My breathing stopped, which was painful because I was still coming down from my high. It was building up in me, clogging in my throat. I felt paralyzed.
Logan focused on me and strengthened his grip. “Hang on to me, Rayne,” his voice so low and demanding against my ear.
As soon as my arms tightened around his neck, he flipped us, taking a few short steps behind a blue tiled wall. There, in an alcove that couldn’t have been more than three feet wide, we stood, me wrapped up in him. I buried my face in his neck, mostly so he couldn’t see the fear in me. But I knew he felt my heart racing out of control.
He didn’t pull me back, instead he let me stay buried in him and turned his head to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone find you here.”
Having my top off was the least of my worries. My gut twisted in unthinkable ways. I was going to be sick if the mumbling from around that tiled divider didn’t go away soon.
If it weren’t for Logan’s arms around me, I would have shook out of control with panic.
The chatter on the other side of the wall continued and we waited it out.
It would have felt like forever if Logan’s fingers weren’t stroking me. He met my eyes and leveled his breathing, staring at my lips. Urging me to match the rhythm.
When I did, he smiled, as though proud that I caught on.
The noises finally dissipated, but Logan held my gaze. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “I—I can’t explain that—”
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” he said reassuringly. “I get it. You’re a professional here.”
“Thank you.” I was thanking him for a lot more than he might have realized.
He held out my shirt. “Thankyou, Doc.” He watched me put my shirt back on. “You can tell Stroyken I’m still not interested. But we’re even now.”
I shook my head, feeling used yet again. I hated the hockey world. “Logan,” I whispered. “You know—I had nothing to do…”
“I know.” He smiled. “In fact right now, you’re the only reason I’m glad I showed up.” He winked. “I’ll see you around.”
My heart sank. After that epic nervous breakdown behind the wall, I was sure he never wanted to see me again.
16
I satup in bed that night, bringing myself to tears. They were soft at first, falling slowly one at a time and then gradually, I became a hot mess.
That was saying a lot since I’d felt like one for the past five years of my life.
I made my way into the kitchen. I wasn’t a warm milk kind of person, but I was desperate for sleep. Earlier events were nothing any woman should cry about unless they were tears of fucking joy because despite where we were, it was the best feeling I’d ever had. And I only wanted more.
Hell, Ineededmore.
But there was a fat chance of that happening after my physical and emotional crippling just because a few guys from the team walked in. I knew I looked like I had the fear of God in me, and there was no way I could have explained it to Logan.
I was a train wreck and he didn’t need that. The baggage I come with. Much less who that baggage is connected to. I shuddered.
See you around.
“It’s just as well.” I turned off the kettle, settling for tea instead of milk and poured the steamy liquid into my glass mug.
I couldn’t tell how long I’d sat in the dark on the sofa, when the lights came on. I blinked, finding Sam standing at the front end of the hall.
Eyes squinting in the light, she moved toward me. “You alright?”
I nodded and turned back to the window. Sipping a full cup of cold tea.
“You’re not alright,” she breathed. “Listen if this is about what I said earlier, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have judged. I know you’re just looking out for Jax.”
