've seen you guys play a few times, I admit you're one to watch", you skated towards the edge of the ice, the gate of the rink sitting as a humble middle ground between you both.

"You think I'm one to watch?" he grinned as his cockiness was diluted with his charm, he extended a hand before you, "Logan".

He addresses you by the name on the back of your jersey, hesitant to be invading your territory despite it being within Briar University's own rink. You grinned in return, you thought it was thoughtful that he had taken notice.

You corrected him with your first name. He repeated it back to you, it sounded like such a sweet sound as it made home in his voice - almost as if he too was reminding himself in fear of forgetting the name of the girl who had his chest tightening for the entire match.

"I'll see you for tomorrow's game?"

"What makes you so certain that I'll be there?"

"I know you will".

For once you appreciated the arrogance of a man, amused by his boldness to assure that you too would be watching him as fervidly amidst a sea of onlookers for his upcoming game, as you are in the proximity you both now.

"In fact. If I win, I want you at the party tomorrow where I might see you, like this, again". Your eyebrows furrowed and yet still the smile hadn't left your face. He continued.

"And if you win—"

"I did fucking win. I don't know if you've managed to score anything before, but that was a good fucking win", you somehow managed to get closer to him, the front of your body resting upon the gate.

"I know you did," he murmured in a softer tone, his head lowering to be in closer proximity to yours, satisfied he could get right under your skin. "I mean since you won, I guess you'll just have to see if we manage to score something too."

"I'll be shocked"

"You will be," he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours, "I'll make sure".

He had walked backwards a few steps, with a sly smile linking with the slight wave he gave you, turning away from the rink. Suddenly you were more piqued for the game tomorrow than you were a few moments ago.

The coolness of the rink failed to provide any lasting relief from the flush of heat that you felt upon your entire body. You managed to find a spot to watch that gave you enough access to see the Briar Hawk's entrance into the game, eager to see what sort of expression or nature Logan would emulate within today's match. Eastwood, much alike the Briar Falcon's the day prior were proving to be notable threats to the reign of both of your successes - but now that you were away from the vicious exposure of the rink, you could keep yourself entertained by Logan's request.

The atmosphere was thickened with the crowd's desire to watch a fair fight, you noticed the myriad of onlookers who had round up for the competition, some adorned in the same blue and red colours and university hoodies. From the echos of the audience and the adrenaline that would rampantly kick in a few minutes before the match, you were keen to see Logan's drive more intimately.

The crowd had introduced you to them before you noticed their arrival. The screams cascading down from the top of the seating all the way to the ones closest to the ring, as you watched the ensemble of Briar Hawk's entering. Number 66, whose cocky smile seemed to run deep within his bones, cheered loudly at the sight of the fans, 'Tucker' skating shortly behind as he seemed eager to have the game over and done with, with how assured he was of a win. More had slotted through that you had quickly washed over, watching them slot into their line positions before you finally caught sight of him.

His gaze was lowered, and you admired how he felt wholly consumed by the game before it had even begun. The Eastwood team skated onto the scene, lining themselves up as the referee prepared for the start. 'Graham' had skated towards the centre the rink and you noticed how Logan's eye line had lifted, not to onlookers his competitors but to subtly onlookers who was sitting in on the match.

The puck was in Briar's grasp before Eastwood even had a moment to spare.

The time of the clock followed the pacing of the match as Graham passed to Tucker, nimbly avoiding the aggression of Eastwood's defence as the puck was shortly sent to Logan, finding a short gap against the defence to manage the first score. The crowd erupted just as you did, hands clasping together as a full smile enveloped your expression - so he could score.

You found his ease most amusing, the ability to find himself at full force and no hesitation throughout the match. Darting from either side of the rink, you noticed how more and more he found himself attempting to 'carelessly' funnel through the onlookers - his teammates noticed his unusual hesitation, calling out to him amidst the collision of bodies against the glass. Both your matches in the past few days were pretty gruesome. It wasn't that Logan was falling behind, in fact he was playing much more efficiently than prior, but they wondered what had triggered the change.

It was now the second period and Briar were standing in favour of a 4-2. Garrett's managed the puck in his control, moving swiftly in the neutral zone. His attempt to pass the puck onto Logan fell short when Eastwood's right forward managed to snipe it from him.

"You're good G!" Logan beckoned, quick to follow the forward as Dean managed to retrieve the puck, swiftly landing back in Logan's line of sight.

A loud shove shuddered against the wall, Logan found himself no longer in control of the ice but landing squarely against the edge of the rink. The crowd raged at the contact. Unfortunately acting before he had time to think, Logan's fist came in contact with the cheek of Eastwood's left forward, a slight cut now evident on Logan's lip. As much as violence was nothing to be admired, you did admit it was hot to see how clean the blow was.

Eastwood managed to score whilst Logan's back was turned, the lights imbuing a deep crimson over the arena much like the one that was trickling down Logan's chin. The scoreboard shoved the numbers of 4-3 down Briar's throat as the second period came to a close. The teams returned back for their rest break. Logan's jersey clung to his back as you watched him return back to the wall, holding your breath when he lifted his arm to brush the curls from sticking to his forehead, a gap of his toned torso became expose. He was a sight for sore eyes when he resided back with Dean and Tucker, Logan's eyes were trained on the floor as Dean playfully punched the latter in the arm.

Auburn eyes seemed to remain home in yours.

John Logan had finally spotted you after yet another attempt to frivolously scan through the people, his gaze softened when he had found that you had actually shown. You both shared a knowing smile, unable to determine if it was something sweeter or a playful smirk between the pair. Despite being exhausted from the violent shoves, the cutting through ice, and the strength of the scoring, Logan managed to regain much more of his strength in the final sector of the match.

There were only a few minutes remaining on the clock, Eastwood still being able to possibly manage a tie if they found a way to tear against the tension of Briar. The third sector became a drawn out match of the puck moving between the teams, never finding enough lead to gain either side a score for the period's entirety. Briar was slowly finding a rhythm to their play, working with the quickened pacing of the match. Garrett regained the puck from Eastwood's forward, finding a spot that the left forward and right defence had left exposed for him to send off to Logan. Moving with a sort of effortlessness, you couldn't help but encourage him under your breath.

'Fuck Logan, come on'

Avoiding the final left defence of Eastwood's team, he sent the puck straight into the goal as if a bullseye on a dart board. The crowd erupted in a final applaud, and amongst the moving of bodies and the collision of Briar's team coming to boost Logan's ego for the 5-3 win, he mannered his arms to as if an archer ready to shoot an arrow.

Right directly at you.

You knew what he was thinking. He would get to see you tonight.

He didn't need any pregaming to put him in the mood. The boy's house was a bustling nonsense of hockey players and any one else who was driven by the allure of alcohol and late nights, the scent of musk and liquor carried throughout the house. The music permeated the walls of the house, a makeshift floor inhabiting the bustling bodies that moved in a shameless wonder. Logan found himself at home amidst people, no longer absorbed in fair-weather conversation, or friendly smiles between puck bunnies and mere enthusiasts of the sport, but instead hoping to exchange in more intimate discussion with someone who he was expecting to meet.

His thoughts were disrupted by Dean, making out with Allie on the kitchen counter.

"Logan, isn't she your girl?" he snickered as Allie began giggling beside him, Dean tilting his head to motion towards the living room floor.

Logan let out a slight chuckle before facing himself towards where he was pointing.

He found you from the other side of the room, dancing to the cadence of the music Garrett had rummaged through earlier. There was a natural ease to your movement, much alike how you played on the ice he could see how the music felt home in your bones and percolated grace throughout you. The student bodies around you moving with a similar pulse.

You had felt eyes upon you, moving your gaze to land on the same guy who remained poised in your mind for the past 24 hours. It wasn’t a tipsiness, but enough liquid courage to have yourself staring into his eyes before your knees weakened. The remnants of your drink remained in your hand, you took a sip of the beverage as the taste of liquor fell down your throat, analysing how he moved pass the bodies of people and meeting you in the middle.

You thought he would say something in response. Instead he had looked at the can in your hand, pausing before taking it into his grasp and taking a sip; involuntarily kissing where your lips had fallen earlier and not moving his gaze from yours. Your eyes both coaxing the other to see who might give in first to temptation.

He began to move behind you, his calloused hands resting on your hips and swaying with you gently, he leaned down to fit within the crook of your neck.

"Is this where you want me?" he whispered, you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. You could feel himself getting harder beneath you.

You turned around to face him, his hands still remaining at your side.

"What's wrong Logan, all bark for the game and no actual bite?"

You didn't know if the alcohol was buzzing within your veins or if the adrenaline was having a hard time wearing off but you couldn't help the feeling that subsided in your core. He managed to get even closer now, his smile something that had you weaker in the knees. His eyebrows playfully furrowed before he spoke.

"You want me to show you?"

He smiled against your lips before kissing you, the taste of liquor still sweet upon his tongue. You moved against one another with a tenderness, something even better than you found yourself imagining in the lead up to finding him here. Logan was the craving you were desiring, holding him with both palms by his jaw as he exhibited a low grunt from you.

He was the first to pull away, you watched as a slight smile developed at how eager you both were. His eyes elicited something more sultry, lowering his speech.

"Not here," he beckoned, his hand clasping your own as he lead you through the house, looking back at you each time you entered a new hallway.

You didn't need long before you resumed, already knowing what to do as he used his back to slam his bedroom door behind him, having you pin onto him in a matter of moments. The kiss was able to become everything you both wanted it to be, manically operating against another with a pure frustration you were not upon each other sooner. His hands gripped your hips as you nimbly moved against him, a moan escaping your lips that earned a slight grunt to bellow from his mouth in return.

He titled his head slightly, enabling you to deepen the kiss as your hands gripped the nape of his hair, fingers desirably raking through his curls. You let out a soft whimper under your breath as he cupped your jaw, pulling away slightly to kiss the corners of your mouth and cascade down from your neck and sternum.

You were responsive to the way he would slightly bite on your tender skin, marking what would surely become love bites in the coming days. A roughened look adorned his features as you spoke.

"Fuck, Logan I've been wanting this", you muttered smiling as Logan came back up to kiss you.

"Tell me what you want baby"

"I want you"

He smiled against your mouth, his hair in such a state that his curls fell to frame his features so gently. He looked so fucking hot. He pushed himself off the door and moved you backwards towards his desk, shoving what remained to fall on the floor as he picked you up slightly to sit upon the table. He worked with you to take off your top, allowing him access to litter kisses down your stomach. Adoring the body that you occupied, he eventually lowered himself to be level with your thighs.

His hands gripped softly at your skin, opening your legs slightly he peppered a kiss on your inner thigh, pulling down your skirt as he moved closer. His fingers moved your panties slightly to the side, slowly allowing two fingers to enter the slick of your core. Praying at the altar that was your hips.

"Fuck" you moaned, your eyes watching fervently as your mouth remained agape.

He began to quicken his pace as he watched you, "you like it?"

You nodded quickly as a smirk painted his expression, he began to hook his fingers as lust dripped from each time he spoke, "use your words".

"Fuck, yes Logan I do", your head tilted back in pleasure, his fingers hitting your spot as your arousal deepened with the contact.

"Eyes on me baby, I wanna see you",

You lifted your gaze to fall back onto him, "I need to feel you". A sudden strength spurred from you as you moved forward to take off his shirt, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he went to help you remove it. Deep crimson bruises permeated his skin as your nails raked over his toned torso. Your fingers moved slightly further south to his jeans, quickly working to undo the buttons, he stopped you quickly.

"Get on the bed"

You moved slowly to the mattress, slowly removing each remaining garment that was on you as Logan's eyes trekked over your curves, you watched as he did the same, his biceps flexing as he pulled his pants down his thick thighs to be in nothing but his boxers. You sat down on the mattress, moving backwards to lie down as Logan crawled towards you, pinning you down and boxing you in as your lips met once more.

You toyed at the fabric of his boxers, his member hard against your palm as you pulled his undergarments down. Your fingers wrapped around him and began to stroke down his length, his lips escaping a shudder as he closed his eyes.

"Baby, hang on. I want to feel you," he coaxed, waiting for your nod to grab a packet next to his bedside table, using his teeth to pull the condom from its back and slide it down onto himself.

His thigh sat between your own before he aligned himself against you, the initial thrust sending you both into a need for desperate carnality. You both elicited whimpers against one another, your legs moving to hook around his torso and deepen his access, as your nails racked down his back. He quickened his pace against you, overwhelmed by a need to pleasure you as much as himself. He groaned against you, the headboard of his bed colliding with the walls as your cries polluted the room with a neediness that he shared.

"You're so fucking perfect" he murmured into the crook of your neck, placing kisses against your shoulder and collarbone.

His eyes were thickened with lust as your pupils shared the same dilated appearance. The sensation of Logan inside of you became overwhelmingly needed, his thrusts moving to a restless rhythm as you began to move against him. The world beyond the walls of his bedroom subsiding into a careless afterthought of the action between you two. The movement of your bodies felt as though you could hardly determine where one ended and the other began, your hands remaining back in Logan's hair as you kissed him once again, your tongues moving together with the same ease of his thrusts.

Logan exhibited a sense of urgency as his breaths staggered, your pants becoming louder as you were both enclosing on your climaxes. The feeling was drawn out as his hips slammed against you, you felt yourself tightening around him. You gripped onto his shoulders as you removed yourself from his lips, your head falling back onto the pillow as you moaned in pure ecstasy - you were getting close now.

You could feel Logan getting closer too, pushing a few final thrusts as he felt you inclosing in on him, a final cry loosening from your lips as you felt yourself covered in a feeling of complete lust. Your eyes were coated in complete ecstasy as he watched you completely undo before him, shuddering himself as his head landed between the crook of your neck.

The two of you breathed onto each other softly, a short laugh bouncing between you from how content you were. The room returned to a quiet ease, the air sweet with musk and the scent of sex that sent you both into a subdued state. Moving to lie beside you, resting an arm behind the small of your back, Logan spoke gently.

"There was something about you, I just couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

You turned subtly towards him, kissing against his jaw in gratitude. You sat up in the bed, taking the blanket to cover up your lap.

"Logan, I should get going."

He looked at you puzzlingly, "stay for the night".

He sat up slowly too beside you, kissing slowly from your shoulder to the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"I have practice tomorrow"

"I'll drop you off in the morning, promise".

Despite not drinking much the night before, you were glad the River Lethe hadn't poisoned your memory of the night before. The memories of needy movement against one another, the rhythm of bodies, kissing the smile off of John Logan.

You hadn't imagined it would escalate to that point. Then again it was a good way to subside the aches you were feeling in your ribs, and where you were shoved mid game a few nights before. The adrenaline however would not falter, either the high was ecstasy or the man lying beside you, a muscular bicep engulfing you within its frame. 

You found that he too was slowly allowing the dew of the morning to wake him from slumber, a smile kissing his features as he noticed the weight in his arms was still you. Almost fearful that somehow you were a dream that had somehow slipped beneath the cracks. Logan didn't know what drug you were, but he knew he was high on the feeling.

It began to make sense considering how he had responded to your tone.

"Logan, I just want to say. I don't want this to mean anything".

His eyebrows furrowed as he couldn't help but feel a tinge of pain subside in his ribs. More than anything he experienced in last night's match.

"Was it something I did?"

"No, of course not you were, incredible," you giggled beneath your breath. You eventually found the words that were attempting to make sense in your head. "I just think we both can't afford to lose anything. I mean we hardly know each other, we don't need such a distraction."

Logan shook his head beside you, "I mean I'd be willing to do anything to see you again."

You found yourself also willing to do anything to see him again as well, only, you found yourself managing your self control more than the other person who occupied the bed. Your stubbornness would have to get the better of you.

"Give me your phone," you beckoned. Quickly opening his contacts to put in your number and name, "if you ever need anything, or want anything you can text".

He grabbed his phone back and began to type a message. Hearing the notification output softly on your phone you foraged for it, hidden beneath your pile of clothes from the night prior. You opened to find a new message from him.

Unknown Number: when can i see you again? Unknown Number: please.

You looked back at him, a cocky smile returned back to his face as his pupils remained dilated.

"How much time before practise?"

The music was already loud before Y/N even made it up the front steps.

It blasted through the walls hard enough to shake the windows while bodies crowded the porch, half the campus apparently determined to celebrate Briar’s hockey team latest win like they’d personally scored the goals themselves.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and glanced back at the three girls behind her. “This,” she said dryly, “is exactly how people get diseases.”

Her friend Chloe laughed. “Oh my God, stop acting like you’re above this. Your brother literally lives here.”

“Exactly,” Y/N replied. “I know what kind of diseases exist inside this house.”

Another girl, she didn’t even know beside her nudged Y/N’s shoulder excitedly. “Still can’t believe your brother’s Garrett Grant.”

“Graham,” Y/N corrected automatically.

“Whatever. The point is your family tree is carrying our social lives.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but she was smiling a little as she pushed the front door open.

Instant chaos. Bodies everywhere. Beer spilled on the floor already. Music too loud. People shouting over beer pong in the dinner table.

Home, basically.

“Baby G!”

Dean appeared first from the living room already drunker than he should. “There she is,” he announced dramatically. “My favorite Graham.”

“You say that every time just to piss Garrett off.”

“But I mean it every time.” he winked at her.

Dean immediately threw an arm around her shoulders and started pulling her through the crowd while her friends looked one second away from passing out from excitement.

Y/N heard one of them whisper: “Oh my God, that’s Dean Di Laurentis.”

She rolled her eyes. Poor girl.

“They are all freshman, Dean,” Y/N warned. “Behave.”

“I’m always behaving.”

The kitchen erupted into cheers suddenly as several hockey players stumbled in carrying cases of beer. And right in the middle of them. Logan.

Hoodie sleeves shoved up his forearms, curls messy under a backwards cap, and that lazy, effortless kind of confidence that made it seem like he belonged everywhere he stood. The warm glow from the kitchen lights softened the sharp edges of his face while he laughed at something one of the upperclassmen said, easy and unguarded for once.

Unfortunately for Y/N’s sanity, Logan always looked unfairly good without even trying.

Y/N’s friend beside her went completely silent. Then: “…holy shit.” one of them said.

Y/N snorted. Because ‘Yeah… holy shit.’ She thought

That was usually people’s reaction to Logan.

He looked up a second later, eyes scanning the room automatically before landing on her. And immediately smiled, walking towards them.

“Well, well,” he called over the music. “Graham brought friends.” His mouth curved into a smirk. He wasn’t interested in the girls at all, he just knew the comment would earn him an reaction from her, and for some reason, he never got tired of them. Like a boy annoying his crush on school because he doesn’t know how get her to notice him.

Y/N flipped him off instantly. “They’re innocent freshmen. Leave them alone.”

“I don’t want to be left alone,” one of her friends whispered weakly.

Dean and Logan chuckled. And Y/N rolled her eyes, but her gaze drifted back to Logan anyway. He looked different tonight.

Not physically, though the messy dark hair, flushed cheeks, and post-game confidence weren't helping.

No, it was something else.

Confidence was natural to Logan, but tonight it seemed different somehow. Brighter. Real. Not made up. Like he was carrying the energy of the entire arena with him.

Which, to be fair, he practically was. He'd scored a hat trick. The crowd had spent half the game chanting his name. The team had won because of him.

The worst part? He wore real confidence disgustingly well.

Y/N liked to think she knew better than most that Logan hid behind a smile. Behind the flirting, the confidence, the constant jokes, and sarcasm there was always something he kept carefully out of reach. A part of himself he rarely let anyone see.

But hockey? Hockey was different.

Hockey was the one place where nothing about him was rehearsed. There was no mask and not a carefully crafted version of John Logan. Just him. It was obvious in the way he moved on the ice. In the way his entire face lit up after a goal, a assist. In the pure, almost boyish excitement he could never quite hide after a win.

Whatever insecurities he carried, whatever demons he kept locked behind that easy smile, they disappeared the second he stepped onto the rink.

And maybe that was why Y/N enjoyed watching him play so much. Because for a few hours, she got to see the real version of him. The one who wasn't pretending to be anything at all.

As if sensing her staring, he glanced over.

"Careful, Graham," he said, pointing lazily at her with someone else's beer. "Keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna start thinking you're impressed."

Y/N snorted.

"It’s easier for me to walk barefoot through this kitchen.” she said sarcastically “You scored three goals and somehow became even more arrogant."

Logan grinned. Actually grinned. Like he'd been waiting for her to bring it up. And suddenly he looked pleased. Not because of the game. Because she'd noticed.

"So... you saw that?" He said, trying and failing to sound casual. The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Y/N stared at him and blinked.

"Logan."

"What?"

"My brother was playing."

Logan immediately regretted it. His smile melted instantly.

Of course she saw it. Her brother was the fucking captain of the team. Why the hell had he gotten excited in the first place? She watches practically every game. Like she'd been sitting in those stands watching him.

Idiot.

The stupid little spark in his chest fizzled out instantly. There it is, reality. He should've known better.

"Right," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah sure."

But then Y/N tilted her head slightly.

"and," she added, "you played really well."

Logan looked up surprised.

"What?"

"You did." She shrugged. "Three goals is kind of incredible, Johnny !"

For a second, he just stared at her.

Y/N fought the urge to smile but tried to hold it, keeping the cool girl character. Then break the character and finally smiled, when she saw his face light up again the exact moment the compliment landed.

He play it cool and was able to recover quickly.

"Well," he said, suddenly looking far too pleased with himself, "I am kind of incredible."

Y/N laughed and flipped him "Fuck off. I'm never complimenting you again"

Logan chuckled softly under his breath too. Too softly and naturally. Her friends exchanged looks and Y/N changed the subject.

“Where’s Garrett?” she asked.

“Somewhere upstairs with Hannah”

“Sounds right.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Garrett suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs.

He spotted Y/N instantly. Then spotted the freshmen girls behind her.

“Well,” Y/N sighed. “Speaking of the devil”

Garrett pointed directly at Logan before even reaching the bottom step.

“You.”

Logan blinked innocently. “Me?”

“Don’t try anything” throwing back to the conversation they had days ago in his room.

Y/N laughed innocently.

And Logan… Logan just grinned slowly like Garrett’s threats had become background noise years ago. Before he could say anything to defend himself Y/N spoke.

“Relax, Johnny wasn’t flirting with them…” Y/N said innocently. Then she paused. “…yet.”

Logan looked offended immediately. “That’s slander.”

“That’s experience.”

Dean chuckled somewhere behind them while Garrett looked one second away from developing a stress-induced migraine. Y/N ignored all three of them.

“Anyways,” she continued, turning toward the girls beside her, “come meet my brother since apparently he’s, like, a celebrity or something.”

“Oh my God,” Chloe whispered, panicking instantly.

Garrett groaned. “Y/N—”

Too late. Y/N grabbed his wrist and physically pulled him forward into the circle of freshmen girls despite his resistance.

“This is Garrett Graham,” she announced dramatically, like some kind of sports commentator. “Team captain, future NHL star, and unfortunately for you girls, very much taken, so let’s all be respectful and keep your crushes to yourselves.”

Garrett deadpanned. “I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not.” she held his arm keeping him in place.

Her friends looked fascinated. Which happened a lot around Garrett.

He had that effect naturally. Big presence, sharp stare, the kind of confidence that made people straighten unconsciously when he walked into a room.

Y/N, didn’t see him like that at all. Mostly because she’d spent her entire childhood bullying him.

“Hi,” one girl squeaked nervously.

Garrett softened almost immediately. Not by much, maybe two percent, but for him that was practically warmth. The girls standing behind Y/N didn't look like the kind of people she usually spent time with. If he were being honest, he wasn't even convinced most of them were real friends. They seemed far more interested in the house and the hockey players than in Y/N herself. But he knew that she was trying to branch out beyond the skating world, trying to fit in with normal college girls for once, and Garrett wasn't about to make it harder for her.

So he slipped easily into the role they were all expecting: Briar's captain, friendly, polite, approachable. If making a good impression helped Y/N feel a little more comfortable, then he could play the part for a few minutes. Besides, it was nice seeing her with people outside the rink for a change. "Hey," he said politely.

Y/N looked smug. “See? He’s house trained.”

“Shut up”

Behind them, Logan watched the entire interaction with amusement tugging at his mouth. His eyes stayed on Y/N a second longer than necessary as she laughed again, and as she walked around introducing her friends to different guys on the hockey team, head tipping slightly toward her friends, arguing with Garrett about something stupid.

Most people looked at Y/N and saw confidence. The loud laugh, the quick comebacks, the way she could walk into a room full of strangers and somehow end up talking to all of them within ten minutes. She moved through their house like she lived there, stealing drinks, insulting people affectionately, making herself comfortable wherever she went.

But Logan had always thought there was something a little misleading about that version of her. Not because it wasn't real. Y/N was genuinely funny and talkative and ridiculously easy to like. The thing was, people assumed that meant she was easy to get to know. She wasn't.

Growing up with their dad she had, she'd learned early how to smile through discomfort, how to hide pain behind politeness, how to make difficult things look effortless. Figure skating had only reinforced it. Years of performing had taught her how to stay graceful when she was exhausted, how to make every movement look intentional, how to let people see exactly what she wanted them to see.

It was almost funny, really. For someone who was such a social butterfly, Y/N kept her world surprisingly small. Most friendships drifted in and out of her life without ever getting particularly deep. The people she truly let in could be counted on one hand: Garrett, the boys, Hannah and Allie. That was it. And whenever anyone pointed it out, she'd just shrug and insist she already had everything she needed.

And she meant it.

For them everything with Y/N felt easy. And Logan still hadn’t realized yet that maybe that was his problem. And why it was so hard to push whatever weird thought was going through his head away.

Y/N was halfway through introducing another girl to one of the denfesemen when a girl appeared beside Logan near the couch.

“Congratulations on the game” she said with an already flirty undertone, leaning against the side of the couch beside him.

He ignored her for some seconds. Eyes still clued toward Y/N across the room. She was laughing at something Garrett said, one hand gripping his forearm while he looked deeply unimpressed by her existence.

Then the girl said “So... you’re Johnny?”

That made him finally look back at the girl beside him. He reconized the girl as one of Y/N’s friends. Pretty. Blonde. Smiling at him.

“…don’t call me that.” he said quite rude without even noticing.

She blinked. “What?”

“Johnny.” He took another sip of beer. “Don’t call me that”

The girl laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Sorry. Y/N talks about you guys all the time, so I guess it stuck.”

That made something strange settle low in his chest. Y/N talks about you guys all the time. Not just Garrett. But also not just him. But them.

And really, why wouldn't she talk about them?

Y/N spent so much time at their house that half her college memories probably happened within these walls. Movie nights, team dinners, study sessions, late-night food runs, stupid inside jokes that somehow never died.

Somewhere along the way, she'd stopped being Garrett's little sister who occasionally stopped by and simply become part of the group.

Logan wasn't sure any of them had even noticed when it happened and hadn’t really thought about it. But apparently Y/N had. And apparently it was an important subject for her.

“You don’t like it, huh?” the girl teased lightly.

Logan was lost in his thoughts and realized a second too late she was still talking to him.

“What?”

“The nickname,” she said. “You hate it that much?”

“No,” he answered automatically. Then quieter: “Just sounds weird from other people.”

Because he didn’t hate it. Not really. He complained every time Y/N called him Johnny, but half the time he was just pretending. When she said it, it sounded natural. When someone else did, it felt like they were using something that wasn’t theirs.

Her smile shifted slightly then, like she finally noticed he wasn’t really paying attention to her.

His attention kept drifting back across the room. Y/N had moved closer to Garrett again, still talking animatedly with her hands while her friends listened. Garrett pretended to look annoyed, but Logan knew him well enough to catch the tiny things underneath it.

The way Garrett stayed turned toward her automatically in crowded rooms. The way his eyes tracked her without thinking. The way Y/N leaned into him casually because somewhere deep down she’d never doubted he’d be there.

Protective. Constant. Safe

It made him think.

Maybe because ever since Garrett had finally told them the truth last year, Logan hadn't been able to completely stop wondering about it. Not about Garrett, about Y/N.

Garrett's stories had always revolved around bruises, shouting matches, slammed doors, and a father who seemed determined to turn every room he entered into a battlefield. Logan knew enough to understand why Garrett carried some of the things he did. Knew enough to understand where the anger came from. But Y/N had always been the missing piece of that story.

He'd never asked her. It wasn't his business. Garrett had trusted them with his memories, and Logan wasn't about to start digging for details that hadn't been offered. Still, he couldn't help wondering where Y/N fit into all of it. Where she'd been during those years. What she'd seen. What she'd heard through bedroom walls. How much of it she remembered, and how much of it Garrett had managed to shield her from.

Because sometimes Logan looked at her and saw someone who seemed completely untouched by that kind of childhood, bright, confident, quick to laugh. Then other times, he'd catch small things that made him think the opposite. The way she avoided conflict she couldn't joke her way through. The way she brushed off things that should probably bother her more. The way she seemed determined to carry every problem by herself rather than ask for help.

Like somewhere along the way she'd learned the same lesson Garrett had. Just in a different form. Hide the damage. Keep smiling. Make sure nobody notices.

Garrett had spent most of his life protecting Y/N. Which made this… Whatever this weird thing inside Logan’s chest was… feel worse somehow. It felt wrong in a way he couldn’t fully explain. Because standing here watching them, it was impossible not to see how much trust existed there. How much love.

And Logan was suddenly terrifyingly aware that he was looking at Garrett’s little sister too long again.

The girl beside him tried one last time anyway.

“So,” she smiled, letting her fingers brush lightly against his arm, “are all hockey players this antisocial or just you?”

Normally, Logan would've flirted back without thinking. Easy smile. Easy charm. Easy conversation. The girl was pretty. She was standing right next to him, clearly interested, practically handing him an opening. Usually, that would've been enough.

Instead, he barely reacted.

Because his attention kept drifting across the room.

Y/N was near the middle of the living room now, laughing as Hannah wrapped an arm around her shoulders. A second later, the two girls grabbed Garrett from opposite sides and started trying to drag him toward whatever disaster counted as dancing tonight.

Garrett immediately looked annoyed. Or at least he tried to. His mouth was already twitching before they even managed to pull him away from the wall, the corner of it betraying him as Hannah laughed and Y/N nearly doubled over from her own success.

The idiot was enjoying himself.

Logan felt a soft smile tug at his mouth before he could stop it.

The girl beside him followed his gaze.

Watched Y/N and Hannah continue harassing Garrett while he complained the entire time, letting them pull him farther into the crowd anyway.

Then she looked back at Logan. And suddenly went very quiet. “Oh,” she said.

For the first time all night, Logan actually looked at her and he realized exactly what she'd been seeing.

Understanding flashed across the girl's face almost instantly. Then came sympathy. Which was somehow worse. The girl looked back at Logan and laughed softly.

Logan frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, still smiling. Then her eyes flicked toward Y/N again. 

Before Logan could come up with a response, she shook her head, amusement replacing whatever disappointment she'd felt.

"Good luck with that, Logan." she said sarcastically and he noticed she avoided the nickname. 

"With what?" he asked immediately.

But she was already backing away into the crowd.

"You'll figure it out."

And then she was gone.

No teasing. No accusations. No chance for him to explain that she had the wrong idea.

Logan stared down into his beer for a moment before his eyes drifted right back across the room. Straight to Y/N. And somehow that only made the girl's comment worse. But the worst part is he still didn’t even know what exactly he’d been caught doing.

———————

The party kept moving around.

Music louder now. More bodies packed into the house. The heat unbearable from too many people dancing too close together.

And somewhere in the middle of it all that, Y/N.

She’d abandoned her jacket hours ago, now down to a cropped Briar U shirt and jeans, hair messy from dancing while Hannah and Allie screamed lyrics around her. Her "friends" were nowhere to be seen anymore, and honestly she felt way better arounf Hannah and Allie anyways.

She looked happy. Not polite-smiling happy. Not teasing-the-boys happy. Actually happy.

Free in a way Logan didn’t think he’d ever really noticed before. And maybe it was because this place felt safe to her. The hockey house, Garrett and the boys. She moved through the crowd without hesitation, laughing freely, accepting drinks from Dean without checking them first, throwing her head back when her friends dragged her into another terrible dance circle.

Comfortable.

Because she trusted that nothing bad would happen here. And that somebody would take care of her if it did. Logan watched her spin badly with Hannah and Allie to some early 2000s song while Dean nearly fell over beside her and Tucker recorded the whole thing laughing.

A smile tugged at Logan’s mouth despite himself.

“Dude.”

Logan blinked and looked back toward the couch.

One of the upperclassmen frowned at him. “Are you even listening?”

“…not really.”

“No shit.”

Logan huffed quietly into his beer and leaned back further into the couch cushions.

Conversation started around him again almost immediately, hockey schedules, classes, some argument about playoffs, but it all blurred together after a while.

Because every few minutes his eyes found her again.

Y/N stealing somebody’s drink. Y/N laughing so hard she doubled over. Y/N dancing terribly on purpose just to make her friends laugh harder. Every glance lasted a little too long. Every time he looked away, his attention drifted right back. He never noticed her like that before. And the more he noticed it the worse it felt.

Because Garrett trusted him.

Hell, Y/N trusted him. She was not only her best friend’s sister, she was his friend too.

She walked into this house without thinking twice because somewhere along the line, the boys had become safe too. Safe enough to steal their drinks, fall asleep on their couches, and trust that nobody would ever see more of it.

The thought settled heavily in Logan's chest.

Because he'd always hated when people said men and women couldn't just be friends. Hated the idea that every friendship secretly came with an expiration date, that eventually one person always wanted more. And yet, watching Y/N laugh her way through the crowd without a second thought, Logan felt like an asshole.

Because as far as she knew, he just another one of the boys.

Then suddenly—

“Jooooohnny.”

A body dropped onto the couch beside him hard enough to make him jolt slightly. Followed by Garrett, Tucker and Dean.

Y/N grinned at him lazily, very obviously drunk.

Her cheeks were flushed pink from dancing, eyes bright and unfocused while she stole the beer directly from his hand without asking.

“People’s princess,” Dean said sitting on the armchair. “Finally tired of entertaining your subjects?”

Y/N pointed at him dramatically. “Dean understands me.”

“You spilled vodka on my shoes twenty minutes ago.”

“And yet you forgive me because I’m charming.”

“No,” Garrett muttered, appearing behind the couch suddenly. “he forgave you because you’re five seconds from falling over.”

Y/N gasped softly. “I’m not even that bad”

She leaned further into Logan’s side as she said it, completely unbothered. Logan went still instantly.

“Hi,” she said suddenly, squinting up at him. “Why do you look depressed?”

“I’m literally just sitting here.”

“Yeah,” she nodded seriously. “But, like… depressing.”

Dean burst out laughing.

Y/N ignored him completely and kept staring at Logan with drunken concentration like she was genuinely trying to solve a puzzle.

Then she narrowed her eyes.

“…you’re thinking too loud. You just scored 3 goals in a important game, you are no fun”

Logan looked down at her—

really looked at her—

and suddenly realized just how close she was.

Close enough to see the faint glitter still stubbornly clinging near the corners of her eyes. Close enough to smell alcohol mixed with her perfume. Close enough that if she leaned even a little more—

His throat tightened.

Y/N blinked up at him slowly with heavy, sleepy eyes, still waiting for an answer to whatever nonsense accusation she’d just made. Completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. Logan swallowed hard before he caught himself.

Then immediately leaned back, giving her shoulder a light shove taking his beer back.

“Shut up,” he muttered with a nervous chuckle. “You are dead-ass drunk.”

Y/N gasped dramatically like he’d deeply insulted her.

“I’m not drunk.”

“You almost walked into my lamp ten minutes ago.” Tucker accused

“The lamp moved.” she said dramaticlly

Dean nodded solemnly from the floor. “Honestly? I saw it too.”

“Thank you.”

Garrett looked exhausted. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Y/N ignored him entirely and stole Logan’s beer again before he could stop her.

“Hey—”

“You share,” she informed him.

“You’ve had, like, four drinks already.” he took his beer back

“And?” She tilted her head lazily against the couch cushion. “I want to have five" she pouted

And suddenly Logan felt hyperaware again of the fact that she was practically folded against his side.

This felt dangerously wrong. Not because she was doing anything inappropriate. Y/N was just being Y/N. Comfortable, loud, affectionate when drunk, the problem was that she didn’t know the effect this suddenly had on him.

“You are,” she insisted, poking his ribs weakly. “You are all weird and quiet.”

Logan nearly choked on his beer. “No, I’m not.”

Y/N chuckled again, soft and tired this time, until she suddenly dropped her head onto Logan’s shoulder like gravity simply gave up on her. Everything in Logan’s body locked instantly.

Y/N was already half asleep.

“She’s done,” Tucker announced from the other couch.

“No shit,” Garrett muttered.

Y/N made a small annoyed sound without lifting her head. “I’m literally awake.”

“Congratulations,” Logan said dryly, staring very hard at the opposite wall instead of the warm weight resting against him. “Do you want a medal?”

“…yes. the golden one, in the olympics” she said sleepy

Dean lost it laughing again.

And Logan smiled despite himself. Which was exactly the problem.

“Damn it,” Garrett muttered.

Logan glanced up.

Across the living room, Hannah and Allie were fully passed out on the opposite couch, tangled together next to Tucker.

And Dean—

disappeared suddenly, probably with the brunette he was hooking up with twenty minutes ago.

Garrett took a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose like the entire party was personally attacking him. “This is why I hate throwing parties,” he muttered. “Everybody has fun, then somehow the house is destroyed, the beer's gone, and we're the ones cleaning up tomorrow.”

"That's leardship Gare" Y/N mumbled

Garrett ignored her and continued “And don't even get me started on freshmen who discover alcohol for the first time and immediately forget how to function.”

“Love you too,” Y/N mumbled sleepily against Logan's shoulder.

Garrett pointed at her immediately.

“You are exactly who I'm talking about."

“No, I'm not.” She cracked one eye open. “I'm your favorite.”

“You're currently drooling on Logan."

Logan nearly inhaled his beer wrong.

Y/N lifted her head just enough to look offended "Liar ! I don't drool."

Then she dropped right back onto his shoulder anyway.

Logan was painfully aware of: Y/N curled into his side. His arm resting along the back of the couch behind her. The fact that he hadn’t moved away once.

Garrett sighed heavily.

“Hey,” he said finally, looking directly at Logan. “I gotta take Hannah and Allie home before it gets too late”

Logan blinked once.

“And?”

“And Dean disappeared.” Garrett jerked his head toward Tucker. “Tucker’s drunk off his ass.” Then finally: "So do you mind taking care of Y/N?”

The room seemed to go strangely quiet for a second. Garrett trusted him. And Logan felt like the world’s worst person suddenly. Because Garrett asked the question so easily.

No suspicion. No hesitation.

“Yeah,” Logan answered automatically, voice rougher than intended. “Course.”

Garrett nodded once like that settled it completely.

“Just make sure she drinks water before she passes out.”

Y/N lifted one finger into the air dramatically without opening her eyes. “Hydration is important for high performance athletes.”

“You had vodka mixed with an energy drink.”

“Balance.”

Garrett rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly shaking his head. Then he moved toward the couch, crouching briefly in front of Y/N.

“Hey,” he said quieter this time. “I’m taking Hannah back to campus.”

Y/N blinked slowly at him. “Kay.”

“You staying here tonight?”

She nodded immediately, not even thinking about it. “Mhm.”

“Okay.” Garrett brushed messy hair back from her forehead automatically. “Lock the upstairs bathroom door this time if you shower in the morning.”

Y/N looked offended. “That happened one time.”

Garrett laughed under his breath despite himself before standing again. Then he looked toward Logan one last time.

“Text me if she gets worse.”

Logan nodded once.

And just like that, Garrett handed over the most important person in his life without a second thought.

“I’m not even that drunk,” Y/N complained immediately after Garrett disappeared toward the front door with Hannah and Allie barely conscious behind him. “I don’t need a babysitter”

Her words blended together just enough to completely destroy her argument. Logan looked down at her incredulously.

“You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I’m just relaxing.”

“You called the lamp hostile earlier.”

“Because it was.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically before letting herself fall backward against Logan’s shoulder again with absolutely no concern for personal space.

“He’s so dramatic, I swear,” she mumbled. “Like, oh no, Y/N had fun at a party, somebody alert the authorities.”

Logan huffed out a laugh despite himself.

“G is just protective.”

Y/N groaned instantly. “He’s insane.”

“He worries"

“Too much.” she added.

She shifted again until she was practically folded into Logan’s side, one leg thrown lazily across the couch cushion beside him. Logan was trying very hard not to think about the fact that her face was tucked against his neck now. He swallowed once and stared straight ahead at the crowded living room like it personally offended him.

Y/N snorted softly against Logan’s shoulder, clearly amused. Then she tilted her head up suddenly to squint at him.

“You smell nice.” Everything in Logan’s body stopped functioning for a full second. Y/N blinked slowly, still completely serious. “Like laundry detergent,” she informed him.

Logan dragged a hand down his face. “You are never drinking again.”

Y/N smiled sleepily then, small and lazy and entirely too comfortable against him. Her fingers absentmindedly curled into the sleeve of Logan’s hoodie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe for her, it was. That was the problem. Because for Y/N, this meant nothing.

Meanwhile Logan was sitting there hyperaware of every point where she touched him while guilt slowly ate through his bloodstream.

Tucker noticed. Of course he did. His drunk eyes narrowed slowly between the two of them. Logan looked up noticing Tucker's eyes on them and stomach dropped immediately.

“I’m gonna take her upstairs,” Logan announced to nobody in particular.

Mostly because he desperately needed to get out of this couch before Tucker’s drunk ass accidentally developed observational skills.

Y/N barely protested when Logan stood and took her hand, helping her up from the couch carefully. The second she got to her feet, she swayed slightly. He reached out quickly and steadied her.

“Wow,” she said, sounding genuinely impressed. “So strong.”

Logan laughed. “You're a figure skater. You're supposed to have better balance than this.”

Y/N squinted at him. “I can skate backward.”

“You can't walk forward.”

“Details.”

She stumbled toward the stairs with all the confidence of someone who absolutely should not be walking unassisted. Logan followed automatically, one hand hovering near her elbow just in case.

Halfway to the staircase, she faltered. Not from the alcohol this time. A small wince crossed her face before she could hide it, her hand briefly brushing her knee. Logan noticed immediately.

"You okay?" he rushed to her side "What hurts?"

"Nothing."

"That wasn't a nothing face."

"My knee's being dramatic."

"You mean injured?"

"I mean dramatic."

Y/N blinked at him. Then shrugged.

"Yeah. Probably danced too much."

"You dance for an hour and injure yourself?"

"I skate for six hours and injure myself," she corrected. "I dance for an hour and I feel it"

Logan narrowed his eyes. She ignored him. Then she looked up at the staircase. And stopped completely. A look of deep suspicion settled on her face. "...there's more of them than before." brushing the subject with jokes.

Logan stared. "The stairs?"

"Yeah... and they are moving."

"They are literally the same stairs."

Y/N squinted harder. "and multiplying."

"Jesus Christ."

Before she could attempt climbing again and accidentally throw herself backward down the staircase, Logan exhaled sharply and bent slightly to lift her instead.

One arm under her knees. The other around her back. Easy and effortless.

Y/N let out a startled laugh immediately as he picked her up bridal style. Her head tipped backward dramatically while her arms looped loosely around his neck for balance.

“Show off,” she mumbled drunkenly.

Logan rolled his eyes as he started upstairs carefully. “You’re impossible.”

“No,” Y/N sighed dreamily. “I’m graceful.”

Logan laughed quietly under his breath before he could stop himself. Y/Ne looked up at him then, smile softer now, eyes heavy and unfocused in the dim hallway lighting.

And God. That was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Then suddenly she spoke again.

“Did you know,” Y/N slurred thoughtfully, “I quit pairs when I was little?”

Logan glanced down at her. “You did?”

She nodded against his shoulder.

“Yeah. My partners could never lift me properly.”   

There was something about the way she said it casually, even though this was brand new information, that immediately put Logan on edge.

Y/N just kept going. “I hated pairs, honestly. Being thrown around, being caught, trusting somebody not to drop you.” She wrinkled her nose. “None of my partners were ever very good at it.”

Then she laughed softly. “One of them told me I was too heavy.”

The hallway suddenly felt very quiet. Logan stopped walking. 

“What? Does Garrett know about this?”

The look of horror on her face was immediate. “Oh my God, no. He'd literally murder a second grader.”

Logan considered that for a second. “Maybe he should have.”

Y/N blinked up at him. “We were like seven.”

“I don't care.” The answer came so fast it almost surprised him.

A smile tugged at her mouth. “He was seven too, Johnny.”

“Then he was a seven-year-old asshole.”

That actually made her laugh.

Y/N yawned and rested her head against his shoulder again.

“Besides,” she mumbled sleepily, “it worked out. I was always better on my own anyways.”

She looked completely unbothered, like comments like that happened all the time. Like she'd already accepted them as normal. Somehow, that made it worse.

Logan tightened his jaw and started walking again. "Sounds like your partners sucked."

Y/N laughed softly. "Most of them did."

"They had one job. Catch you."

"That's not technically their only job," she informed him. "But that is a very hockey-player way of looking at it."

"Maybe." He glanced down at her. "Still. If somebody's trusting you enough to throw themselves into the air, you don't get to screw that up."

For a second, she looked thoughtful. Then a sleepy smile spread across her face.

"You would've been a great partner."

Logan snorted. "I'm pretty sure figure skating requires grace and coordination. I'd be kicked out on day one."

That made her laugh. And he smiled to himself proud of it "Maybe... But at least you would've caught me."

The words were casual. The effect they had on him wasn't.

As she said them, her fingers tightened absentmindedly around his bicep where her arm rested. Logan nearly missed a step. Y/N blinked down at her own hand, then squeezed experimentally once more.

"...wow."

Oh no.

"I never realized how fit you were," she mumbled, squeezing again as if this were a perfectly normal thing to do. "This is insane."

"Y/N." he warned

"What?" she asked innocently, looking up at him while continuing her completely unscientific investigation.

"Jesus Christ." he groaned

She laughed softly, still completely unaware of the fact that she was actively shortening his lifespan. Or maybe she was. Drunk Y/N was difficult to read.

Logan tightened his grip under her knees slightly and pushed Garrett’s bedroom door open with his shoulder. The room was dark except for the lamp near the desk.

Y/N immediately sighed dramatically once they entered. “Oooh my kingdom.”

“It’s your brother’s room.” he said unpatient.

Logan walked toward the bed carefully while Y/N kept talking nonsense against his shoulder.

“You hockey boys are weirdly muscular,” she informed him seriously. “Like scientifically concerning.”

“You are never drinking vodka again.”

“Okay but” she poked his chest weakly “your arms are ridiculous.”

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose. This was torture. Actual torture. Because Y/N sounded completely casual about it. Meanwhile Logan’s brain was actively trying to kill him. He lowered her carefully onto Garrett’s bed, expecting her to let go.

She didn’t.

Her arms stayed looped lazily around his neck while she looked up at him from the mattress with heavy eyes.

Too close. Again. Logan swallowed hard.

“Alright,” he said roughly. “You gotta let go now.”

Y/N frowned slightly like she genuinely needed a second to process the request.

Then finally “Oh. Sorry” she chuckled and slowly, she loosened her arms.

But instead of fully letting go, her hand caught the collar of his shirt lightly before he could pull away.

Logan froze instantly. Y/N squinted at him with sleepy concentration.

“You’re handsome,” she informed him very seriously.

Logan actually choked a little on air. “Okay,” he said quickly. “Goodnight.”

Y/N started laughing again as he immediately tried stepping backward out of reach.

“Relax, Johnny,” she teased softly, falling sideways into Garrett’s pillows. “You look scared.”

Scared wasn’t exactly the word for it. Terrified felt more accurate. As he organized the bed for her to sleep in. A few seconds of silence, that honestly felt like forever. Y/N looked like she considered something for a moment before finally speak.

“So did you?”

Logan, halfway through pulling the blanket over her, looked up in confusion.

“I did what?”

Y/N shifted onto her back dramatically, squinting at him with a teasing little smile.

“Hook up with Chloe.”

Logan blinked once. “…who?”

“My friend,” Y/N clarified with an exaggerated eye roll. He still looked confused so she added “The blonde one.”

“Oh.”

“She wanted to hook up with you,” Y/N continued casually. “Has been talking about it all week.”

Logan snorted softly despite himself. Y/N looked deeply unimpressed. “Really annoying, by the way.” She threw herself harder into Garrett’s pillows like the entire situation personally offended her. “Acting like you guys are celebrities or something,” she muttered. “It’s stupid.”

Logan crossed his arms lightly, leaning against Garrett’s desk now.

“You literally introduced your brother like he was royalty downstairs.”

“That was ironic.”

“Sure.”

Y/N ignored him.

“She kept begging me to introduce you guys,” she continued. “I told her I wouldn’t, but then she was like, ‘I’ll just talk to him myself.’”

Her voice changed mockingly on the last sentence. Logan laughed quietly under his breath. Then Y/N looked back at him again.

“So?” she asked. “Did you?”

There was something oddly focused about the question despite how drunk she was. Curious and watching him carefully anyway.

Logan shrugged once. “No.”

Y/N blinked. “No?”

“No.”

“…why not?”

The question came too fast. Like she asked before thinking about it. Logan noticed immediately. Y/N noticed too, judging by the way her expression shifted slightly afterward. But instead of backing off, she doubled down.

“She’s pretty,” she said defensively. “Like... a lot”

“Never said she wasn’t.”

“She literally spent two hours fixing her hair before coming here.”

“Really? Didn't notice” he said crossing his arms.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him from the bed. “You flirt with everyone.”

“That’s not true.”

“Johnny,” she deadpanned. “I’ve seen you flirt with the library lady.”

Logan laughed. Actually laughed. And Y/N hated for one brief second how good he looked doing it. Drunk thoughts. Dangerous territory.

“She wasn’t really my type,” Logan said finally.

Y/N tilted her head slightly against the pillow.

“And what exactly is your type?”

The room got quieter somehow. Suddenly Logan could hear every small sound in Garrett’s room: the muffled conversations dowstairs through the walls, Y/N’s breathing, his own heartbeat being deeply unhelpful.

Because Y/N was looking at him now. Really looking at him. Drunk curious eyes soft in the low light. Logan forced himself to shrug casually.

“Don’t know,” he lied.

Y/N hummed sleepily like she didn’t believe him for a second. Then, after a pause:

“Yeah... maybe brunettes are more your thing.”

Logan’s breath caught so subtly he almost thought he imagined it himself. Y/N, meanwhile, was already sinking deeper into the pillows, eyes half closed again. Completely unaware of the damage she was causing.

Logan walked away and stayed still near the doorway for a second, hand already on the light switch.

Y/N’s breathing had evened out. Her eyes were closed. And for one dangerously peaceful moment, he thought she’d finally fallen asleep.

Good. Because he needed distance. Cold water. Maybe psychological intervention. He reached for the switch.

Then—

“Don’t leave, please.”

The words were so quiet he almost didn’t hear them. Logan turned immediately. Y/N was still curled into Garrett’s blankets, eyes barely open now, voice rough with exhaustion and alcohol. But the teasing was gone.

“I don’t like being alone like this,” she admitted softly.

Something in Logan’s chest tightened painfully. Because suddenly she didn’t sound drunk anymore. She sounded vulnerable. Young. And underneath the sleepiness and slurred words, there was something deeper there too. Something sad enough that Logan felt it instantly without fully understanding why.

Y/N shifted slightly against the pillow, blinking toward the dark hallway behind him.

“Where’s Gare?” she asked quietly. Not Garrett. Gare. Like small. Childlike. Old habit.

Logan leaned against the doorframe slowly. “He took Hannah back to campus, remember?”

Y/N frowned weakly. “Oh.” she said in relization.

Silence stretched for a second. Then quieter:

“He always stays.”

And there it was. That deeper thing again. Logan knew enough about Y/N and Garrett’s childhood to understand what she wasn’t saying out loud. Garrett always stayed because growing up, somebody had to.

Somebody had to stand between her and the yelling and slammed doors and bruises Garrett pretended nobody noticed. Somebody had to make sure she felt safe. And apparently even now, drunk and exhausted, part of Y/N still searched for her brother first when she felt vulnerable.

Logan’s throat tightened unexpectedly.

“Hey... it's okay. I can stay.” he said softly before he could stop himself.

Y/N looked at him sleepily. Logan hesitated only half a second longer before walking back toward the bed. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat carefully on the edge beside her.

Y/N relaxed almost immediately. Like his presence alone settled something anxious inside her. That should not have affected him as much as it did.

“You gonna stay?” she asked quietly.

Logan looked down at her for a long moment. Then sighed softly through his nose.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

Y/N’s eyes closed again almost instantly after that. Trusting him without hesitation.

And Logan sat there in Garrett Graham’s room beside the girl he absolutely should not be thinking about this way, while guilt and something dangerously close to tenderness twisted together inside his chest.

I ran into the Briar University Sports Arena on a fucking mission; to find John Logan. Last week, I had stupidly sent him a series of texts that was meant for my best friend, Hannah Wells. Texts read as follows:

oh, my gosh!!  you’ll never guess what just fucking happened?  i was walking into malone’s and i had turned my head for two seconds to say hey to someone in my class,  and i hadn’t seen anyone in my peripherals, so i ran smack into someone.  when i turned my head to look at who i had ran into - oh, my god.  hannah. IT WAS FUCKING JOHN LOGAN!!!! YOUR BOYFRIENDS BEST FUCKING FRIEND. oh my god, hannah. he’s so fucking hot, like, i can’t. i mean, i’m kind of friends with him, so it’s not like i’m seeing him for the first time or anything that didn’t make sense. ignore that. he makes me feel like i’m the only girl in the room when we’re hanging out, ya’know? i’ve been crushing on him for a while. like trying to go to all the home games kind of crushing.

When I had seen those three dots appear on my screen, I had stopped typing out another message, reading the message that had appeared in a gray bubble on my screen.

You know this isn’t Hannah, right?

yes it is. stop fucking with me, wellsy.

Look at the contact name.

I had looked and felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment; John’s picture and name was at the top of my screen. When he called me, I threw my phone like there was a spider on it, letting it ring until either he hung up or it went to voicemail.

As I ran through the arena, down every corridor I knew by heart before stopping at the entrance to the players room, seeing every single Hawk sitting in their respective places. 

Oh, yeah. Did I mention that my dad is the coach? No. Well, I have now. So, seeing him didn’t shock me. What did shock me was seeing Garrett Graham standing in front of the team, speaking.

“I acted like I was bigger than the team,” Garrett said.

“Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole,” Logan responded.

I looked from the back of Garrett’s head to Logan, a smile gracing those perfect lips. When he spotted me, his smile fell a little before a softer one appeared.

“But even when I abandoned you,” Garrett continued. “Even when I lost my shit when you didn’t deserve it, when I forgot about the game and the team and how much fucking fun we have when we’re out there together, you were there.”

A soft smile also graced my face at Garrett’s speech, Hannah’s tutoring paying off pretty nicely. I mean, I helped out some when Hannah wasn’t able to because of her shift at Malone’s, even though her and Garrett had a schedule worked out.

“You guys backed me up.” Garrett looked over at my dad and said, “That’s why I… love this sport. Is that it’s about showing up and leaving it all out on the ice. Not for yourself, but for the guy on your right. For your brothers. I know I let you guys down. I haven’t been the captain that you deserve, but…”

His arm moved, like he was taking something out of his jacket pocket as the players murmured as he did so. Even my brows furrowed and my mouth fell at his movement in question.

“But until then,” he said. Garrett chuckled, lifting his head. “You guys already have a captain skating with you out there.”

I looked right at Logan, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Looking at my dad, my smile returned a little, his arm extended for me. I walked into his embrace, watching the rest of the scene play out in front of me.

Garrett looked over my dad, eyeing me before his eyes cast back to my dad. “That okay, Coach?”

Dad squeezed my shoulder and said, “I’m good with it.” He looked at his players and asked, “Gentlemen?”

They all started banging their sticks and cheering a little, Tucker saying, “Yeah, Logan!” bringing a smile to my face as I looked at him, a tear sliding down my cheek, my happiness shining for him.

Logan huffed out a small laugh before standing as Garrett made his way over to him, handing him what I now know was the C letter that stood for captain.

“Captain Logan!” someone said.

Logan and Garrett hugged before he said, “Let’s fucking go!” The players agreed before he looked at me again and smirked. “You guys go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

All the players and my dad walked off to the stadium, ready to defeat the opposing team on our own rink. Logan walked up to me slowly, a smile forming on his face.

I sighed, and let another tear slide down my cheek before I said, “Okay, you have to know that those messages were meant for Hannah, not you.”

“I know,” he said.

“And while all those messages are 100% true, you have to know that I never intended on telling you like that.”

He was no more than 3 feet in front of me as he said, “And what was your plan for telling me.”

“I don’t know, but just know that I am incredibly embarrassed by it. I never meant to send you those texts. I literally thought that I was texting Hannah. And, no, I didn’t notice whose thread I opened before I did. I just… opened it.”

I  had to tilt my head back to look up at him since he was standing directly in front of me.

“Well, just so you know,” he said, taking his gloves off. “I feel the same way.”

“Really? Because I would totally understand if you didn’t anymore, and–”

He cupped my face before saying, “Shut up.” Logan’s lips were on mine in a second, stopping my words and thoughts entirely. 

Our lips moved in such synchronicity, you’d think we’d been a couple for a really long time when in reality, it was our first together. When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine before he released a happy chuckle, if that’s even a thing.

“Jensen, I’ve liked you since the moment you ran into this room freshman year.”

Letting out a soft laugh, I pulled back a little more to look at him, a soft smile on my lips. “I’ve liked you since then, too.” Running my fingers over the scruff on his chin, I added, “The beard is a nice touch. Makes you hotter.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, picking me up for a second, a louder laugh escaping me. 

“Logan, if you still want to be captain, I suggest you get your ass out on that ice!” I heard my dad say.

Logan laughed and said, “Yes, Coach.”

As I kissed him again, all I could think was that I was actually that I sent him those texts. I pulled back and just looked at him for a second, a small smile on my face before I said, “Go get ‘em, John Logan.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i'm open to writing for more off campus characters if this does well.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Elle Kennedy, author of the Off Campus book series.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

I opened the beer and looked at Allie while she forced a smile in the middle of the conversation. A little farther ahead, near the bonfire, Félix Kelsen was standing next to Logan listening to Dean talk with way too much excitement for that time of night.

And honestly?

Seeing those two in the same place felt wrong on almost impressive levels.

Félix Kelsen had been the first guy I ever slept with. And also the guy I kept sleeping with during the summers when Allie and I came back to Delaware. A kind of bad habit that had become way too comfortable to end. The problem was that it had been two years since the last time I’d seen Félix. Two years since the last time he pinned me against one of the pier walls after some stupid party. Two years since the last time he called me trouble bunny while laughing against my mouth. And now he was there.

Standing next to Logan.

My stomach twisted immediately.

Because Logan was already territorial by nature. Irritatingly territorial. And Félix had exactly the kind of personality that loved provoking people like Logan just for the entertainment of it.

“You’ve been staring at them for like five minutes,” Allie commented beside me before taking a sip of her drink. I looked away way too fast.

“I have not.”

“Yes, you have. And with that specific look.”

I frowned.

“What specific look?”

Allie let out a quiet laugh.

“The ‘this is going to end in disaster’ look.”

Because it probably would. I followed Allie toward the group, and the second Kelsen lifted his eyes to me, a huge grin spread across his face before he stepped forward. Félix had never had any trouble connecting with people. Especially not with people he already had history with. And that meant that even if he hadn’t seen me in two years, he still felt close to me — like those two years apart meant absolutely nothing.

“Holy shit, bunny. Damn, you look hot as hell.”

A laugh escaped me automatically as he spun me slightly off the ground before setting me down again. And maybe that alone already said too much. Because old intimacy was dangerous like that. It came back without asking permission.

“You’re still dramatic,” I murmured, lightly pushing against his chest while Félix kept his hands on my waist for way too long. His pale eyes quickly traveled down my body before returning to my face. Not subtle at all.

“And you’re still hot as fuck. So I guess not much changed here.”

My eyes widened a little while an embarrassed, raspy laugh escaped me. The kind that sounded like hahah.

“I think some things did.”

“So you two know each other too?” Dean asked, interrupting the small moment.

Félix stepped beside me and crossed his arms over his chest with a wide grin. The second he moved out of my way, I lifted my eyes to Logan, who was staring directly at Félix with an expression I couldn’t quite tell was disgust or anger because his jaw was clenched too tightly.

“Our parents were friends. You two...”

I started explaining before Félix nudged my waist, making me glance sideways at him briefly before looking back at the group, who were all very obviously watching the situation unfold.

“Sometimes we hung out when my parents came down to check the beach house for the weekend.” Dean nodded.

“So you were the other rich kid Dean mentioned sometimes,” Beau said, pointing at him, making everyone laugh while Félix accepted the joke easily.

“Yeah, man. I can also be the guy who got his heart broken the second a certain person stopped coming to see me.”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my beer while Allie and Hannah stared at me with wide eyes.

“You’re so dramatic. You know what happened.”

“It’s not dramatic if it’s true, bunny.”

My eyes widened instantly before I looked down at the sand while choking on my drink, making Félix laugh beside me.

“Sorry if you got out of practice with the nickname.” Another laugh rang out — but this one wasn’t amused. It was sharp. Bitter. Coming from Logan as he looked at us. To cover it up, Allie forced out a laugh too along with Hannah while the rest of the guys pretended to laugh as well. “Anyway, my parents are gonna freak out if they find out you’re in town. You have to come see them.”

“That’s a lie. Your mom didn’t even like me.”

I laughed, shaking my head at him.

“Nah, she loved you. And besides, Allie, you know Jaden would be happy to know you're back in town.”

Allie’s eyes widened immediately.

“Oh no,” she muttered, nearly panicked. Dean slowly turned toward her. Way too slowly. Félix’s smile widened instantly, clearly satisfied with the chaos he’d created.

“He’s a nice guy,” he explained to the people who didn’t know who he was, shrugging casually. “Surfer. Kinda obsessed with Allie that summer. You know how it is.”

“Félix,” Allie warned through clenched teeth.

“What? I’m being nice. I didn’t even mention the part where...”

´´Have you always been this unfiltered, or did I just forget?” I asked.

Logan glanced at me and smiled. That immediately should've worried me.

“You never really paid attention to how I was, bunny.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You always had your mouth full.”

He said it casually.

Without thinking.

Without a single survival instinct.

My brain stopped working for a full second. Then I started coughing. Hard. Across from me, Logan's expression immediately shifted from smug to horrified as he realized what he'd just said.

“Oh, fuck.”

Dean nearly inhaled his drink.

“Who wants shots? Isn’t that why we’re here?” I interrupted quickly.

Hannah agreed way too fast.

“Yes. Shots. Lots of shots.”

“Finally, somebody with good ideas,” Beau announced immediately. Even so, the strange tension spread through the group. Dean still looked suspiciously between Allie and Félix while Beau started handing out plastic shot cups across the makeshift table near the bonfire.

And honestly? I appreciated the distraction because the tension between Logan and Félix was already starting to develop a personality of its own. I grabbed one of the shots the second Beau shoved the tray toward us.

“Perfect.”

Everyone raised their cups at the same time.

“To summer,” Hannah said first.

“To emotional irresponsibility,” Dean added.

“To questionable vacation sex,” Félix finished without hesitation.

The guys immediately burst out laughing. Even Logan. Quietly. But he laughed. And for some reason that was worse. Because when I looked at him over the rim of my cup, I found his brown eyes already fixed on me.

Watching.

Way too calm.

Like he was trying to piece together an entire puzzle inside his head. I swallowed the shot immediately just to break eye contact.

Mistake. Because that shit burned all the way down my throat.

“Oh my God,” I coughed. “This tastes like gasoline.”

“That’s because Beau mixes drinks like a criminal,” Tucker commented.

“And yet you idiots keep drinking them,” Beau replied, offended.

Félix grabbed another shot and held it out toward me.

“You still terrible at taking tequila?”

“I was never terrible.”

“Bunny, you climbed onto a table and tried to fight a guy dressed like a pirate.”

Allie instantly burst out laughing.

“I climbed onto the table and argued with him, not fought him.”

“I cannot believe I never got to witness that version of you,” Hannah said, laughing while covering her mouth with both hands. Félix grinned proudly.

“Oh, you should’ve seen her drunk that summer. Tiny, violent, and completely unhinged.”

“Oh shut up.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. But the problem was that Logan didn’t laugh this time. I felt it before I even looked at him. The shift in the air. That silent tension that always appeared whenever Logan got irritated and tried pretending he wasn’t.

When I lifted my eyes, I found him leaning against a fallen tree trunk with his beer resting on his thigh, watching Félix talk to me like he was analyzing every detail of the interaction.

His jaw tightened the second Félix took my empty shot glass from my hand without even asking and replaced it with another.

Natural. Easy. Far too intimate.

As the night went on and I got drunker, I completely gave up on the idea of staying on my feet.

So I simply dropped down beside Logan on the ground, leaning my back against the tree trunk while he distractedly talked to one of the guys from the team.

My shoulder bumped against his the second I sat down, and I felt Logan glance at me quickly before returning his attention to the conversation.

“Dude, I still think you stole that traffic sign,” the guy across the fire said.

“I didn’t steal it,” Logan replied calmly.

“Logan, you literally used it as a sled in the snow.”

“Allegations without proof.”

I rolled my eyes with a quiet laugh while resting my elbows on my knees. The alcohol made everything feel slower. Warmer. Easier. Especially ignoring the fact that Logan’s leg was pressed against mine.

An idea suddenly popped into my head.

Before I could overthink it, I turned toward Logan and dropped to my knees beside him.

“What are you—”

“Logan!”

I grabbed his shoulders before he could finish.

His words died instantly.

My hands slid from his shoulders to the sides of his neck, then up to his jaw, forcing him to look at me.

Logan blinked.

Completely caught off guard.

“...What?”

I couldn't stop smiling.

“We should go swimming.”

For a second, he just stared at me.

Like he genuinely thought he'd misheard me.

Then a grin spread across his face.

Slow.

Dangerous.

Like I'd just handed him exactly what he wanted.

“Oh, now you want to go swimming.”

“Yes! I've never gone swimming in the ocean at night before, and you said you wanted to do it. Come on.”

Logan laughed.

A quiet, disbelieving sound.

“I don't know if that's a good idea, bunny. You're pretty drunk.”

I immediately frowned. My hands, which were still holding his face, slid up into his messy brown curls.

“Don't call me that.” My fingers tangled deeper into his messy curls as I frowned at him. “And I'm not that drunk.”

“Right.” Logan's mouth twitched. “He can call you that, but I can't?”

“That's different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “He calls me bunny. You call me gorgeous.”

For a second, Logan just stared at me before a laugh escaped him.

“That's your reasoning?”

“It's perfectly valid reasoning.”

“Gorgeous, that's not reasoning at all.”

“Logan.”

“Yeah?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You are being incredibly annoying right now.”

“And you're drunk enough to think swimming in the ocean at two in the morning sounds like a great idea.”

I opened my mouth.

Then paused.

“...Okay, that part might be fair.”

His laugh escaped before he could stop it.

And somehow that only made me want to drag him into the water even more.

“Fine. But since you're not coming, I'm going by myself.”

Before he could argue, I pushed myself to my feet.

“Gorgeous...”

“Too late.”

I pointed a warning finger at him and started backing away from the fire.

Delaware was safe enough for us to go skinny-dipping, and honestly, we were far enough away from all our friends and the drunk people gathered around the bonfire that nobody would care. I pulled off my skirt, leaving myself in nothing but my panties, then took off the bandeau top that kept slipping down, leaving me completely half-naked.

I heard Logan call my name.

Glancing over my shoulder, I found him already walking after me, his expression somewhere between exasperated and amused.

The cold water rushed over my feet as the next wave rolled in.

I gasped.

“Oh my God.”

Logan immediately laughed.

“Still think this was a good idea?”

“Yes.”

“You sound miserable.”

“Yes,” I repeated, shivering. “But that's not the point.”

“The point being?”

I turned toward him with a grin.

“The point is that I've never done this before.”

I glanced back at him. Logan was already right behind m To my surprise, he was tugging off his shirt as he walked, tossing it somewhere onto the sand before kicking off the rest of his clothe A second later, he was following me into the ocean in nothing but his boxer

“See?” I called over my shoulder, smiling triumphantly. “You wanted to do this

“You make it sound like I had a choice

“You did

“No, I didn't

The water climbed higher as we moved farther from short.

“Please don't do this and then start a fight with me because you had to take care of me, Logan

Logan just shook his head, running a hand through his damp hai

“Nah. We're not fighting anymore. "

His eyes flickered over me briefly before returning to my face.

“Someone has to stop you from making terrible decisions. "

“That's funny coming from a hockey player."

Logan laughe

The sound was swallowed almost immediately by the waves crashing around us.

When the water reached our waists, I bent down and dipped beneath the surface, letting the cold ocean soak my hair.

For a second, everything disappeared.

The noise.

The bonfire.

The people.

The thoughts constantly running through my head.

When I came back up, pushing my wet hair away from my face, I turned around.

Logan was closer.

Much close

The dark water moved around us as the moonlight reflected across the surface of the ocean.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

We just stood there, half-submerged in the water, looking at each other while the waves rolled around us. 

“Have you ever done this before?” I asked, reaching for his hand beneath the water.

Logan glanced down at our intertwined fingers before looking back at me.

“Gone swimming in the ocean at two in the morning?”

A smile tugged at my lips.

“Yeah.”

He shook his head.

“No. "

“Really? "

“Really..." I laughed softly " Not in the ocean and definitely not with a naked woman"

The corner of his mouth lifte

I immediately looked down at the water around us, laughin

“Well, look at that. I didn't even have to unblock you to show you my boobs. "

I meant it as a drunk joke.

A stupid on

The kind of thing that would've normally earned a sarcastic comment from Loga

But he didn't laug

The smile on his face faded slightl

And in the dim moonlight, I caught him running his tongue along the inside of his chee

My own smile faltere

"What? "

Logan shook his head onc

“Nothing. "

“That wasn't nothing

A wave rolled between us. His gaze dropped briefly to the water before returning to mine.

““I'm trying very hard to be respectful right now, gorgeous.”

I let the water carry me a little closer to his. The ocean had already risen past our waists, making it easy to drift through the waves without much effort.

Before he seemed to realize what I was doing, I wrapped my legs around his waist. My hands slid up to the back of his neck, my fingers disappearing into his damp curls.

“I love how your hair feels in my hands. "

The words came out absentmindedly, my attention completely drifting away from what he'd just said.

I smiled to myself, twirling one of the curls around my finger.

“You still haven't gone under.”

I looked at him with a small, toothless grin.

“Not even once."

For a moment, Logan just stared at me

Then his hands settled at my butt, holding me steady as another wave rolled between us

“That's because one of us has to be responsible here.”

"You're not responsible, John. Come on."

I said it lightly, leaning back just enough to put a little distance between us.

His eyes followed the movement.

I felt his gaze drift from my face to the curve of my collarbone before dropping lower right to my boobs.

For a second, he forgot to look away.

The realization made a genuine smile spread across my face.

"There you are," I murmured.

John exhaled sharply through his nose, already shaking his head.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"You know exactly what."

My smile only widened.

The ocean shifted around us, another wave rolling between our bodies. His hands tightened instinctively at my waist to keep me steady.

"Thought you were being responsible," I teased.

"I am."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I raised an eyebrow.

His jaw flexed.

"Being responsible doesn't mean I'm blind."

Heat rushed into my cheeks before I could stop it.

For the first time all night, I was the one who looked away.

Instead of answering with words, I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled us both down since he let me push him down.

The water closed over our heads—cold, sudden, and completely silent. For one perfect second, there was nothing but the salt and the dark and the weight of him against me.

Then we surfaced together, gasping.

I didn't let go.

Neither did he.

Water streamed down our faces as I wrapped my arms around his neck properly, pressing my chest fully against his. Skin to skin. No space left to hide.

His hands found my lower back, fingers splayed wide like he was trying to memorize the shape of me through the night.

I tilted my head and pressed my lips to his jaw first. Then his neck. Just below his ear. Small, lazy kisses that tasted like ocean and something else entirely—something that made my stomach tighten.

Logan's breath hitched.

I felt it.

And then I felt something else.

The thin cotton of his boxers, clinging to him in the water, had started to change. A pressure. A length. Pressing up against the inside of my thigh where I had him wrapped around me.

My own underwear was already soaked through.

Not from the ocean.

I pulled back just enough to look at him.

His jaw was set. His chest was rising and falling faster than the waves around us. Water dripped from his lashes, and his curls were plastered to his forehead.

Slowly, he reached up and pushed my wet hair away from my face. The back of his fingers trailed down my cheek, then my neck, then across my collarbone—barely touching, just the very tips, like he was memorizing the path.

I shivered.

"Logan."

He shook his head once. Gently.

"I can't kiss you again."

The words landed soft but final.

"Why not?"

His hand kept moving—over my shoulder, down my arm, until his thumb found the inside of my wrist where my pulse was hammering.

"Because you're drunk," he said quietly.

I opened my mouth.

"Don't," he added, before I could argue. "Don't tell me you're not. You are. And I'm not, not like you" He stopped, exhaled, and looked down at where our bodies were still pressed together in the dark water. "I'm not going to be something you wake up and regret."

The waves rolled between us.

My heart was so loud I was sure he could hear it.

"I don't think you would regret.”

I whispered and his eyes came back to mine.

"I can wait."

He said this while kissing my cheek, then my nose, and then the corner of my mouth.

"You don't have to pretend you don't want me and pretend that it is because I'm drunk, Logan."

I whispered it with my eyes closed. Feeling his lips trail down my neck softly, licking the salty sea droplets off my skin.

"Don't put words in my mouth."

"I'm not," he said quietly, his voice close enough to blur my thoughts. "I just know… if I hadn't said that we were dating, nothing would've changed between us. You wouldn't be looking at me the way you are now, and I'd probably still hate you just as much."

"Maybe not," I whispered. "But you don't hate me that much anymore, so it doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

I said it, and then he lifted his eyes to mine. I let out a sigh at the loss of his tongue on my skin.

"I'm not having this conversation with you drunk, gorgeous."

He said it. I pouted at him.

"Not even kiss me?"

"No."

He said it while nibbling on my neck, making me let out a moan that made him groan in return. His cock pressed against my panties.

"But you can kiss my skin? "

He looked at me. "Fuck. That's not a good idea either."

I moved against him deliberately. "Don't you want to feel how my tits feel in your tongue?”

I asked and he looked at me.His hands tightened on my hips.

"Stop," he said, but his voice cracked.

"Make me."Instead, he pulled me closer—not kissing me, just holding me. His face buried in my neck. His breath hot and uneven.

I moaned his name, grinding against him. The thin cotton of his boxers did nothing to hide how hard he was. I felt every inch of it pressing against me through my soaked underwear, and I rolled my hips again just to hear the sound he made—a low, guttural groan that vibrated against my throat.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Then his lips trailed down.

Down my collarbone. Down my chest. His mouth was everywhere at once—licking, sucking, biting softly at the salt on my skin. His hands gripped my waist like he was trying to anchor himself.

And then his lips closed around my nipple.

I gasped. My back arched. His tongue circled slowly, then flicked, and I felt it all the way down between my legs. He sucked harder, and my fingers tangled in his wet curls, pulling him closer, begging him without words.

"Logan…" His name came out broken.

His other hand slid down my stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my bikini bottoms. He didn't go further. Just rested them there. Waiting. Asking.

I pushed his hand lower myself.

He groaned against my breast, and the vibration made me moan loud enough that the waves couldn't swallow it."Please," I whispered. "Please, Logan. I need-"

"I know what you need, and i can't give you."

His mouth moved to my other breast, sucking just as hard, just as hungry.

“Just feel.”

I grabbed his hand and brought it between us. Guided it inside my soaked bikini bottoms.

His fingers met wet heat immediately-slick, aching, ready.

"Fuck," he groaned against my skin. The word vibrated through my chest.

His fingers slid through me slowly, exploring, learning. His fingers dipped inside, and I gasped so loud I didn't recognize my own voice.I forced my eyes open. The moonlight caught his face. His lips were wet. His pupils were blown so wide there was almost no blue left. He looked feral. Hungry. Like he wanted to devour me and was barely holding himself back.

But then he pulled his hand away.

I looked at him with wide eyes.

"I can't do this."

The words landed like ice water.

My legs were still wrapped around him. My chest was still pressed against his. I could feel his heart slamming beneath my palms. He was still hard against me. Everything about his body was screaming yes.

But his eyes—his eyes were screaming something else.

"Logan—"

"No." He grabbed my hips and pushed me back. Not gentle this time. Not careful. He pried my legs from around his waist and set me down in the water like I was something burning his hands. "I can't."

The cold rushed back in.

I stood there, waist-deep in the ocean, staring at him. My body was still humming. I could still feel where his fingers had been.

"You just had your hand inside me," I said, my voice shaking. "You don't get to stop now and act like you're the good guy."

He flinched like I'd slapped him.

"You’re right." He ran both hands through his wet hair, tugging at the roots. His chest was heaving. His boxers were still straining. "I don’t get to act like anything. But I’m stopping anyway." He pushed me away, and I wrapped my arms around myself, a scowl on my face.

“Alright.”

I said it while turning to leave the sea, my head dizzy and my body confused. My drunk mind was screaming at me not to be dramatic.

When I got out of the water, I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed, and I heard John right behind me calling my name.

“Y/n.”

“I’m fine. I already told you, all of this is nonsense. A mistake.”

“What?”

I looked at him while I finished putting my clothes on and ran a hand through my hair.

“I can’t be around you. I can’t. That’s why I blocked you, that’s why I’ve been ignoring you.”

"You want to be close to me, that’s the problem."

"Yes! That’s the problem and it’s stupid."

“Stupid?” he repeated, shaking his head. “You think wanting me is stupid?”

“Yes! Because we always end up fighting.”

“Well, you are choosing that. You run away from everything. I’m not saying I know how to deal with it, but you definitely don’t,” he said, calmer now, but more dangerous because of it. “You blocked me, you ran away, you keep saying you can’t be around me… but you’re still here arguing with me.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is,” he insisted, taking another step closer. “Because if you really didn’t want me around, you wouldn’t keep coming back into my orbit every single time.”

My breath caught, and I hated that he noticed. Hated the way his eyes flicked down to my mouth for half a second before meeting my gaze again.

“That’s not fair. You do the same thing as me,” I whispered.

He tilted his head slightly.

“At least I’m being honest,” he said. “You ran. You do stupid shit because you’re scared and you can’t be honest. That’s why you’re called ‘ice heart’—you don’t let anyone see you.”

“Fuck that, John Logan. You also can’t be honest. You only say and do what benefits you—on hockey, on a fake relationship, whoever you’re going to slip with. I’m sorry that my parents fucked my head so I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

I turned my back on him then, walking back toward the bonfire and leaning against the palm trunk where we had been sitting before going into the sea.

While I was walking back, he followed behind me, his shoulders slumped, defeated, his voice breaking slightly in the middle of the words.

“Y/n… shit, no… I’m sorry, fuck, I don’t want to fight again.”

The heat from the fire should’ve been comforting, but it didn’t reach me properly—not with my chest still tight and my thoughts spinning too fast to settle.

“We’re good.”

I pulled my knees up slightly, arms wrapping around myself again as I stared into the flames, refusing to look back at him.

Behind me, I could feel him still there. Still watching. Still not leaving.

Of course he wasn’t.

The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, like neither of us knew how to step out of what we had just said.

I swallowed hard, jaw clenched, forcing my breathing to slow down even though it didn’t want to.

My fingers dug lightly into my arms as I tried to keep myself steady, pretending the fire was enough to anchor me when everything else felt like it was drifting.

Then his voice came again, closer this time, quieter.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said and Félix showed up again a few minutes later with another beer in his hand and that smile of someone who had never learned the meaning of the word limit.

“You’re gonna kill her with tequila,” Logan commented before Félix even got close enough.

“Relax, hockey boy. She survived entire summers with me.”

“Unfortunately, I did survive,” I muttered.

Félix laughed under his breath before crouching slightly in front of me, resting his forearms against his thighs.

“So do you still dance on tables when you drink or did you finally mature?”

A drunken smile spread across my face as I shrugged.

“I think I matured. I don’t threaten people anymore.” I lifted one finger, making Félix laugh.

“Liar, i just saw you threatening the hockey boy.” he answered immediately. “I think you just got prettier while threatening people now..”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” I muttered, already laughing.

“It absolutely was.”

“I wasn’t threatening him, we were talking. I said, and Felix looked at Logan who was still standing behind us: ‘you were talking.’ Felix asked and Logan crossed his arms, looking down at my head.

‘something like that.’”

“You know my mom thought you disappeared because you got pregnant?” Félix said, alternating his gaze between me and Logan.

I laughed nasally at the absurdity of what had just come out of his mouth. Félix and I had never slept together without a condom, and I was on birth control. There had been absolutely zero chance of that happening.

“Shut up. That would literally never happen.”

“I still can’t believe you went from nighttime bunny to someone who gets sleepy when she drinks.”

“Mhm. Now I’m a sleepy sad bunny.”

I opened my eyes and saw him smiling at me.

“So are you two together?”

The question came out genuinely curious. I looked at Logan, then back at Félix. And before I could answer, Logan spoke first.

“We’re just friends, man. Nothing more.”

And somehow that made me lose hope all over again. Because deep down, I think I wanted him to lie.

“Friends like us?” Félix laughed.

I held my breath while shaking my head.

“No.”

“Friends like you two?” Logan asked.

Félix grinned widely.

“You get it, man.”

He slapped Logan’s shoulder before grabbing my hand.

“Come on. I think you need some water. You’re gonna throw up your organs tomorrow morning if you don’t drink like a trillion gallons.”

He stood up while pulling me gently with him, and I went because he was right.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I stood, slipping away from Logan’s warm arms. But before I could fully step away, I felt his fingers brush against mine, stopping me.

“You sure?”

“I’m okay, I promise. I trust Félix. I don’t wanna ruin another one of your nights because of me. It’s okay.”

I gave him a soft smile before walking away from Logan again. And it hurt my chest a little because I didn’t want to. But I needed distance from his horrible charm that kept softening my heart. Félix still held my hand while leading me through the people scattered across the sand, avoiding crooked chairs, empty bottles, and couples too drunk to notice anything around them. The music came muffled from the speaker near the bonfire, mixed with the distant sound of waves.

And even walking beside Félix, I could still feel Logan’s eyes on my back. Which was ridiculous because he had literally just said we were only friends.

Just friends.

Nothing more.

My stomach sank again at the thought.

“You got quiet,” Félix commented while opening a cooler near the house’s porch.

“I’m drunk. My brain is functioning at twenty percent capacity.”

“Liar. Drunk you talks more. Way more. Including dangerously stupid things.”

A laugh escaped me while he handed me a bottle of water.

“You invent half those stories.”

“Me? Never.” He placed a hand dramatically against his chest. “You literally tried convincing a police officer the jet ski belonged to you because ‘spiritually you had a connection.’”

I opened my mouth in outrage.

“It was abandoned.”

“It was parked.”

“Details.”

Félix laughed quietly while leaning against the counter behind him. For a few seconds, he just watched me drink water in silence.

“You wanna go home? I know when you’re tired.”

The truth was that he didn’t know anything about me anymore. But I also didn’t want to go back to the house where I might find Logan with another girl or something like that.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Sweet.”

He clapped his hands together excitedly before we started walking back while talking. Félix was a really nice guy. But something still felt missing. When we got to his place, he kissed me. But when I climbed into his lap, I couldn’t feel anything. I pulled my face away from his, looking into his amused eyes that clearly found the situation funny.

I kissed him again.

But when I pulled away the second time, all I could think was that I wished it were John. So I huffed before sliding off his lap and throwing myself onto the bed while staring at the ceiling. Félix let out a quiet laugh beside me before dropping onto the bed too, resting his head on his arm while watching me.

“Hey.” He laughed again. “Relax, bunny. I’ll survive.”

I sighed in frustration into my hands.

“This is humiliating.”

“Nah.” Félix turned his head toward me. “I think it just means your head’s somewhere else.”

I closed my eyes for a second. Because he was right. Unfortunately.

“You wanna know the worst part?” I murmured.

“Always.”

I slowly turned my face toward him.

“I was literally kissing you while thinking about someone else.”

Félix widened his eyes theatrically before placing a hand against his chest.

“Cruel. Brutal. Destroyer of men.”

A laugh escaped me despite the embarrassment.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied, amused. “But I strongly suspect you might hate a very specific hockey player right now.” Groaning in frustration, I looked at Félix beside me.

“We’re just friends.”

Félix stared at me for two entire seconds before starting to laugh. Actually laugh. The kind of laugh that made his shoulders shake.

“Oh, bunny...” He dragged a hand down his face while still laughing. “You say that after practically melting in his lap all night.”

“Yep, and he still doesn’t want me.”

“I’m pretty sure he does. He looks at you the way I looked at you for years.”

I looked at him and Felix shook his head, making a face. ‘Relax.’ And he continued: ‘The point is, he doesn’t want you because you only tell him you want him when you’re drunk, or because you don’t let yourself give him a chance to show that to you when you’re sober.”

I rolled my eyes hard.

“You’re awful.”

“No. I just have perfect vision.”

He shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed, watching me for a moment more quietly this time.

“Want me to be honest?”

“That never brings me happiness, but go ahead.”

“I think you two are idiots.”

A nasal laugh escaped me.

“Wow. Deep.”

“No, listen.” He pointed at me. “You look at him like he could rip your soul out through your mouth.”

“Félix...”

“And he looks at you like he’s constantly five seconds away from committing a crime.”

My face heated instantly. Because unfortunately? That sounded way too accurate.

“Then why did he say we’re just friends?”

The question came out quieter this time. More honest than I wanted it to. Félix tilted his head slightly, studying me.

“Because maybe he’s stupid. Maybe he’s afraid of holding you close to him, I don’t know, it depends.”

He makes a pause.

“Or maybe he’s trying not to make things worse.”

I frowned.

“What things?”

“Things like clearly wanting you while also acting like it’s a terrible idea.”

That made my chest ache in an irritating way.

Because Logan really did do that.

Pulled me close. Looked at me like that. Got irritated whenever another guy came near me.

But then a second later he’d act like there was some invisible line between us he couldn’t cross.

“He pushes me away all the time.”

“But you keep coming back.”

I went quiet. Félix smiled slightly when he realized I didn’t have an answer.

“That’s the problem, bunny,” he murmured. “You’d never feel like this over someone who didn’t actually get to you.”

I huffed, sinking deeper into the mattress.

“But we don’t work.”

I whined. Félix exhaled through his nose, resting his head against the headboard while watching me silently for a few seconds.

No jokes.

No teasing.

Which was almost scary coming from him.

“Maybe you really don’t,” he finally said. “But that’s never stopped anyone from falling in love, bunny.”

My heart stumbled inside my chest instantly.

“I’m not in love with him.”

Félix slowly raised an eyebrow.

His entire expression screamed liar.

“You left this place for two years. Came back now. And in less than a week you’re already looking at this guy like he’s simultaneously your biggest problem and your favorite drug.”

I frowned immediately.

“I don’t think I know how to love someone, Félix…” “Of course you do, silly.” he answered calmly. “And that’s where you’re making the mistake...you can’t try to sabotage your own happiness just because someone broke you along the way.”

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it again.

Because that was the worst part.

Logan didn’t make me feel bad.

He made me feel everything.

And maybe that was exactly the problem.

“He just...” I rubbed a tired hand over my face. “Confuses me.”

Félix nodded slowly like he’d expected that answer.

“Then stop pretending this is friendship.”

“But he said...”

“I heard what he said,” Félix interrupted. “I also saw the way he looked at me when I talked to you.”

A short laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

“He was just drunk.”

“Oh, right.” Félix nodded, amused. “ Beacuse a drunk guy would have the sense to care whether they’re about to hook up with a drunk girl or not.”

I stared back at the ceiling.

Trying to ignore the fact that maybe Félix was right about literally everything. Comfortable silence settled between us for a few seconds until I heard him sigh dramatically beside me.

“You know what annoys me most about all this?”

“What?”

“I would’ve had a very solid chance of getting laid tonight if that emotionally repressed hockey player didn’t exist.”

A tired laugh escaped me.

“You’re still incredibly full of yourself.”

“And incredibly handsome. Don’t forget that part.”

“I never could. Your ego won’t let me.”

Félix grinned proudly before standing up from the bed.

“Alright. Executive decision. You’re going to sleep because you’re drunk, emotionally unstable, and clearly in love.”

“I hate that word.”

“Tough. Still true.”

He walked toward the bedroom door, but stopped before leaving.

“Oh, and just so we’re clear?”

“Hmm?”

“You still matter to me after two years, bunny. If you need me to beat him up, just let me know.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling.

“You don’t even like me that much.”

Félix placed a hand over his chest, offended.

“Bunny, you were literally my favorite disaster for three summers straight. Of course I like you.”

That warmed my chest in a way I hadn’t expected.

Because Félix had always been that: chaos, comfort, and terrible timing. He winked one last time before turning off the bedroom light. And the worst part? Even after everything. Even lying in another guy’s bed. The only thing on my mind was still Logan.

English isn't my first language, so pls go easy on me.

If you find anything that isn't in English, please let me know. Sometimes I write things in Portuguese to help me find my place in the story faster, and occasionally they slip through unnoticed.

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If your friends ever tell you they’re going to stay loyal to you, don’t trust them. Especially if those friends are hooking up with giant hockey players. And especially if those friends are named Hannah and Allie.

My life was miserable. Miserable because, for some idiotic reason, I had finally realized just how much I missed Logan bothering me all day through text messages. How much I missed his irritating presence taking up every second of my day. But that didn’t mean I was happy with my current situation.

Because my reality, at that moment, was being crushed into an incredibly uncomfortable position between John Logan and Tucker, while Allie chattered away in the front seat behind Dean in the passenger seat, and next to Hannah, who was practically glued to Garrett. Beau was driving while singing musical theater songs with Allie as if we were inside a Broadway production instead of trapped in a car for hours.

“This is so cool! Y/n and I used to go to Delaware together when we were kids. Oh my God, it’s like we’re traveling back in time. We have to recreate that picture on the pier!”

“You guys used to spend summers at the beach together? That’s adorable,” Hannah commented with a smile.

Allie nodded excitedly, leaning forward in her seat while staring out at the road through the window.

“Her parents and mine rented houses near the beach every year. We spent all day running around in the sand, stealing fries from the boardwalk, and pretending we knew how to swim in the ocean without dying.”

“Hey, I knew how to swim,” I grumbled.

“You almost got dragged away by a wave when you were nine.”

“Details. I was nine.”

I narrowed my eyes before slowly rolling them. I shifted in my seat and, in an almost desperate attempt to avoid looking at Logan, squeezed myself closer to Tucker’s side. He immediately stretched his arm out behind me along the back of the seat, pulling me a little closer. And I knew— honestly knew — that there was absolutely nothing romantic about it, so I simply relaxed against the seat.

The group conversation slowly started to scatter, everyone drifting into different random topics, and I took advantage of the moment to adjust myself again. That was when I heard Logan let out a low, irritating nasal laugh beside me. It made my eyes meet his for the first time since the morning I walked out of his room after the Delta Pi party.

Which was honestly a little shocking. Because apparently, after Logan found out I had blocked him after the last message I sent, the tension between us had increased fifty times more than it already was. And honestly? We could barely look at each other without turning the entire atmosphere into an emotional time bomb. So looking back into those deep brown eyes again was devastating for my poor heart.

I looked away too quickly, as if I’d been caught doing something forbidden, and felt Tucker’s fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of my hair from where his arm rested behind me. At the exact same moment, Logan spread his legs even wider, pushing my knee to the side. I immediately lowered my gaze, letting out an irritated huff while staring at the ridiculously exaggerated amount of space he was taking up. I was already uncomfortable, and that asshole was clearly making it worse on purpose.

“Can you have at least a little self-awareness and stop taking up the entire seat?” Logan slowly turned his face toward me, as if genuinely surprised that I was finally speaking to him.

“I think maybe I should ask Tucker that because, damn…” Logan covered his mouth, pretending to look shocked. “You’re practically sitting in his lap.”

“And you’re taking up the space of three different people.”

“They’re my legs, sweetheart. I can’t exactly rip them off.”

“Too bad.”

“Logan, there’s actually a name for this…” Tucker started before continuing, “Jealousy.” Tucker said through a fake cough. I immediately shook my head, lowering my face as I felt my cheeks heat with irritation.

“Shut up, man,” Logan muttered beside me.

Tucker raised his hands in surrender, finally removing his arm from behind me while a low laugh escaped him.

“Hey, I’m just observing facts.”

“Then observe in silence,” I murmured. I huffed irritably and shifted farther away from both of them, trying to find a minimally comfortable position on that cramped seat. The problem was that now Tucker had removed his arm from behind me and Logan was still taking up too much space, leaving me with practically no choice except to stay pressed against him.

The universe clearly hated me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and kept my eyes fixed on the back of Hannah’s head, pretending to have an absurd amount of interest in the color of her hair while feeling Logan move beside me.

“You’re pouting,” he commented quietly near my ear after a few seconds. I looked at him, equally pouty, and whispered back:

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“And you’re annoying me.”

“That’s not exactly new.”

The corner of my mouth almost lifted. Almost. And apparently Logan noticed, because he let out another one of those low nasal laughs — the kind I’d already learned to hate for a completely different reason than I should — before shifting in his seat and deliberately leaning his body closer to mine.

“Oh, so I can still make you laugh. Thought it'd be impossible since, y'know... you blocked me.”

I immediately turned to look at him.

Mistake number one.

Because suddenly the space between us felt way too small.

“It's better this way,” I said.

Apparently, that wasn't enough for him.

Logan leaned in until his lips were just beside my ear.

“You were awfully tempted to send me pictures of your tits, gorgeous.”

“Oh, sure. I was just desperate to send you pictures so you could jerk off to them,” I shot back through gritted teeth.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

A slow grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“You almost smiled.”

“Did you take one too many hits in hockey and start hallucinating?” I asked sweetly. “You should probably see a doctor about that.”

“I’m just paying attention to what matters.”

His voice dropped lower. Slower.

My heart immediately stumbled.

I hated that.

Hated how easily he could get under my skin. Hated how every conversation somehow turned into this ridiculous game neither of us seemed capable of stopping.

“You should really find a hobby, Logan.”

“I had one.”

His eyes never left mine.

“And you blocked it.”

My stomach tightened.

´´I delated.´´

Fuck him. Fuck that stupid smirk. And fuck the fact that part of me was fighting not to smile.

´´Yeah, same thing.´´ I looked away far too quickly, focusing on literally anything that wasn't him. Big mistake. Because now I was painfully aware of how close he was. Of the warmth radiating from him. Of the stupid satisfaction practically glowing off his face. “Look at me,” he said softly.

I immediately rolled my eyes.

“Absolutely not.” His grin widened. And somehow that made everything worse. Twenty minutes later, in silence, Logan nudged me with his knee. I looked at him once, a silent warning. He nudged me again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He nudged me a third time — and then I looked at him for real, serious.

“Stop doing that.”

He smiled at me like a bratty child, but his eyes looked nothing childish at all. He looked away first, pretending innocence. And one second after I stayed silent, he nudged me again.

I huffed. Then threw one leg over his. My thigh landed between his spread legs, taking up the space he had also claimed. Now our bodies were way too close. My thigh brushed dangerously against his cock — which, through completely accidental curiosity, was half-hard.

I looked up at him way too quickly.

Logan’s gaze darkened. One of his hands dropped onto my thigh. And I touched his face, brushing the hair that had fallen over his eye away while staring into those dark eyes.

“Behave, Logan.”

I said it quietly before pulling away from every point of contact between us. Idiotic bastard. And my entire body reacted before my brain could protest. The corner of his mouth lifted slowly. Idiot. Complete idiot.

But, for the first time since I got into that car, Logan finally stopped physically provoking me. No more knees nudging me, no more purposely taking up even more space. He just stayed there beside me, absurdly close, as if that tiny interaction had been enough to calm something inside him. Which honestly was worse. Because now I could feel every detail of his presence. The warmth of his body beside mine.

His cologne. The slow rhythm of his breathing. And especially the strange silence between us, heavy with things neither of us seemed willing to admit in front of everyone else. Up front, Allie discreetly turned around in her seat, her narrowed eyes moving from me to Logan.

“You two are being terrifyingly quiet. I´m scared.”

“You should be scared.”

I said it just as Dean immediately laughed.

“Wait until they find out.”

Now this is the part where I ask: find out what?

But let me spare you that part because, honestly? They only decided to tell us once we got to Delaware. And I wasn’t even remotely surprised when I found out the “carefully separated” rooms had conveniently placed me and Logan in the exact same room. Because apparently my friends had completely lost their fear of dying.

“Don’t kill us, okay? It’s just that you two make a great couple. Like…” Tucker started slowly while Logan and I were practically cornered at the bedroom door they had chosen for us.

“Like an old married couple that argues all the time,” Hannah completed with a guilty smile.

“Mixed with rabbits in heat,” Allie added without even a little shame.

“Oh my God.” I muttered while staring at my friends without a shred of expression.

Dean started laughing while pointing at me and Logan.

“You two can’t even look at each other on campus without creating weird tension. At least here you’ll be forced to talk.”

“We talk normally,” Logan answered from behind me.

“Yeah, what you guys are saying isn’t true. We’re fine with each other.” The silence that followed was so absurd that I immediately realized my mistake.

Because nobody believed it. Not even a little. Garrett literally turned his face away trying to hide his laughter. Hannah lowered her head while biting her lips. Dean let out a loud laugh without a trace of shame while Allie stared at me with an expression way too sympathetic for someone who had just thrown me into the same room as John Logan.

And Logan…

Logan was completely silent behind me.

Which was worse.

Much worse.

I slowly turned to look at him, fully expecting that arrogant, irritating smile he always wore whenever he knew something I didn’t want to admit. But he wasn’t smiling.

He was looking at me.

Just looking.

With that intense gaze that made my brain forget how to function properly.

“Well?” Dean repeated through laughter. “You two practically ripped each other’s heads off during the whole car ride.”

“That’s their version of flirting,” Beau commented.

“It’s disturbing,” Tucker added.

“Thanks for the support, guys. I muttered dryly.

“We support love,” Allie answered dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest.

“This isn’t love,” Logan and I said at the exact same time.

Dean immediately pointed at us both. “That. Right there. That terrifying couple synchronization.”

“Oh my God, you literally talk at the same time,” Hannah laughed and i rolled my eyes hard before dragging a hand down my face, already completely out of patience.

“You guys don’t understand,” I muttered, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “We don’t work because we’re complete opposites.” I let out a tired little laugh. “And honestly? We were better as friends. Which we never really were, to be honest. So… I don’t know. We’re nothing. We never were anything, guys.”

The hallway went silent for a second. Then Logan let out a short laugh through his nose behind me.

“She’s right.”

My heart stumbled in my chest even though I didn’t know exactly why. I slowly turned toward him again and he was leaning against the wall beside the bedroom door, arms crossed, looking absurdly relaxed.

But I knew him well enough to notice the details. The tight jaw. His fingers tapping slowly against his own arm. The way he avoided looking directly at me.

“We were never anything,” he repeated with a calmness that felt way too strange. “So you guys can stop acting like this is some tragic love story.” It hurt more hearing it come from him, and I hated that. Allie immediately grimaced.

“You two are so anoying. If you’re nothing, then stop fighting like an old married couple.”

“I seriously don’t know where you guys get that from,” I grumbled, hugging my own body while staring at the bedroom door as if it could magically disappear.

“Great. Since you’re nothing, then you can tolerate each other,” Dean said, clapping his hands once before grabbing Allie around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.

She immediately let out a scandalized scream.

“Y/N, I’M SORRY! I SWEAR IT WAS FOR A GOOD CAUSE!”

Hannah only gave me a smile far too guilty for someone who had obviously been part of the plan from the beginning.

But honestly? Was I upset with them? Yes. Very. But I also wasn’t stupid enough to pretend I was surprised. Because, looking back now, it was obvious those emotionally manipulative snakes would do exactly this. So I simply turned my back before anyone could say anything else and walked into the room without ceremony, dragging my suitcase with me. I threw it into the corner harder than necessary.

The room was beautiful. Big, too. It had a small balcony overlooking the beach, two little tables near the window, and cozy lighting that felt irritatingly romantic for a situation that definitely did not need to feel romantic.

“It’s not like we’ve never slept in the same bed before, right?”

Logan broke the silence and I glanced at him over my shoulder before nodding silently.

“Sure.”

The word came out much weaker than I intended. Logan calmly closed the door behind him before tossing his backpack near my suitcase. He looked way too comfortable in this situation. Irritatingly comfortable. Meanwhile, my brain was collapsing just from noticing the size of that bed. Because sleeping in the same bed as Logan once had already been a terrible idea. Sleeping together again felt like practically begging for trouble. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him before my body decided to remember things it absolutely did not need to remember right now.

Like his warmth.

The weight of his arm around my waist.

The way he pulled me close in his sleep like it was automatic.

Idiot.

“Relax,” Logan murmured, as if he could read my thoughts. “I promise I’ll behave.” I let out a short, incredulous laugh.

“You literally can’t behave for more than five minutes.”

“That’s offensive.”

“That’s the truth.”

He smiled sideways. That crooked, lazy, dangerously beautiful smile that made my heart act like a complete traitor to my own body.

´´Listen...” he started. “I'm sorry for the way I talked to you the last time we were together. I texted you after, but apparently you never even got around to reading it.”

Of course he had apologized.

And I had blocked him before I ever got the chance to see it.

Stupid.

His voice lost part of its usual teasing edge, becoming quieter. More serious.

I thought maybe it'd be better if I couldn't talk to you. Then maybe I'd stop screwing everything up,” I murmured.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him right away.

Instead, I crouched down and focused on untying my skates.

“You would never screw things up.”

The certainty in his voice made my chest tighten.

I let out a quiet scoff and shook my head.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I already did.”

Only then did I look up at him.

Logan's expression softened almost immediately.

“No, you didn't.”

The words came so naturally that it was almost irritating.

Like he genuinely believed them.

Like it wasn't even up for debate.

I only looked at him. Because there was no way he could know. No way he could know that I fell asleep thinking about his kiss and woke up wanting his mouth on my skin. No way he could know that avoiding him hadn't made anything easier. It had only made me miss him. A humorless laugh escaped me.

“And I understand why you were angry,” I said quietly. “I was irresponsible when it came to the drinking, but I told you… I knew you were there. That's why I accepted it. Still, it was stupid.”

“Yeah. It scared the hell out of me.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Thinking that guy could've done something to you.”

My fingers froze on the laces. Slowly, I looked up.

“You hit him because of that?” Logan let out a short breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh. Definitely not amusement.

“All I could see was red.” His gaze drifted away for a second before finding mine again. “And you being dragged out of that house.” His jaw flexed. The memory clearly still sitting somewhere ugly inside him. “It completely took me out of myself.” The room suddenly felt quieter. Smaller. For the first time since we'd walked in, I really looked at him. “I told you the truth when I said the only reason I didn’t completely destroy that guy right there was because you needed me.”

“Thank you for that,” I said softly. “Even though you didn't have to.” I took a step toward him without thinking. Just one. Like some stupid part of me had forgotten we weren't supposed to do this anymore. The realization hit immediately, and I stopped myself. Logan's gaze flickered downward. To the step I'd taken. Then back to my face. “Are we okay?”

“Are you okay?”

He changed the question, and I bit the inside of my cheek, shrugging honestly.

“Not really. Are you?”

“That son of a bitch at the rink got me pretty good in the ribs, so no.” He said it while lowering his head with a laugh, and I did the same. “I didn’t like being on bad terms with you, gorgeous.” My smile faded immediately. Not because I disliked hearing it. Quite the opposite. “I don't think I could go back to what we were before.” His voice was quieter now. More careful. “Because before... I didn't know you.”

My heart tightened so hard it actually hurt. Because that was exactly the damn problem. Before was easy. Before Logan was just Logan. The irritating guy who teased me at parties, sent me stupid texts during class, and showed up in my room uninvited to steal food and get on my nerves. But now I knew him. I knew the way he went quiet when he was worried.

The way he clenched his fists when he lost his temper. The way he looked at me like he was constantly trying to decide between kissing me or arguing with me.

And unfortunately, that changed everything.

I swallowed hard before looking away.

“Pretending to date was a terrible idea,” I muttered, and Logan sat down beside me, nodding.

“You know I didn’t actually hook up with that girl in the bathroom at the party that day, right?”

His voice was quiet.

Careful.

I looked at him without saying anything.

Logan stayed seated beside me, his elbows resting on his knees for a moment before he finally lifted his gaze to meet mine.

“I’m sorry it looked that way,” he continued. “I was just trying to get something out of my head.”

My stomach tightened.

“Something?” I repeated quietly.

Because suddenly I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that something had been.

“Someone,” he corrected softly.

My chest tightened even more.

“It’s fine,” I said, lowering my gaze to my hands.

“I’m sorry my mom interrupted you in the middle of practice that day,” I said after a moment, lowering my eyes to my hands resting on my thighs. “She’s not exactly used to being nice.”

A short laugh escaped him. Not because it was funny. Because he knew exactly how much of an understatement that was.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But I’m used to parents not liking me, so.”

The embarrassment burned under my skin.

“Still. You didn’t deserve that. It’s not you,” I added with a small shake of my head. “It’s everyone. She’s like that with anyone who doesn’t follow her rules.” Logan raised an eyebrow. “I think she might actually hate me, though,” I admitted with a small shrug. “So don’t take it personally if she runs into you again and treats you like shit.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Logan nudged my shoulder lightly with his.

“I've had hockey coaches scream worse things at me.”

I glanced up.

“That’s not helping.”

“It wasn't supposed to.” And despite myself, I smiled. We looked at each other again, and nobody said anything else, because there weren’t enough words for whatever this was — but there was something between us.

A knock at the door came along with someone yelling that it was time to go because we were heading to a midnight luau and needed to get ready. So I stood up while Logan rubbed his face with both hands. I walked over to my suitcase and knelt down, grabbing an oversized shirt I had brought to sleep in.

The moment I lifted it up — which made Logan genuinely laugh — he threw himself back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows.

“Well, no more wanting to kill each other.”

“Oh, don’t dream. That’ll never stop.”

“Okay, but since we're friends now, you have to promise you'll go into the ocean at night.”

Logan said it with a grin. I immediately laughed and shook my head.

“No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

He pressed his palms together dramatically. Then he gave me those ridiculous puppy-dog eyes. The ones that should've looked stupid on a six-foot-something hockey player. And somehow didn't.

“Logan.”

“Gorgeous.”

“No.”

“Gorgeous.”

I groaned.

He was smiling now, clearly enjoying himself.

“The ocean at night is terrifying.”

“It’s fun.”

“It’s where people get murdered.”

“It’s Delaware, not a horror movie.”

“You don't know that.”

His laugh echoed through the room. Warm. Easy. The kind that made it impossible not to smile back.

“Please,” he tried again. “Just once.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“You're unbelievable.”

“That's not a no.”

“It absolutely was.”

His grin only widened.

Later that night, I walked beside Hannah and Allie. Before coming here, we had agreed to bring outfits that would look good in pictures, so I was wearing a deep green set that looked almost wild and enchanting at the same time. The top was fitted and delicate, covered in pale floral embroidery spreading across the sheer fabric like vines drawn over skin. Tiny beaded fringes hung from the hem, brushing against my body with every movement. The skirt sat low on my waist, short enough to leave most of my legs exposed. The fabric was light, layered, and asymmetrical, moving easily when I walked, mixing lace, sheer panels, and golden details. My stomach remained completely exposed between the skirt and the top, emphasizing the curve of my waist and making the look far bolder than anything I would normally have the courage to wear.

Allie wore a long sheer blue skirt with a blue-and-white top that pushed her chest up and left practically everything on display, while Hannah wore a seafoam-green dress that flowed down her legs in sheer ruffled layers and pushed her breasts upward. The moment I put the outfit on, I almost gave up on going out dressed like that. There was too much skin showing — my stomach was exposed, my legs were exposed — and I felt completely out of my comfort zone. But when Logan, who had been behind me pulling on a shirt, looked up and saw me, he stopped.

And I swear to God he stopped breathing for a second.

Immediately, I turned toward him before glancing down at my own body in the mirror, biting my bottom lip nervously.

“I don't care if you're trying to be nice. Just tell me the truth… does it really look that bad?” I asked, turning back toward the mirror. “Like… really bad?” I swallowed hard. “The little bit of stomach fat I have is way too noticeable and maybe, uh… I don’t know, maybe my waist doesn’t look right in this. Jesus, you know what? Never mind. I’m changing.” I spoke way too fast, rambling while staring at myself in the mirror, and before I could fully turn around again, Logan walked over and grabbed my shoulders.

“Shut up. Seriously, stop. You...you look hot.”

I looked at him, and for a second my shoulders just dropped. And somehow that’s how I ended up at a luau, sitting around a bonfire with a beer can in one hand and sharing a microphone with Allie in the other while we screamed Best Song Ever through our laughter in front of a crowd of complete strangers.

When we finished singing, we went to grab another beer, and Allie nudged me with her elbow, making me glance over my shoulder toward our group.

“Oh, shit.”

“He’s still here.”

“Apparently.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

English isn't my first language, so pls go easy on me.

If you find anything that isn't in English, please let me know. Sometimes I write things in Portuguese to help me find my place in the story faster, and occasionally they slip through unnoticed.

firts taglist- If I forgot to add you to my taglist, pls don't hesitate to remind me!

I woke up far too late. Missed my classes, missed morning practice, missed the messages, missed who I was because i didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to face my swollen eyes, didn’t want to face Hannah or Allie worrying about me — even more worried than they already were when I came home barely able to breathe. I didn’t want to face real life because it was hurting me too much. I closed my eyes tiredly because even though I had slept far more than my required eight hours, I still felt emotionally exhausted. A knock echoed against my door and I kept my eyes shut.

“Sweetheart... are you okay?”

Allie’s voice drifted into my room and I stayed silent for a few seconds because I didn’t know if I could lie. So instead I just said,

“I’ll be okay.”

The words came out weak. Automatic. The kind of answer people gave when they were very clearly not okay. Silence lingered on the other side of the door for a few seconds.

Far too long.

Then I heard the doorknob turn slowly before the door cracked open just enough for the hallway light to spill into my dark room.

“Can I come in?”

Allie’s voice was soft. Careful. Like she was afraid of breaking me even more and i kept my eyes closed for a few more seconds before giving the smallest nod. I heard her footsteps move across the room. Slow. Careful. The mattress dipped beside me a moment later. And even then I still didn’t open my eyes because I knew what I probably looked like. Pathetic. My face had to be swollen. My head was pounding. My whole body felt too heavy to exist.

“Hannah went to get food,” Allie said quietly after a few seconds of silence. “And some meds for your headache.”

I swallowed hard. Of course they noticed. They always noticed.

“You missed morning practice,” she continued carefully. “And about... eight calls from Hayes.”

A small, miserable laugh escaped against the pillow.

“That´s great.”

My voice came out muffled. Allie stayed quiet for a few seconds before asking:

“Was it your mom?”

My chest tightened instantly. I finally opened my eyes, staring at the dark room in front of me while I felt my throat close up all over again.

“I think she hates me.”

The answer slipped out before I could stop it.

And saying it out loud... hurt more than I expected.

Allie let out a quiet sigh beside me.

“Hey.” Her hand touched my arm over the blanket. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true.”

My voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

“Everything she sees in me feels wrong.” I swallowed hard, trying to control the ridiculous tremble in my chin. “Always wrong. Never enough. Never disciplined enough. Never focused enough.” Allie’s silence felt worse than any response. “It’s like I’ll never be enough after he died.” The words came out so quietly they almost got stuck in my throat.

But Allie heard them.

The room fell silent for a few seconds while I stared at the dark wall in front of me, desperately trying not to cry again. Because I was tired. Tired of feeling everything so intensely.

“Y/n...” Her voice came out careful. Almost sad. “Your father dying destroyed your mother. But that doesn’t mean she has the right to destroy you too.”

My jaw tightened immediately.

I knew that.

I knew it.

And even then, some part of me still kept begging for her approval like a desperate child.

“I just wanted her to look at me once...” My voice failed. “Without looking disappointed.”

I felt Allie’s fingers gently stroking my arm over the blanket.

“I think your mom doesn’t know how to look at anything without searching for flaws anymore.”

A weak laugh escaped me. Bitter.

“Great. So I was literally raised by an emotional Olympic judge.”

Allie let out a small laugh through her nose too, but it died quickly. Because neither of us actually thought it was funny.

“She took the person who mattered most to you and used him against you. I'm sorry, babe, but she's a bitch.”

A laugh slipped from my lips, and I covered my face as a muffled, restrained cry escaped me a second later. I rubbed at my burning eyes.

"I hate being so emotionally messed up, Allie. I feel so stupid."

Allie moved closer and gently bumped her shoulder against mine.

"You're not stupid," she said quietly. "You're hurt. There's a difference."

I let out a shaky breath, staring down at my hands.

"Then why does it feel like I keep making the same mistakes?"

"Because you care," she replied. "You always care too much about people who don't deserve that much power over you."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"That's not exactly comforting."

"Maybe not." She shrugged. "But it's true."

“But what if she’s right?”

The question came out small and hesitant, just like my mother's voice had lived inside my head for years.

Allie stayed quiet for a few seconds before answering:

“You wanna know what I think?” I didn’t answer. Just squeezed my eyes shut tighter. "I think you’re so used to living like you have to earn love that you don’t even notice when you’re already loved.”

That made me slowly open my eyes.

“Who do you love, babe?”

The question made me look up at my friend, a frown immediately pulling at my brows as I shrugged.

“What do you mean?”

I sounded genuinely confused, and an impatient sigh slipped from her lips.

“I love you. I love my parents. I love the way Dean makes me feel. Who do you love?”

“I love you. I love Hannah…”

I stopped for a second.

My heart immediately supplied his name.

Screamed it.

Screamed for his eyes, his smile, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention.

“I don't know,” I murmured, forcing indifference into my voice as I looked back at her. Allie narrowed her eyes.

“Do you love Logan, or do you love the way he makes you feel?”

My stomach twisted.

“Logan and I are nothing.”

The words sounded hollow even to me. Allie stared at me for a moment before shaking her head.

“What happened between you and Logan, sweetheart? I heard Dean say you ran out crying yesterday morning before that demonic practice.”

“We fought.” I shrugged, trying to sound unaffected. “We don't work together.”

“That's not what I asked.”

I looked away. The silence stretched between us.

“Then what are you asking?”

She sighed again, softer this time.

“I'm asking why every time his name comes up, you look like you're trying to survive something.”

My throat tightened. I hated how easily she could see through me.

“Because he's complicated.”

“No.” She leaned forward. “Because you care.”

I laughed bitterly.

“That's the same thing.”

“It's really not.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she tilted her head.

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“If Logan walked through that door right now and told you he wanted you, would you say no?”

My heart stumbled. And that alone was answer enough. A tired laugh escaped through my nose as I turned my face further into the pillow.

“You don’t know. We seriously can’t stand each other.”

“That’s not true. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, which honestly makes it ridiculous that we ever thought he was in love with Hannah because look at you two...you fight like an old married couple.”

That pulled a weak laugh out of me even through the emotional exhaustion. Small. Pathetic. But real.

“We do not fight like an old married couple,” I mumbled into the pillow. Allie let out an unconvinced “mhm.”

“Sweetheart, I saw you two arguing four times in one week at Malone’s alone, and you were fighting about milkshake flavors like you’d been married fifteen years and were on the verge of divorce.”

I rolled my eyes immediately.

“He always starts it.”

“Exactly the kind of thing an old married couple would say.”

Another small laugh escaped me before dying quickly.

“I’m nothing to him, Allie.”

“But do you want to be?”

The question hung in the air just as the door slowly opened and Hannah walked in, a gentle smile already on her face.

“I brought cinnamon rolls because I know they’re your favorite.”

She lifted the paper bag. That earned a genuine smile from me.

A real one.

Apparently real enough to make Hannah dramatically sigh from the doorway.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, pressing a hand against her chest. “She still knows how to smile.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Shut up,” I muttered weakly.

“That’s it! Sarcasm too! We’re getting vital signs back!” Hannah celebrated, lifting the cinnamon rolls like a trophy. Allie laughed quietly beside me while Hannah sat at the edge of the bed. The sweet smell instantly filled the room. It was the first good thing I’d felt in the last twenty-four hours.

“You look like an emotional corpse,” Hannah commented calmly while opening the package.

“Thanks. That really helped my self-esteem.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied in the same tone before finally taking a better look at me. And her expression softened immediately. “Hey...”

Damn it. I hated that hey because it always came when someone realized I was about to fall apart. I quickly looked away before my eyes burned again.

“I know this is probably a bad time, but do either of you know why I saw Logan punching one of the football players in front of the Delta Pi fraternity?”

My entire body froze the second I heard his name come out of Hannah’s mouth so casually. Like it hadn’t just split something open right in the middle of everything I was already trying to hold together.

“What?” My voice came out low. Automatic.

Hannah frowned, resting her elbows on the mattress.

“I was walking back here and saw it. He was... out of control.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “He punched the guy for real. Not hockey fighting. Just straight-up with his fist.”

Allie shifted beside me.

“Why?”

Hannah shrugged, but she didn’t look comfortable.

“I don’t know. The guy was laughing, saying something to his friends, and then Logan just...snapped. It happened fast.”

I stayed still for too long. Long enough to notice the sound of my own breathing, too shallow, too wrong.

“He... snapped?” I repeated more quietly than I intended. Hannah nodded slowly, absentmindedly messing with the cinnamon roll packaging.

“That’s what it looked like.” She hesitated. “But it wasn’t just losing his temper. It was... weird. He saw the guy, froze for a second, then went straight for him. Didn’t even say anything.”

Allie frowned.

“And nobody stopped him before that?”

“Dean tried, but it was too late,” Hannah answered. “The guy dropped immediately. I think he broke his nose, maybe.”

My stomach twisted.

“Oh shit, here...” Allie suddenly sat up straighter, staring at her phone. “Jules posted the guy on the ground on her story.”

Her nose wrinkled.

“He definitely broke more than just a nose.”

Despite myself, I pushed myself up in bed.

“Let me see.”

Allie handed me her phone.

The second I saw the picture, I closed my eyes and dragged a hand down my face.

“What the fuck, Logan?”

The guy looked awful. I shoved the phone back toward her.

“That guy danced with me at the Delta Pi party the night before last.”

My voice came out quieter now.

“He wanted to take me home.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.

Allie lowered her phone.

Hannah's entire posture straightened.

“And Logan lost his mind because the guy put something in my drink.”

The memory hit harder than I expected. I swallowed.

“I got kind of out of it.”

My fingers twisted nervously in the blanket.

“I said a bunch of things to him afterward and...”

I laughed softly. Without humor.

“Honestly, he freaked out and I... I freaked out too. We ended up arguing because we kept saying we weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend, and he was yelling about how irresponsible I was, and it pissed me off. I know what happened was bad, and I hate that it happened...I feel awful about it...but he was still being a complete asshole.” Neither of them laughed. That made me look up. Hannah was staring at me. Not judging. Not teasing. Just staring. Like she wasn't quite sure what to say. I hated that look. So before she could say anything, I reached over and squeezed her hand. “I'm okay.”

My voice softened.

“I was being careful, I swear.” I shrugged. “I knew he was watching me. That's why I accepted the drink from the guy.”

For some reason, that only made their expressions worse.

“Did you tell him that?” Hannah asked.

I sat up uncomfortably in the sheets under the weight of both their stares. Suddenly, sitting between my two best friends felt a lot like being put on trial. I sighed.

“I did!” I paused, embarrassed like an old lady who’d just been caught watching porn. “...along with a bunch of other things.” I said, immediately lowering my gaze as the rest of the words slipped out of my mouth. The second the words left my mouth, Hannah and Allie exchanged a look. A very specific look. One that immediately made me suspicious. “What?”

Neither of them answered.

“What?” Hannah blinked. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“How dare you sit there and tell us you're nothing to him?” I groaned.

“You guys don't understand.”

“No, seriously.” She pointed at me. “You literally just told us a guy slipped something into your drink.”

“Yes, he did.”

“You told us you were barely coherent.”

“I know.”

“And Logan saw it happen. And then he spent the rest of the night taking care of you.” Feeling my head spin, I dropped my head back against the headboard.

“I know, Hannah.”

Her expression softened. A beat passed before she spoke again.

“Then maybe he freaked out because he thought something could've happened to you.” The room fell quiet. And the worst part?

She was right.

I knew she was.

Because I remembered.

I remembered exactly how Logan had looked at me that morning. Like he couldn't decide whether to pull me into his arms or put his fist through a wall. I remembered his hands framing my face when I could barely keep my eyes open. The way he kept saying my name. Over and over. The fear in his eyes. And somehow that was so much worse than anger. Because anger was familiar. Anger was easy. But someone caring about me that much? That terrified me.

“I should probably apologize, I know,” I muttered after a moment. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that he was an asshole for calling me stupid first thing in the morning.”

“Definitely,” Allie agreed.

“Absolutely,” Hannah added. I snorted despite myself. The corner of Hannah’s mouth twitched.

“Maybe.”

I stared up at the ceiling. For some reason, my chest felt weirdly heavy. Allie noticed immediately, one eyebrow arching.

“But you...”

I looked at her, startled, just as she crossed her arms.

“What horrible things did you say to him? Or was he the only one competing for Worst Person Alive?”

I winced. Because, damn it. She had a point. Hannah caught my reaction instantly.

“Yeah, he was an asshole, but he was trying to take care of you. So what exactly did you say to him?” Hannah continued. “Oh my God.” She pointed at me like she’d just cracked a murder case. “You said something awful.”

“You both know I cry when I get angry, so at that point all the oxygen in my brain was completely inaccessible.”

“You cry when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're angry, sweetheart. You definitely said something horrible, didn't you?” Allie said, already grinning.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“What did you say?” Hannah asked without missing a beat.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What. Did. You. Say.”

I groaned and yanked the blanket up to my nose.

“Stop torturing me. John Logan and I don’t work together. That’s a fact.”

I muttered the words before sitting up and taking a large bite of my cinnamon roll.

“I need to get back on the ice. I have to make up for the practice I missed this morning.” I was already chewing as I stood and started searching for one of my training outfits buried somewhere in the disaster zone that was my room.

At this point, keeping busy was basically a defense mechanism. If I looked productive enough, maybe nobody would notice I was emotionally imploding.

“Okay,” Allie muttered. The tone made me suspicious, but I ignored it. A minute later, I was changing clothes and braiding my hair in front of the mirror.

“Now that you've apparently risen from the dead...” Hannah said casually from the bed. I let out a huff, because we all knew I hadn't exactly completed my miraculous resurrection yet. I narrowed my eyes at her reflection. Dangerous opening. “Summer break starts next week.” Yep. Definitely a trap.

“Dean mentioned his parents are traveling somewhere way too far for him to join because of upcoming games,” she continued. “So he suggested we spend the weekend at their beach house in Delaware. They’re not renting it out or anything.” I slowly turned around.

“Delaware? No fucking way.” Allie immediately threw her head back with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, come on. It'll be fun.”

“Sure.” I snorted. “Fun for you two, maybe. You'll spend the entire weekend having sex. Also, since when are you and Dean official?”

“This isn't about me,” Allie replied way too fast.

I narrowed my eyes. Suspicious.

“And I’m supposed to spend a weekend trapped in a house full of hockey players and John Logan.”

“I actually think it could be good for you,” Hannah said more gently. “But if you don’t want to go, that's fine. Really. It's just... other people are coming too. We'll share a room. Do girl stuff. No pressure.”

Allie immediately nodded and practically launched herself across the bed.

“Please. It'll be so fun.” She stuck out her lower lip dramatically. “I won't be able to enjoy myself knowing you stayed here alone while Will roams freely around campus.”

“You two talk about Will like he's a sociopath.”

“Because he is.”

“He's not a serial killer, Allie.”

“No.” She shrugged. “He just destroys people’s self-esteem as a hobby, which honestly might be worse.” My jaw tightened.

Because, unfortunately...She wasn't wrong. Will's cruelty wasn't loud. That was what made it worse.

It came disguised as jokes. Casual comments. Looks. Tiny little digs that were easy to dismiss individually but impossible to ignore altogether. And after the conversation with my mother, I had absolutely no energy left for someone else making me feel inadequate. Hannah noticed my silence right away.

“That’s exactly why you should go,” she said softly. “You’re really going to spend the whole summer here listening to that asshole?”

I let out a quiet huff while finishing my second braid.

“I’ll survive.”

“Allie literally found you crying in the bathroom after that Sigma Chi party,” Hannah reminded me.

I immediately squeezed my eyes shut.

“Jesus Christ, Hannah.”

“What?” She shrugged. “It’s true. He acts like competing with you is an Olympic event.”

“Because he's obsessed and weird,” Allie added. “And I’m definitely not relaxing in Delaware knowing you stayed here getting emotionally attacked by a golden retriever with an ego problem.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

Weak, reluctant, but real.

“You two dramatize everything.”

“You normalize horrible things,” Hannah shot back instantly.

That made me go quiet.

Because... damn it.

She was right too.

I finished tying my sneakers slowly while feeling both of them watching me.

“It’s not just about Will,” Hannah said more quietly now. “I think you need to breathe for a little while. Like... exist without training, without pressure, without your mother, without pretending you’re okay.”

I swallowed hard immediately. Because she’d hit too close to the truth. I looked down at my bag on the floor, trying to organize my thoughts. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed it.

“I hate when you two make sense.”

Allie smiled instantly.

“So that was a maybe?”

“That was a ‘let me survive practice first.’”

“I’m counting that as progress,” Hannah answered, satisfied.

I shook my head while walking toward the door. But before I left, Allie spoke more softly:

“You deserve to be in places where people don’t make you feel small all the time, sweetheart.”

My hand tightened around the doorknob instantly. Because after my mother... after Will... after years of trying to earn space...I honestly didn’t even know what that felt like anymore. That same afternoon, in the suffocating silence of my room, I did the worst possible thing for someone emotionally unstable:

I picked up my phone. My thumb hovered over Logan’s contact for far too long. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his voice, feel his presence, see that stupid smile that somehow managed to annoy me and calm me down at the same time. And I hated myself for wanting any of that.

Because I shouldn't.

John Logan wasn't mine.

I wouldn't be good for him. He's too complicated, and so am I. We'd only make things worse. He had never been mine. And he never would be. The messages. The teasing. The ridiculous voice notes. The replies that always came too fast. The way his name had quietly become part of my routine before I even realized it. And somehow, that made everything worse. My chest tightened painfully. Because maybe my mother had been right about one thing. I ruined everything I touched. I swallowed hard and started typing before I could talk myself out of it.

Me:

Ty for taking care of me when u didn't have to. And... sry for what I said.

This fake dating thing really messed w my head.

I stared at the screen for several seconds after sending it. My heart was beating so hard it was genuinely irritating. Then, before I could overthink it. Before I could delete the message. Before I could wait for a reply. I deleted his contact. Because honestly? That felt easier than facing whatever came next.

English isn't my first language, so pls go easy on me.

I feel like this chapter wasn't much, but I really love the depth of the friendship that's been building between them.

I honestly thought I'd be able to post 2 more chapters for u guys today, but it's so late here 😭

I'll post 2 more tomorrow for sure, babes.

xoxo 💕

You’re on him as soon as you cross the threshold of the bedroom, pushing him back until his legs hit the bedframe as you kiss him. Logan sits on the edge of the bed, staring up at you, your hands moving to your shoulders to pull down the straps of your dress when he speaks up, “No, don’t.” He shakes his head, “Keep the dress. Just come here.”

He reaches out, hands on the curve of your hips as he pulls you closer, your legs on each side of his thighs, straddling him. His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking on it as your eyes flutter closed, hands travelling to your back and pulling you down onto his lap. 

“You drive me insane, you know that, right?” Logan’s kisses grow more frantic, groaning against your skin as his head moves down to your cleavage, “You and your little antics, that fucking scene at the bathroom— What were you thinking, hm?”

“I– I wasn’t, really.” You shake your head, letting out a breathy chuckle turned into a whimper at the feeling of his mouth on you, “I was only thinking of you.”

You thought Logan would have his fun with you tonight as some sort of payback for your little show at the gala bathroom, maybe turning you on so much that you’d have to beg for some relief. Instead, he only seems to care about having you, rushing to take you up on your promise. Logan lifts his head, chin resting on your sternum as his hands move up and up on your back, touch softly brushing your skin over the dress til he finds the zipper.

“That okay?” he asks in a whisper.

You feel his fingers pulling it, nodding as he drags the thing halfway down, just enough for your dress straps to fall off your shoulders. He allows himself to fully pull the bodice of your dress down, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your skin, tongue moving over your breast. Your hands find his hair, tugging him closer to your torso. Logan moves below you, pushing you off of him and guiding you to lay on the edge of his bed instead as his knees hit the floor with a loud thud none of you seem to care about. 

His hands move up and down your thighs in a teasing manner, “Look at you,” he says. Logan lifts up the hem of your dress, kissing the inside of your thighs, “You’re gonna make my dreams come true, yeah?”

You forget, in your need of him, that Logan usually finds his own pleasure by making sure you’re having yours. In that tiny bathroom, you didn’t think his dream-come-true meant having his mouth on you until you were breaking apart, kissing and lapping on you until your legs around his head were muffling the sound of your moans. 

He looks up at you, your head thrown to the side, eyes finding him through your weariness.

“Come up here,” you say, voice small. Logan obliges, because how could he not? Your hands go to his face as he gets closer, muttering against his lips, “Will you please fuck me now?”

“Jesus,” he answers in a pained voice, head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t say that. You don’t have to beg for it.”

“I’ve been begging for it,” you whisper, “Since that fucking reception– Logan, please.”

He doesn’t let you say another word, ditching his clothes in a hurry before taking your lips on his again. Logan kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you until you’re dizzy as he moves between your legs, one hand holding your face as the other sneaks down to lift up your thigh. Your mouth parts from him as you moan, open mouthed kisses adorning your neck like a necklace as he slowly opens you up, watching your every move. 

Your legs grip him, your heels landing on the small of his back, pressing him deeper as he groans, hips now snapping against you. You drag your fingernails over his back, heat coiling in your underbelly, “I can feel you tightening up, baby. You feel so good–” Logan pants, his own fingers trailing down to help. You whimper, “So, so good. Are you gonna come for me?”

You hum, and he kisses you right under your ear, whispering, “You can come. Come with me, yeah? Please, come with me.”

And so it goes, both you and Logan unraveling through deep kisses and soft sighs. He kisses your face over and over and you come down, murmuring, “You did so good, so good.”

He presses his lips to your shoulder as he lays by your side. You can't help but grin as you immediately miss his weight on you, turning back to face him with a quick peck on his lips,

“You looked handsome tonight.”

He chuckles, “As opposed to all the other nights?”

“What can I say? You clean up well.” You answer, fingertips cleaning the remains of lipstick off of his face, “You know what I mean.”

He hums, and you continue, “And you had all eyes on you, too. You must be so proud of yourself. You should be.”

“I guess I am.” He shrugs, “Felt really, really good. Doing something to be proud of.”

“You do plenty of things to be proud of, Logan.”

“Not like that.” He says solemnly, “Not like tonight.”

You smile at him, “Yeah. It was something.”

“And you–” he grins at you, “You were something too. ” You playfully roll your eyes, turning your back to him. Logan chuckles before sneaking his arm over your body and pulling you closer, his stubble tickling your skin as he presses another kiss on you, mumbling against your shoulder, “My good luck charm.”

notes: i believe this is my first time writing actual smut so please be nice to me. requests are open, likes reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! <3

John Logan is a beautiful man, you’ve always known that. But ever since you’ve met there have been very few opportunities where you got to see him in anything other than casual or gym clothes (or, you know, no clothes at all), let alone wearing a suit. When he shows up to your door that evening, his shirt half unbuttoned, suit jacket over the shoulder and asking for help with his tie, you feel like a woman possessed. You try bringing his face down to yours, planning on kissing him stupid as for as long as humanly possible.

Logan, however, gives you nothing but a quick peck before urging you to get dressed.

“We can’t be late for the reception, you know?” he says, an apologetic smile on his pretty face and hands on your shoulders gently pushing you back, “So let's get moving, yeah? Want me to zip up your dress?”

Quick pecks and long introductions is all you've been getting throughout the night. Logan talks to sponsors, introduces you to the Council, goes up the stage and preaches about the fundraising, talks about how the Hurricanes youth program changed his life and he wants to pass it on for future generations of hockey players, and so it goes. And it’s hot, plain and simple, seeing him move so professionaly and inviting, shaking hands with sponsors, every so often throwing you a smile or, god forbid, a wink.

You’re seated for dinner when you decide you’ve had enough. 

Logan sits right next to you, chatting with Coach Jensen and his wife from across the table, hand holding yours. You stare your joined hands for a moment before drop his , pretending to check for something in your purse in hopes no one will notice your sneaky moves, allowing your hand to rest over Logan’s knee, hiding a giggle when you feel him immediately stiffen. You don't test your waters for a little something more — you're not trying to get risky, nor you’re to embarrass him. You’re just sending him signs as you squeeze his thigh three times, “I need you.”

Logan clears his throat before speaking up again, “I, um, need to use the restroom,” he says, voice higher than usual as he tries to focus again, pushing himself out of the table rapidly.

You and wait two full minutes before excusing yourself and going after him, quiet like a mouse as you stand on the corridor. Logan opens the door and you block his way out, immediately pushing him back inside, the small of his back hitting the countertop, “Wow, hey.”

“Hi, handsome.” 

Your hands go up to the back of his neck, fingertips curling through his hair just the way you know he likes. Logan sighs, eyes fluttering closed, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You say, pulling him in for a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then another one on his lips. 

There’s only so far Logan can go resisting when you’re actively trying to seduce him. His lips part, allowing you to deepen the kiss, hands moving to his face and dragging him closer like you’re trying to swallow him, encouraged by his quiet moans against your open mouth. He loves when you get like this — desperate, needy, tempting. It takes everything in him to stop you.

He is, after all, still a man of senses, and having you kissing his jaw and dragging your teeth down his neck is enough to make him well aware of where this is quickly going. Logan slips out from where he stands, pinned between you and the sink, and moves to the door, locking you both in. 

Logan turns to you, “You gotta stop this.” he says, his entire face blushing.

You smile meekly at him, “I’m sorry,” you say, moving towards him, “You just look really, really good right now.”

“Baby, I’m serious. The entire Council is outside. Coach Jensen would tear me a new one if he ever–” He turns away from you, leaning on the counter. Your lips curve in a tight-lipped smile, thinking he sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than anything. Logan quickly runs his hands over his face and through his hair, “I have to give a final speech.”

You feel deliciously bad, seeing him so frustrated for denying you and himself of this.

You sneak in between his legs, his bright, sulken eyes on you. “Don’t look so distressed,” you say, fingers pushing his hair back, this time in a much softer manner, “You’re right, we can't do that. I’m sorry for messing with you.”

Logan shakes his head, “You always mess with me. Look at you,” he stares you up and down, hands going to your sides, “You look like a dream tonight.”

“Well, let me tell you how it goes, then.” you get closer to him, mouth so close to his ear as you whisper, “You go up that stage, you make a goddamn perfect final speech, and I’ll make all your dreams come true tonight, okay?”

Logan lets out a low noise, something in between a pained whimper and chuckle, resting his forehead on your shoulder, “Yeah, okay.” He looks up at you again, “Kiss for good luck?”

You curve your lips into a smirk, “I’ll do you one better.” 

Pulling back from him, you lift up your dress below your knees, just enough for your hands to travel up from your calves up to your hips without revealing him anything. You watch his eyes fixated on your legs as you pull down your black laced panties. Logan’s unmoved as you unbuttons his jacket suit, carefully dropping it into his inside pocket.

“A good luck charm for you to keep,” You press an innocent kiss to his face, “Wait a few minutes before leaving, okay? Or they’ll think we’re being perverts and doing it on the bathroom counter.”

You move towards the door, turning the lock, “I’ll tell Coach Jensen you got caught in conversation with a potential sponsor. Man’s gonna think you’re a saint, baby.”

Logan thinks he might just be one, for it takes a fucking miracle for him not to follow you like a leashed dog as you walk out the door.

part 2

notes: thank you for reading! requests are open, likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3

He also kept a heavy hand on the small of your back any moment his hand was free. You put on a good act, pretending it didn’t get to you every time his fingers drew small shapes over your top, or whenever his digits slipped beneath the fabric when the boys were too busy laughing, leaving you with a hitched breath and a warm feeling between your legs.

When the other half to your dynamic duo, Kendall, stepped between the two of you and grabbed your hand, spluttering something about dancing to her favorite song, Logan’s grip tightened on you for a moment before he loosened up and plastered a pursed smile on his face.

“As long as you bring her back to me,” he said. Kendall laughed at his joke as she dragged you away. But one look between you and Logan and you knew he wasn’t trying to be funny.

“He’s so down bad for you, it’s hilarious,” Kendall giggled to you with a roll of her eyes. “He needs to lighten up.”

The pair of you danced to an ABBA song, laughing and belting out the lyrics. You closed your eyes and let loose, submitting to the tingle of whatever alcohol remained in your system.

John watched like a hawk. The irony wasn’t lost on him considering his bird costume. You looked so good. He wanted to hold you from behind and make you feel how heavy his—

“Any more staring and she’ll burst into flames.”

Logan snapped out of it and turned to Garrett, who wore a knowing smirk and offered him another can of Sprite.

“Thanks, man,” Logan said gratefully, taking the refill.

Garrett looked at your dancing figure. “Freshmen on the team were asking about her.”

“Yeah? What’d they say?” Logan replied almost absentmindedly, sipping his drink and staring at you.

Garrett sighed. “Rather not say. I’m supposed to be Hannah’s ‘boyfriend’ and all.”

Logan peered at him from the corner of his eyes, feeling his protective instincts start to wake. Garrett noticed and gently bumped their shoulders together.

“Not like that. Wasn’t bad. Just…” Garrett hummed into his red solo cup. “Horny.” He settled on that word.

That was enough.

Logan chugged down whatever was left in the can of soda before making his way over to you. He crossed the room in quick strides, ignoring Kendall’s amused voice when she cooed, “Uh oh, return to sender already?”

Logan took your hand and pulled you away; away from the dance floor, away from the party, and most importantly—away from the lingering gazes so many guys sent your way.

“Logan?” You queried as he brought you up the stairs.

He didn’t respond, just kept tugging you along.

“Logan.”

Nothing.

“Baby—”

He finally stopped and turned to look at you. His stature towered over you and you suddenly felt small with the way he was staring down at your face.

He exhaled a heavy breath. “Fuck, baby, I’m trying really hard to be respectful.”

You cupped his cheek. His skin was hot to the touch. He subconsciously burrowed closer into the palm of your hand.

“You don’t have to be,” you murmured.

He closed his eyes for a moment. “How many drinks have you had?”

“A can and a half of beer,” you answered.

He opened his eyes to make sure you were being honest. You stood unwavering.

“You’re sober?” He asked.

“Mhm.”

“You’re sure?”

“100%. Are you?”

He sighed, turning away. “Yeah. Yeah, I made sure not to…” his words trailed off.

You smiled. “You made sure not to drink too much so we could fuck?”

He looked at you again. “Don’t say it like that.”

You giggled, pushing away a strand of fallen hair from his forehead. “I’m saying it as it is.”

“I made sure not to drink too much to be responsible,” he corrected.

You nodded along, “Oh, yeah. Responsible. My responsible and respectful boyfriend.” You teased. He did not appreciate that.

“Okay,” he let out an amused sound as if he were faced with a challenge. He leaned in and whispered, “Let’s see who’s laughing when I stop respecting you and start doing all the things I plan to do to you.”

You gulped.

+

He led you to the nearest vacant bedroom in the Maxwell family home before pushing you inside and locking the door behind him. You thought he’d pin you against the door and makeout with you.

Instead, he said, “Sit on the bed,” in that husky voice you rarely hear so you knew you had to listen.

You sat down. The covers were soft and cool. You watched and waited for his next words, but Logan was too busy pacing in front of the door and running his hands through his hair. He looked so yummy.

“Take your clothes off. Let me see you.”

You blinked. You weren’t used to Logan being like this. He usually did all the work. But this new side of him was hot, so very hot.

You slowly unzipped your boots and kicked them off along with your socks. Next, your headpiece with the sprinkles. Then, your tube top, revealing your bare breasts, and lastly, your skirt, leaving you in nothing but underwear.

You felt exposed, just sitting there on the bed as Logan stared at you without a word. His eyes were nearly black from how blown out his pupils were, his bottom lip chewed and slightly pink from how much he dragged it beneath his teeth.

“Pretty,” he finally commented. “That’s new.”

You glanced down to where he gestured, looking at the lace thong you wore. He was right; it was new. You and Kendall bought matching ones for the costumes, but you didn’t need to tell him that bit right now.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Was it expensive?” He asked.

“Not…really…”

“Good,” he nodded to himself. He pushed off the wings he wore for his costume and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

He knelt down in front of you and spread your legs apart. “So I can ruin it, right?”

That shot up your spine. Your thighs wanted to rub against one another at his remark, but he held your knees firmly. “Answer.”

You nodded without thinking. “Yes.”

He smiled at your obedience and nodded. “Yeah, we’ll get to that. But for now…” his words died down as his lips attached to yours.

It was all tongue and messy. Logan pinned your wrists to the mattress as he kissed you. He grunted against your lips every time you bit his lip teasingly. Eventually, his kisses trailed downwards. To your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. He made sure to give all your sensitive spots an abundance of attention.

Then? His favorite bit. Your tits. John Logan was a tits guy, through and through. Doesn’t matter what size or shape, he was enamored with them.

“Missed my girls,” he murmured before he took one of your breasts into his mouth, swirling his tongue over your pebbled nipple and sucking softly, then switching to the other boob and giving it the same treatment.

Your head tilted back and let out soft sighs. The comfort of him mouthing at your breasts left you aching and squirming on the bed. “Oh, baby…”

He pulled away at your voice and left a sloppy kiss between your tits. He peppered a few more kisses on your abdomen—nipping an especially ticklish spot below your rib—before diving in and licking you over the fabric of your lace thong. You gasped, your hand flying to his hair like second instinct.

He groaned against you, the sound muffled but the vibrations sending sparks to your core. “Already so wet for me. I hardly did anything.”

“Logan, please…”

He kept licking up your slit through your panties. He could feel your juices seep through the delicate material. The friction was doing wonders for your pleasure, but you grew impatient. “Logan…”

He finally pulled your thong to the side and resumed his ministrations with extra fervor. The direct contact had you jumping in your seat, but Logan’s strong arms held your hips down.

He groaned again, pulling away just to mutter, “Fuck, gorgeous, maybe he was right to call you cupcake. You taste so fucking sweet.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before his words fully registered in your head. “James?” You asked, breathlessly.

He pulled away and looked at you with a deadpan expression. He crawled up your body until he was face-to-face with you and said, “Please don’t ever say another man’s name when my tongue is inside you.”

That had your hole clenching around nothing.

“Got that?” He asked.

You nodded right away, “Mhm.”

“Words,” he demanded.

“Yes. Got it.” You responded quietly.

“Good,” he murmured before smoothing your hair down and admiring you for a moment. Then, his head was back between your thighs.

“Ah, Logan!” You breathed out, digging your nails into his scalp.

He raised up two fingers to your lips without stopping. You blinked back bleary eyed at that. “Open,” he said.

Immediately, you parted your lips. He shoved his ring and middle fingers inside your mouth and you sucked on them diligently, running your tongue over his calluses earned from hockey and various handyman jobs. Once they were appropriately wet, he pulled his fingers out and into your pussy.

You keeled over with a loud cry, “John!”

He raised his head up, letting his fingers do all the work now. “You like that? Yeah?”

You bobbed your head up and down, unable to find any words left in you from how nicely Logan scissored his fingers inside you, all whilst keeping his thumb on your clit in steady motions.

“Look at you. So pretty and whiny for me,” he murmured, voice smooth as honey. “Letting me wreck you like this and I haven’t even used my cock yet.”

You whimpered, hand gripping onto his bicep. You were sure you’d see nail marks on his skin even tomorrow morning.

“Oh, you like that?” He asked, tilting his head. “You want me to fuck you stupid with my cock?” The pace of his fingers increased.

Your eyes screwed shut. “Yes! Please, I want that.” You tugged him closer so you could bury your face in his neck, feeling so overwhelmed by pleasure.

He let out an airy chuckle. “Such a good girl. Just for that? I’ll reward you.”

He made you cum on his fingers. The heel of his hand applied pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves until you seized and melted against him with a moan.

“Shhh, that’s it. Come down from it, you’re okay,” he kissed the top of your head.

You mumbled incoherent sentences into his neck and he merely smiled and rubbed your back.

After a minute of breathing, he pulled back slightly to look at your face. “You okay?” He asked, pushing a lock of hair away from your face.

You nodded, still buzzing from what had happened. “Yeah,” you exhaled.

He nodded, watching you carefully in the vulnerable afterglow. Your hands trailed down to his jeans, tugging at his belt, silently asking for it to come off.

Logan chuckled softly before helping you remove his belt and jeans. He reached into the pocket then chucked them on the floor and you instantly started palming his eager boner through his boxers.

He hissed, tossing his head back. “Fuck, baby.”

“Please tell me you have a condom,” you said.

He held the small foil up in his fingers.

At that, you rid him of his boxers and watched in tense awe as he teared the packet open with his teeth and rolled the condom on. You settled back against the bed pillows as you waited in hot anticipation.

“Uh uh,” he wagged his finger before curling it in a come hither gesture.

You sat up, letting out a surprised squeal when he lifted you by your thighs and settled on the bed before placing you above him. Your hands scrambled until they settled on his abs.

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, “Look good for me, gorgeous. I want a show.”

You leaned down and peppered kisses over his face. He let out a relaxed sigh and rubbed up and down your sides lazily. You nibbled on a spot right below his ear, earning you a delicious whimper from him.

“Tease,” he muttered and you grinned.

“Thought you wanted a show,” you remarked.

He hummed, “Mm, yeah. But just for me. No one else.”

You looked down at him, realizing he’s still a bit hung up from the incident earlier that night. Your finger slid sensually from his adam’s apple to his naval. “No one else. Only you.”

“Yeah?” His voice got deeper. “Show me.”

Sir, yes, sir. You held his dick from the base and slowly sank down on him. Logan groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. The stretch of him filling you up was deliriously good. You bit your lip as you took him in, inch by inch.

Finally, you both let out a sigh in unison. You planted your palms flat on his abdomen and started rocking back and forth.

The room succumbed to the sounds of soft moans and the subtle creak from the bed. The party downstairs was long forgotten. Here, it was just you and Logan.

“Just like that, baby, hah,” he breathed out, moving you back and forth. Even if he put you on top, Logan would always end up doing the work for you. You were his pampered princess.

You threw your head back, feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy once again. You took one of Logan’s hands and guided him through rubbing circles on your clit.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” He asked.

You nodded fervently. “Yes. Fuck, yes, Logan. Keep doing that, baby, I’m so close.”

He held you firmly and started bucking up into you. You cried out, slumping against his chest as he thrusted in and out of you, reaching so deep inside, hitting that spongy part that left you seeing stars.

“Cum for me, baby. I know you can do it,” he said.

The coil snapped and you released, letting out a long moan. Your body shook, the pleasure and adrenaline rushing through you like a live wire meeting water. You collapsed against him, your bones feeling like putty.

He took your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to meet his face. He was still rocking into you. “Need to see you, baby. Need to see your pretty face when I cum.”

You were so out of it, barely processing his words. You simply nodded and chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so hot all sweaty and breathing heavily.

His eyes squeezed shut when he came, letting out a guttural groan. You felt his hips falter as he bucked up into you, rhythm sloppy and erratic. He let out a shuddering breath and dropped his head back onto the pillow.

The room was quiet now. The hum of electrical circuits and the distant noise of the party below filling up the space. You traced shapes onto his ribs, your touch barely skimming his skin. His hands caressed your back slowly, giving a small squeeze every now and then.

“Not jealous anymore?” You murmured, looking at him with an amused smirk.

He scoffed. “I wasn’t jealous.”

You hummed, “Ohhh, okay. Not jealous. Just possessive.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, a smile threatening to tear his lips wide. “Just…want you to be mine. All the time.”

You smiled, “I am.”

“I know you are.”