My cheeks flush hot as I hang my Blades jersey back on the rack. I should have hidden it but how was I supposed to know Logan Drake would be in my room?
God, I wanted to kiss him so badly. It took every bit of restraint I had not to. Even though I wanted to.
I shake the thoughts away as I stuff my clutch into my purse and leave my room, rounding the corner to see Logan waiting at the building’s entrance. He smiles when he sees me.
“You look beautiful,” he says. He puts his hands up. “I know, I know, rule number two.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re in public.”
He smiles. “Ready?”
I nod. He takes my hand in his, interlacing our fingers. A thrill rushes through my body. For a moment I feel like it’s too much, like I can’t do this.
“So, where are we going?” He asks as we start walking through the campus courtyard.
“The campus bar, Tony’s.”
“You go there a lot?”
I shake my head. “Not really. My roommate does.”
“When’s the last time you had a boyfriend?” He asks.
“Whoa! You can’t just ask that.”
“Why not? I thought we were supposed to get to know each other.” He looks at me innocently.
“Yeah, but you don’t start with such intense questions!”
“What kind of questions do we start with then?”
“Let’s see.” I thought up a bunch of questions yesterday but now they’ve all slipped from my mind. It’s hard to think when Logan Drake is staring at me with that sexy, smoldering stare. “Okay, do you have a nickname?”
He shakes his head. “It’s just Logan. Or Drake when I’m on the ice. But my mom calls me Logi-bear.”
“Aww.” I stifle a laugh. “Cute.”
As we walk, I notice students staring at Logan. Some of them are pulling their phones out to take photos.
“This must happen a lot,” I say.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
We make our way into the student bar. There are about six other people at the cramped bar already but we manage to find an empty booth where we sit opposite each other. Rihanna is playing on the jukebox. All eyes seem to be on him while his are on me.
“You look great.” His gaze holds me in place.
“You said that already.”
“Because it’s true.”
I study the menu, trying to hide my smile. I still can’t believe Logan Drake is my fake boyfriend.
“You’re shaking,” he says.
“No, I’m not.” I put the menu down.
“Do you want a beer?” Logan signals for the waitress who has been standing by the bar, watching him like a hawk since we arrived. She scurries to our table a bit too eagerly.
“Hi Mr. Drake,” she says with an overaffected voice. She completely ignores me as she squeezes her arms together, accentuating her cleavage.
Oh geez, seriously? I hope I don’t look or sound that desperate when I talk to him.
“Can I get a pint of your best beer?” He smiles at her.
“Of course.” The way she’s staring at him, she may as well have hearts for eyes.
“And Riley?” He asks, looking at me.
“I’ll have a pint of the same thing.”
The waitress finally looks at me, her smile fading as if she’s finally realizing Logan is not alone.
“Coming right up.”
She stumbles as she backs away, smiling at him the whole time.
“Do you usually have this effect on women?” I ask as I look back at him.
“Only if they’re human.” He smirks. “And not named Riley.”
I laugh. “That wouldn’t be the first time a guy thinks I’m cold.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” He taps the table with his fingers. “So, you like beer?”
“Sometimes.”
“How many do you usually drink on a night off?”
“One pint is usually enough. Actually, I’m a half-pinter.”
“Me too.” He laughs. “We can’t really drink that much when we play every second day.”
“Gotta keep the temple clean?”
“That’s right.” He smirks.
The waitress comes by with our drinks faster than I thought possible. She has a lot more cleavage on display this time around than she did before.
“Can I get you anything else?” She asks.
“That’s all for now,” he says.
“Alright, well let me know!”
“Will do.” He barely looks at her.
She pouts before making her way back to the bar, looking back over her shoulder to see if he’s watching. He’s not.
He’s looking at me.
I suppress a smile.
“Wow,” I say. “You get first-class service.”
“I’m used to it. One of the perks of being famous, I guess.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“You know that waitress has been salivating over you since we walked in.”
“I know. That’s why I’m trying not to make eye contact.”
“Pretty girls with nice boobs aren’t your thing?”
He smirks. “Not when I already have a girlfriend.”
He reaches over the table and takes my hand, lightly moving his thumb over mine. It’s an intimate gesture that, for a fleeting moment, makes me feel like this is real.
The waitress clearly looks miffed. I can’t help but feel a bit flattered. I’ve never been the object of envy before, especially not from a woman who looks like she can get any guy she wants.
This fake girlfriend thing is fun.
“So.” He narrows his dark eyes. “Let’s get to know each other.”
My finger flinches against his. “Okay. Why did you become a hockey player?”
“Because I’m good at it.”
“Oh, come on. There’s got to be something more than that.”
“I’ve always been very skilled on my feet. And with my hands.” His finger presses against mine, sending a jolt to my core. I instinctively pull away, composing myself so that he doesn’t realize how frazzled I am.
“What’s your favorite food?” I ask, changing the subject from how adept his hands are.
“Lasagna,” he says without hesitation. “Gotta get those pre-game carbs in. Yours?”
I think for a minute. “Granola bars.”
He laughs. “Seriously? Granola bars?”
“What’s wrong with a granola bar? It’s got fiber, carbs, protein. It’s calorie-dense so I don’t have to take long breaks for lunch.”
“Even your meals are efficient. You really are a robot, aren’t you?”
I let out a sharp laugh. “A robot? Come on, you don’t drink protein shakes or granola bars or anything?”
“Well, I do. But I have taste-buds and I’m also not a psychopath who doesn’t enjoy food.”
“I like food! I liked the apple strudel, didn’t I?”
“But it’s not your favorite.”
“Well, it’s not practical or efficient. Plus, my breath still smells like cinnamon, so thanks for that.”
He chuckles. “It smells fine to me. Besides, I had a bite of it so we’re both cinnamon-y together.”
I suppress a smile. “Well, maybe once I’m not a student anymore, I’ll change my eating habits. It’s hard not to have home-cooked meals without a kitchen.”
“You ever heard of a thing called a restaurant?”
I laugh. “If I had the money for that, I wouldn’t be here with you.”
He straightens in his seat. “I guess that’s true. At least you don’t have to worry about food anymore with all the money you have now. The thought of you living off dry granola bars depresses me.”
“Yeah,” I say absently. The truth of why we’re here dawns on me. I reclaim my hand from the table and place it in my lap. He stares at me for a moment.
“Favorite ice cream flavor?”
I laugh. “Is this really what it means to get to
know each other?”
“It’s the little things that are important, right?”
“I guess that’s true. Hmm, I’d say my favorite flavor is vanilla.”
He makes a face. “Vanilla? That’s so boring!”
“Are you really going to criticize every single answer of mine?”
He laughs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It’s just…vanilla? Why?”
“It’s classic and delicious. Besides, you can mix it with anything. Chocolate, fruit, sprinkles, butterscotch, mint… the list goes on. You can keep it simple or make it crazy and wild. It’s versatile. What?” I notice he’s staring at me with a lazy smile.
“I’m just thinking about you being crazy and wild.”
“Logan!”
He laughs. “Sorry! You said it and my mind went somewhere.”
Laughing faintly, I look down.
Now my mind is somewhere. My cheeks are getting hot and I know he for sure can see them turning pink
“Excuse me,” I say before pulling out of the booth and heading to the ladies' room. I draw a few envious stares on my way there.
Finally gaining some privacy in the bathroom, I splash some cool water on my cheeks and wrists before staring at myself in the mirror. I look flushed, but happy. There’s a sparkle in my eye.
Straightening out my outfit and fluffing my hair a bit, I make my way back to the table. When I see our booth, I pause. There’s someone sitting in my spot across from Logan.
As I get closer, I realize it’s Keith. He’s fangirling over Logan.
“Hey,” I say, standing by the table.
Keith looks up at me. “Riley! Look who’s having a beer here at our university! Wait... whoa, you look smoking hot. Did someone say bonertown?”
I roll my eyes.
“Show the lady some respect.” Logan clenches his jaw, giving Keith the hardest death glare I’ve ever seen.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Keith, get out of my spot.”
His eyes grow wide. “You’re Logan’s date?”
“I’m her boyfriend,” he says. “And if you don’t show Riley respect, you’re going to have to deal with me.”
I give Keith a smug smile as he stares at me suspiciously.
“Oh…of—of course,” Keith stutters. “Wait—can I borrow some change for the jukebox? I desperately want to listen to some Bieber. I’ve had that one stupid song stuck in my head all day.” He puts his hand on my purse, which is on the seat next to him.
“Fucking seriously, dude?” Logan is now livid.
“I forgot mine back at res. It’s just a few quarters.” He looks back at me. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Fine.” I look at Logan, who’s still seething while staring at Keith. I tap my foot against Logan’s. He looks at me. “It’s fine,” I mouth.
Keith has his back to us as he searches my purse in the corner of the booth.
“Today, please,” I say.
“Okay, okay. It’s just your zipper is stuck—just a few more moments—okay, there.” He turns around, one hand holding coins, while the other is holding his cracked phone. He shuffles out of the booth seat. “It was nice meeting ya. Big fan.”
“Right.” Logan glares.
When Keith’s gone, I slide into the booth.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
“Don’t apologize for him. Why’d you give him money anyway?”
I shrug. “It was just a few quarters. And I see him every day. It’s easier to just be nice to him otherwise everything he says is pure vitriol.”
“You’re too nice for that ass.”
“I know.” I take a sip of my beer.
“Does he act like that toward you a lot?”
“All the freaking time,” I say. “At least ever since we slept together.”
Logan raises his eyebrows in shock. “You slept with him?”
I let out a short laugh. “Mr. Drake, are you jealous?”
“You said no to a date with me, but you had sex with that guy?”
I lean over and touch his clean-shaven cheek. “Oh, my poor baby. Was I your first time ever getting rejected? Is your ego hurt?”
He puts his hand on his chest. “A little bit, yes! Seriously though…him?”
Sitting back in my seat, enjoying this breakdown of Logan Drake’s ego, I smirk as I take another sip of beer.
“Let’s get back to our questions, shall we?” I put the beer down. “What’s your go-to breakfast?”
“We’re onto the food again, are we?”
“You started it! Besides, when I’m not getting laid I focus on food.”
He raises an eyebrow as he leans in. “How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid?”
I raise my chin and look away. “You don’t need to know that.”
“It’s been a while, huh?” He leans back. That devilish smirk on his lips appears on his lips, coaxing me to tell him all my secrets. It’s going to be my undoing.
“What? No.” I pause. “Well, it’s been six months.”
“So, it has been a while.”
“Not really. If it’s always as bad as it is with Keith, it can wait.”
This catches his attention and leans in again. “It wasn’t good?”
“Sex is…overrated,” I say. Wow. I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. I look at my beer—which is almost empty. No wonder.
Logan lowers his voice. “You know, if that’s truly what you believe then I think you’ve been doing it wrong.”
“You don’t know my sex life.”
He laughs. “Anyone who says sex is overrated isn’t doing it right. Maybe the way you’re doing it is a bit too…vanilla. You need something extra to make it crazy and wild.”
“Oh yeah? Like what? You?”
He raises his brow. “If that’s what you think you need.”
His smoldering eyes are watching me and I can tell they’re thinking of doing naughty things. His charisma is absolutely magnetic.
Is my heartbeat racing? Because I feel hot all of a sudden. There’s nothing I’d like to do more than jump Logan Drake’s bones—to touch that body of his, to see if we have that sexual chemistry he’s talking about, even though I know it’s completely inappropriate.
“Absolutely not,” I say. “We have a professional working relationship.”
“You’re right. We’re professionals.” He smirks as he takes a sip of beer.
I swallow. Just imagining him—naked—doing these things is insanely distracting.
“How many partners have you had?” He asks.
“Well.” I clear my throat. “Keith is the only person I’ve ever slept with and we only did it once.”
“No wonder you think sex is overrated. You did it with a guy who doesn’t look like he knows what a shower is.”
I laugh.
“Seriously though, why him? You guys don’t seem like a match.”
“I knew school would take up all my time, so I told myself not to date anyone.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too distracting. Relationships are a lot of work. Look at us.” I lean in and lower my voice. “We’re in a fake one and it’s still a lot of work.”
“Is this work?”
“You know what I mean.” I sigh. “Anyway, I didn’t date all through high school.”
“What changed?”
“I turned twenty-one and I realized that if I don’t date—or even lose my virginity—until the end of university, then I’d be in my late twenties! And isn’t university all about gaining experience?”
“So you found the sleaziest guy you could?”
“No,” I say defensively. “I was afraid to lose my virginity to the guy I actually liked—you know, in case I embarrassed myself. I didn’t find the sleaziest guy, I found the easiest guy.”
He bursts out laughing. “Okay, now it all makes sense.”
I knit my eyebrows together. “It’s not funny! I just wanted to get it over with and get all my ne
rves out of the way so that when I finally do it with someone I like, it will be good and amazing.”
“How do you know it’ll be good and amazing?”
“Because…you’re going to find this silly.” I look up at him.
“I won’t, I promise.”
“Because the next person I have sex with will be someone I’m in love with.”
“And that’ll make it better?”
“Of course!” I’m almost offended that he even has to ask. “I want more than just something physical…I want passion, intimacy, friendship, romance.”
“Be prepared to be disappointed again.” He drinks his beer.
“Have you ever had something like that?”
“Not really.”
“And you don’t think you ever will?”
He pauses. “I don’t know.”
“Well one day you might experience it and you’ll think about me.”
He laughs. “You want me to think of you when I’m having sex?”
“No!”
“Sorry—I meant making love.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He laughs again. “I know, I know. I’m just teasing you. You know, you’re really cute when you’re all romantic like this.”
I sit up in my seat. “You don’t believe in love?”
He leans in. “Now we’re getting to the serious questions.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
In an effort to end this conversation, I look around the bar at all the students who are drinking and talking. Some are dancing on the makeshift dancefloor in front of the bar. When I look back at Logan, I’m struck by his dark eyes.
“You’re staring at me again,” I say.
“Your eyes. They remind me of the beach.”
“The beach?”
“They’re the color of sea glass. I used to go to the beach with my mom and sisters on holidays and we’d look for sea glass in the sand. The grayish-green of your eyes reminds me of that.”
I smile.
“What?” He asks.
“The thought of you looking for sea glass on the beach with your mom and sisters is so wholesome. It’s so different from what I envisioned you were like as a kid.”
Logan Page 8
