Page 8 of What It Means To Be Found

Great.

The asshole was a player, and we were all here in support of him, apparently.

Maybe I should have stayed back and gone to that stupid party with Michelle and Lucy instead.

“That’s so cool! How did I not know this about him?” Beck asked, her voice full of surprise. I tried to smile, but it clearly wavered. I eventually gave up and rubbed at my cheeks instead, an excuse in case anyone was wondering why I wasn’t smiling at the big guy on the ice.

It wasn’t really a secret to anybody that Logan and I didn’t get along.

I had smashed pie on his chest in front of Courtney and Josh, after all.

“Because he specifically asked me not to tell anybody for months,” Courtney replied.

“We only figured it out when Court and I went to the hockey game with the guys, remember?” Josh leaned back to chat with our friends behind us, his comment making Taylor and Beck’s eyes widen.

“What the hell? That was years ago.”

“That was a little over one year ago, but sure,” Courtney replied to Taylor, taking a drink from her soda can.

“Still, that’s such a long time. How did you keep that to yourself? How did none of us google him and figure this out ourselves?” Beck asked, her lips quirking to the side as if the concept really did confuse her. I just laughed at all their shock and awe, not willing to add anything to the conversation as long as Logan was concerned.

A few moments passed. The puck was dropped and the game started, grown men scattered everywhere as everyone chased the puck and swatted their little sticks. It took everything in me not to pull out my phone again, because the game seemed even less interesting to me now.

“What do you think?” Josh elbowed me in the arm, making me look up at him. The guy was tall, even when sitting in a seat.

“About what?” I smiled up at him.

“Logan,” Josh nodded towards the ice as he replied, “He’s a beast out there.”

I narrowed my eyes at Josh before I followed his gaze, spotting number twenty-nine way too easily. Logan wasn’t as tall as Josh, but he was right up there around six-three or so. He towered over most of the other players, and he was fast. I eyeballed him as he shoved a guy from the visiting team away so that he could swat at the puck, easily passing it to one of his teammates.

“Yeah. Full beast mode,” I agreed, my tone only sounding a little deadpan to my own ears. Josh’s chuckle let me know I didn’t fool him.

“Wow, you really hate the guy,” he replied, pinching my arm once. I ignored the pinch and folded my arms across my chest, crossing my legs as well. It was a defensive pose.

“Hate is a strong word to describe my feelings towards him,” I lied, “I just…don’t really care about hockey.”

“I don’t either.” Josh leaned back, winking at me before he said, “But I like watching the men play.”

I narrowed my eyes. Josh was bisexual and, unfortunately, there was one fact about Logan that everyone in our group universally accepted.

Logan St. James was hot.

I accepted it, even though I refused to acknowledge it.

He was unfairly good-looking. He had those sharp facial features that belonged on magazine covers. I would know, having been on some myself for my temporary gig as an underwear model for size-inclusive underwear. He had those high cheekbones and thick tendons on his neck that made women’s mouths go dry. His jawline was so sharp he could probably cut stone with it. He was extremely physically fit, with toned muscles everywhere. Which, now that I knew he was a professional athlete, made a little more sense as to why he was so fit. His dark curly hair, which he usually kept a little too long, was what did me in the first time I saw him.

As I said, he was hot. So much so that sometimes, rarely, Josh would even get flustered if Logan stared at him too long or happened to wink in his direction. Because of this, there was now a rule that stated that Logan could not use his crazy good looks to manipulate his opponents into flirtatious stupors, in an attempt to win charades or whatever party game we were in the middle of.

I only knew about this from the grapevine, because whenever our friends mentioned that Logan was attending a group hang, I usually ended up finding an excuse not to go that time.

“Ah, have you been reading some of Courtney’s hockey romances?” I asked Josh, in an attempt to divert the subject away from the guy who took one look at me and decided that I wasn’t worth his time. And has embarrassed me every chance he’s had since.

“I am unapologetically hooked.” Josh shook his head. “We started reading this nonfiction book a few weeks back that has wonderful reviews and ratings, and the whole time I kept asking Court, ‘When are they gonna bang?’”

That made a laugh erupt out of me, because holy shit, Josh was perfect.

“I totally get that!” I agreed. “If there isn’t a happily ever after, I am not interested!”

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