Page 103 of The Way We Touch

“Oh, no!” I cover my face, not wanting to see my gentle giant of an older brother tackled by an even bigger giant. “Is he okay?”

“He’s okay.” Allie holds my forearm, rubbing my back.

“It was just a matter of time,” Jack grumbles as we watch Garrett clawing the grass, doing his best to get back on his feet. “They’re all studying the two of them.”

It doesn’t matter. The play is happening. The cornerback is headed straight for my man, and Logan is so focused on completing the pass, I’m not sure he even knows Garrett is out.

He’s off his feet, arms extended, gliding through the air. The entire room holds its breath as we wait to see if the defensive player, also reaching hard, is going to block it.

It’s the final play of the game. Garrett is on his feet again, and as the ball descends, two hands reach out.

“Get it, Logan!” I scream, and in that instant, his fingers stretch.

The ball sticks like velcro, and he rips it to his chest. It’s an off-center catch. One corner of the ball sticks up to his shoulder, but he’s got it. He continues flying through the air until he lands on his side, just at the corner of the goal line.

“It’s good!” Zane yells louder than I’ve heard him since he’s been home.

The entire restaurant bursts into screams and cheers. People are hugging and jumping up and down. It’s as wild as a Dare night. Craig laughs, running over to lift me up and spin me around.

When he puts me on my feet, he slaps both hands on the tops of my shoulders. “Did you see that?”

I’m laughing so hard, I can only nod my head. “I saw it!”

The field is in chaos with all the people running out to congratulate the players. Again, my brother has Logan off his feet in the air, but this time, he doesn’t make the signal.

This time he struggles to get down, to get to the reporter on the field. When the blonde woman asks how he’s feeling about the MVP award, he puts his hand on the neck of the mic, looking straight into the camera with his blue eyes so focused.

“Dylan Bradford, I love you. You are the perfect woman for me, and I want everyone in this town to know it. You’re exactly my type.”

Heat flashes from my head to my toes, and I cover my face with both hands as everyone in the restaurant turns to look at me. They’re all smiling, pride in their eyes, and I know I don’t have to prove anything in this place. We’ve all suffered and cried and supported each other through all of life’s ups and downs.

Still, that was on national TV.

Even if he can’t see or hear me, I hold up my hand, my thumb and index finger crossed, and say it loud, “I love you, Logan Murphy!”

Everyone breaks into applause, a taxi whistle cuts through the air, and the celebration continues.

“How will I celebrate Thanksgiving without you here?” Craig sits on the silver worktable in the kitchen. “You know my parents drive me crazy.”

“So come with me! We haven’t been to New York together since we were kids, and it’s going to be all decorated for the holiday. We can run around Midtown together, catch a show, ice skate at Rockefeller Center.”

“Logan would love that.” He rolls his eyes.

“He wouldn’t mind!”

“I am not horning in on your love nest. You two have sex all over the damn place. I’ve seen the photographic evidence.” My eyes narrow, and he holds up both hands. “Too soon?”

“Way too soon.”

“Sorry.” Craig hops off the table to give me a hug. “You know I’m the biggest fan of LoDy… DeeLo? DeeLight?”

“You are not combining our names… but I like DeeLight.” We both snort a laugh. “What about Closeted Clint? Why don’t you do something with him for Thanksgiving?”

“I’ve put him on notice.” Craig holds up a hand, shaking his head. “He either owns our relationship, or it’s over.”

My eyebrows rise. “Strong words from someone so infatuated.”

“I’m not infatuated, and I deserve a man who’ll fight for me, too.”

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