Page 125 of Staying Selfless

“Don’t worry about it. You got stuff going on, but yeah, I’m stoked. The swelling is basically non-existent, and it’s already feeling so much better after that shot.”

The only reason I was even eligible to get a cortisone shot is because Logan rode my ass for the last two weeks, forcing me to keep my ankle elevated and iced even when I didn’t want to. At this point, I think my dream of playing in the NHL is as much hers.

“You should come hang at the rink tonight. I’m going to see if Logan will come, too. I need all the luck I can get.”

“Sure.” He shrugs, his tone dejected. “It’s not like I have anything else going on.”

I stand from the couch, giving him brother a sympathetic pat on his chest as I walk into the kitchen. Logan and Cam still have their heads in his book, Cam’s fingers threaded through his ginger locks in frustration. Goody is covered in flour. Literally...covered, but his baking sheet is filled with perfectly rolled dough, ready for the oven.

Walking behind Logan, I put my palms flat on the table, straddling her shoulders from behind.

“How much longer?” I ask, bending down next to her face.

“I’m not sure. What’s up?”

“I have my assessment with the coaching staff tonight, and I was hoping you would come with me.”

“When is it?”

“In an hour.”

“Cami, what do you think?” She turns to my teammate. “Do you think we could get through this in an hour?”

He stares at his textbook, eyes wide and blank. “If I have to look at these numbers for more than an hour, my head might explode. Why the hell does a kindergarten teacher need to know statistics, anyway?”

“That sounds like a yes,” I chime in, sealing my answer with a kiss on Logan’s cheek.

“Can I study while I’m there? I have a business management test in the morning.”

“I would expect nothing less,” I add, chuckling to myself as I leave her to help our struggling friend.

I take the liberty to scoop out some of Goody’s cookie dough from his mixing bowl, popping it in my mouth before heading up to my room to change.

“Damn. Not bad, man.”

“Goody’s goodies, bro!” He holds his hands up, putting himself on display. “I’m telling ya!”

Chapter 33

Logan

“Can I snag your notes?” Marc asks. “I took terrible ones this week and could not focus on a single word that came out of Professor O’Leary’s mouth.”

“Of course.” I email my lecture rundown without question.

I know why Marc took terrible notes this week and why he barely paid attention in any of our classes. It’s because he was too distracted by my raven-haired friend, who has been avoiding him since we got back from Gabe’s wedding and consequently, avoiding me too.

This is the least I’ve seen her since we’ve lived across the hall from one another. I know she’s not doing it to be mean, and the avoidance isn’t directed at me. She’s just in her head. But it makes me sad for both her and Marc that she can’t get past her hang-ups, and I really wish she would just speak to my best friend instead of altogether avoiding us both.

But Ali isn’t good at showing her emotions, and she’s definitely not great at expressing them with words. So, I think avoidance is her way of keeping them hidden when they’re too close to surfacing.

I hear Marc say something next to me, but I’m not sure what. I can’t focus on him or anything else for that matter because all my attention is currently locked in on the tall piece of ass across the rink, who is stepping onto the ice for the first time in almost two weeks.

Eli’s entire coaching staff and team doctors stand in front of the players’ bench as my boyfriend finishes tying up his laces. Marc and I decided to make our way to the far side of the arena to focus on studying for our test, but it’s no use. I’m distracted regardless.

“Logan,” Marc says. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” I hum, keeping my eyes on Eli.

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