Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

Annie

Logan has to go home to Teemu. Neither of us wants to part but we suck it up and make a plan to go out tomorrow since the team has a day off. I'm hesitant but he convinces me it's a big city and no one we know will see us going for a walk in Central Park or having dinner somewhere.

In the morning I get a text from Mom asking about getting together. I sit and look at my phone for a long time before I text her back.

ANNIE: Sorry Mom I'm going out this afternoon and maybe for dinner

MOM: With your new man?

ANNIE: Yes

MOM: We could all meet up for afternoon tea!

ANNIE: Mom

MOM: Fine. I want to go to the Metropolitan Museum. I can do that by myself.

ANNIE: Okay. We can have dinner tomorrow night. Do you want to go to the game?

MOM: I'd love to!

This time I'll make sure we don't run into Logan.

Logan picks me up in the afternoon. When I tell him where Mom's going, he drives up Central Park West on the opposite side of the park from the museum. We find a parking garage and then explore the park on foot for a while.

"What do you usually do on a day off?" I ask him as we stroll up to the Stone Arch.

"Sleep."

I laugh. "Besides that."

"Hang out with the guys. Go to a movie. Play video games or ping pong."

"Ping pong?"

"Yeah. There's a game room in the building and we have tournaments."

"Huh. Who knew."

"I'll take you on sometime."

"Oh, no. I can't play ping pong."

"Some days…" He hesitates.

"What?"

"I work with a school in the Bronx. I've donated hockey equipment and money, and sometimes I go get on the ice with the kids."

My heart. I press a hand to the swelling sensation behind my breastbone. "That's awesome."

"I like doing it." He clears his throat. "What do you do on a day off?" Our gloved hands are twined together as we walk.

"Well, I'm still new here. I've been working a lot on my days off. And I don't know many people here. So I haven't done much."

"What would you like to do now you're here in the Big Apple?"

"Well, I'd like to go the museum my mom's at today. Don't laugh, but I kind of like museums and art galleries."

"I'm not laughing. There are lots here to see. I haven't been to many. But one I've been to is the Spy Museum."

"I didn't know there was a Spy Museum."

"Yeah, and it's really cool."

"I've done some of the typical stuff—the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty. I've been to a few Broadway plays, but I'd love to see more. There's a new one I hear good things about—The Raven."

"Oh yeah, we should totally do that. I'll check into tickets for a night we don't have a game." His fingers tighten briefly on mine.

We're really doing this. Like…dating.

I pull in a long slow breath and let it out.

"Now Christmas is coming, it'll be fun to see all the holiday decorations," I say.

He nods. "Honestly, I haven't paid much attention to that since I've been here."

"We could go skating." I bump his upper arm with my shoulder.

"Ha. That's what you want to do on a day off?" He grins down at me.

"Maybe."

"Would you show me a camel toe spin?"

After a beat, I burst into laughter. "Oh my God! That's not what it's called! Not a camel toe ."

"I don't know! I thought that's what it is."

"It's just a camel spin."

"Can you do it?"

"Of course I can."

"I want you to put on those sissy white figure skates with the toe picks and show me your moves."

"Sissy!"

I catch his eye. He's yanking my chain. And we both smile.

I'm bundled up, but it's cold today and the sky has clouded over. A few icy flakes pelt us from the sky. "My hands are freezing," I complain.

"Aw. Want to warm them up on me?"

"Yes." I take my gloves off and reach for his belt buckle.

"No!" He grabs my hands. We both start laughing.

"I bet it's nice and warm down your pants."

"Oh, it is. But your cold hands aren't getting anywhere near my beefy baloney."

I almost fall down, I'm laughing so hard. I hang onto him. "Beefy baloney! Oh my God!"

"My man-sized manicotti?"

I'm dying.

"Zipper sausage?"

I wipe a tear. "How about love stick? Magic wand?"

"Those are good." He nods. "But I like something that gives a better indication of size. Like Moby Dick."

"Aaaah." I wipe more tears. "Stop!"

"Okay. Let's go warm up in the natural history museum. Since you like museums."

I try to get control of myself. "Is it far?"

"No, right near where we parked."

"Okay." Then I start giggling again.

"I think we have to book ahead." He pulls out his phone. After a moment of swiping and tapping he says, "Okay, we're good."

When we arrive we discover there's an exhibit about elephants.

"Cool," Logan says. "Elephants are kickass."

"I don't know much about elephants."

"Prepare to be amazed."

We wander from exhibit to exhibit, exchanging amused glances about the kids there.

"They are amazing," I say, after learning that an elephant's trunk is strong enough to pull down a tree and yet he can pick up a blade of grass with it. Also they eat five hundred pounds of food a day. "I'm jealous of that." I pat my belly.

Logan scoffs. "I can almost eat that much."

"Sure, Loco."

We also learn how they hear with their feet.

"Excuse me."

We both look down at a little boy wearing a Bears hat.

"Can I have your autograph?" he asks in a near whisper.

Logan smiles. "Sure."

The boy hands him a pen and paper. I notice a couple standing a few feet away, watching, I presume the boy's parents. Ack. Here we are out in public and someone recognized Logan. I take a few steps back, attempting to fade away. Sure enough, the boy's mom pulls out her phone.

"It's Logan Coates," I hear someone else say.

Now he's attracted attention.

"Thank you!" the boy says, beaming. "You're my favorite player!"

"Yeah?" Logan lays his hand on his chest. "I'm honored."

The kid's dad steps closer. "You played great the last couple of games."

"Thanks." Logan nods. "I appreciate that."

"I hope Shipton keeps that line together. You guys have some real chemistry."

Now someone else approaches for an autograph.

Logan looks around for me. I'm across the room learning that elephants are afraid of bees. Keeping my hand at my side, I lift my fingers in subtle acknowledgement. His expression changes, hardening, his eyebrows sloping down. But he quickly smiles at a fan.

A few more admirers crowd around and Logan signs things and makes easy small talk until they disperse. He strides up to me and closes his hand around my upper arm. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"It's okay! I like seeing you with your fans."

He closes his eyes briefly, his jaw tense. Then in a low voice, he says, "Let's get out of here."

"Okay."

He starts toward an exit and I have to jog to keep up with him. Yikes.

"Want to get something to eat?" he growls.

"Yeah. I can't eat five hundred pounds but I could eat a hamburger the size of my head."

He slows and smiles at me and it's so affectionate and his eyes are so warm, I lose my breath. After a momentary freak out, I smile back.

"I know a place not far from here with good burgers," he says.

He leads me across Columbus Avenue toward Broadway and takes me to Prime Bites. It's a busy casual place and we find a table and take seats.

"I should have a salad," Logan mutters as he looks at the menu. "Sixteen hundred calories in this burger."

"Holy crap." I, too, peruse the menu. "But you want a burger."

"I do. I want this Prime Burger. Two organic grass-fed patties."

"It's healthy!"

"Right. Don't be yelling at me tomorrow if I'm dragging my ass on the ice."

"Are you going to get fries?"

He grins. "So you can steal some?"

"Yes. Hmm. Oooh, they have a bison burger—that's what I want."

We order our sandwiches and both order lemonade.

"I'm sorry about that," he says again. He rubs his face. "I didn't think we'd run into anyone who knew me."

"Everyone knows you."

He snorts. "Yeah, no. But enough do, I guess." He looks unhappily down at the table.

"It's okay," I reassure him again. He seems upset by this.

He looks up at me, his mouth twisted. "I don't want you to have to hide."

Aaaah. I lift my chin, then lower it in a slow nod. "Yeah."

Our eyes meet.

The server brings our drinks.

"Will you go home for Christmas?" I ask him when the server's gone.

"Yeah, I think so. We only have a few days off, so it's a quick trip. What about you?"

I nod. "I hope so. We all try to get home for Christmas, but now Jakob and Kingston and Jensen and Leif all have girlfriends, they might not be able to. Do you like Christmas?"

"Eh. It's okay."

"Just okay?"

"We don't have a big family. I'm an only child, remember?" He shrugs. "Christmas was never that exciting."

"And I was the opposite. Five brothers. Christmas was insane. Dad travelled a lot and the boys did too, playing hockey, so it was special when everyone could be together."

"I get that. It makes me a little envious."

"I actually used to fantasize about being an only child. Getting all my parents' attention."

"That's great, if your parents want to pay attention to you."

I tilt my head curiously. "Your parents didn't pay attention to you?"

"Oh yeah, they did, when they wanted me to be a hockey star. I was one of the best players on my teams as a kid and they loved that. Especially my dad."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"But if I screwed up or didn't play like he wanted me to, I got the silent treatment."

I blink, my lips parting. "Really?"

"Yeah." He shrugs as if making light of it, but I can see it's painful. "I always felt I had to earn their attention. Their love. I felt guilty that I didn't do what they wanted." He grins. "It's why I have such a huge fear of failure."

"Well, I ended up with a huge fear of failure even though my parents weren't like that."

"It's hard when all five of your brothers are so talented."

"Right? Man, it killed me when Mom and Dad couldn't come to one of my competitions because one brother had to be in one place and another had to be somewhere else and Kingston was driving a third brother to another tournament." I look down at my lemonade.

"Aw. That sucks."

"It really did." I look at him. "And then, I looked for attention in the wrong ways. By acting out." I roll my eyes at my teenage self.

"I think we're both our own worst critics."

I nod slowly. "Yeah. I think you're right."

Our food arrives and we dig in. My bison burger is delicious, but messy, dripping bacon jam and blue cheese onto my plate. "I have sauce all over my face, don't I?" I ask Logan.

"Just a little." He reaches over and uses a fingertip to swipe at the corner of my mouth.

I reach for a fry from his plate, then hesitate. Our eyes meet. And hold. His expression is almost…puzzled.

Then he slowly smiles and lifts his chin for me to go ahead.

I pop the fry into my mouth. "Yum. How's your burger?"

"Excellent."

After a moment of eating, I ask, "What's your favorite season?"

"Hockey season."

"That's not a season!"

"Sure it is." He grins.

"Okay, so winter."

"Well, fall is when training camp is, and that's exciting, too. And spring is playoffs, although it's a bummer when you're out."

"You don't like the off season at all?" I eye him curiously.

"It's okay. I go home to California. I have a condo in Venice Beach. Right on the ocean."

"Oh, wow. That must be so nice."

"I love it there. Sometimes it feels disconnected, though. All my buddies disperse all over the place for the summer. But they come visit." He flashes a smile. "Everyone loves the beach."

"I'll bet."

"Okay, your turn."

"My favorite season? Um…you know, I've spent so much of my life in arenas, I've never really thought of it. I think it's summer, though. Winters are cold in Minnesota, but summers are wonderful. But summers were still work for me. Training, and developing new routines, getting ready for competitions starting in the fall."

"It was a lot of work."

"Yeah. But I loved it." I smile wistfully.

"It must have been hard giving it up."

"Hardest decision I've ever made."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I've adjusted. And you know what? I've found something else I'm passionate about. Something I love. So…it's all okay. And you know what they say."

"What?"

"What doesn't kill you makes you stranger."

He looks at me. "Stranger?"

"Ooops, that's supposed to be stronger." I laugh. "Okay, both."

His slow smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and his eyes crinkle up. "Stranger is probably accurate. What doesn't kill you can actually fuck you up. I think it depends on the person."

I cock my head, considering that. "Yes. You're probably right. But I think we've both been through adversity. And I think we're both pretty strong."

We share a moment of understanding. And heat. And…some kind of feels.

Lots of feels.