Page 251 of Sin Bin

Cam wiggled his foot in the skate. “It’s not tight enough.”

“Well, they’re supposed to be snug, not—”

“Now ain’t this a sorry sight,” a deep voice drawled.

Meadow glanced up as Logan squatted next to her, taking Cam’s foot and nudging her out of the way. “Step aside, amateur. Let the pro show you how it’s done.”

Cam giggled in relief.

“I almost had it,” Meadow blustered.

“Uh-huh,” Logan scoffed. “Sure you did.”

Cam giggled harder, earning a wink from Logan.

Meadow scowled and stood with her hands on her hips, watching Logan’s nimble fingers make quick work of lacing up Cam’s skates.

“Voila,” he declared.

Cam clapped and cheered.

Meadow rolled her eyes.

Logan rose to his feet and gave her a smug smirk.

“Showoff,” she grumbled.

“Hater,” he retorted.

She playfully huffed and rolled her eyes again.

Logan helped Cameron off the bench, holding him steady as he wobbled on his skates. “You good, champ?”

Cam bobbed his head and gave a thumbs-up.

Meadow could see several other boys watching enviously as Logan gripped Cam’s shoulder and gave him a few last-minute pointers. Cam gazed up at him with such implicit trust and admiration, her heart swelled and a lump formed in her throat.

Once Logan finished his pep talk, he double-checked the chin strap on Cam’s helmet and made sure the rest of his gear was secure. Then he grinned in satisfaction and slapped Cam on the helmet. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s do this!” Cam roared.

“Whoa,” Meadow laughed, shaking her head in amazement. “Who are you and what have you done with my sweet little cousin?”

Logan grinned. “Leave him be, woman. He’s unleashing his inner beast.”

“Inner beast? He’s five.” As Cam clomped off toward the ice, Meadow called after him, “Good luck, Bear!”

She could feel everyone staring at her and Logan as they joined the other parents in the stands. Several people had their phones out, openly snapping pictures and recording them as they took their seats. The dads were grinning idiotically, clearly itching to come sit with Logan. More than a few moms were applying lipstick and checking their reflections in compact mirrors, probably wishing they’d gotten dolled up before leaving the house that morning.

One particular white woman was giving Meadow and Logan a nasty glare, disapproval radiating from her in toxic waves.

Meadow swallowed uncomfortably and looked away, her stomach knotting with tension.

Ever attuned to her moods, Logan frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled.

He turned his head in the direction she’d been looking. Narrowing his eyes, he stared the woman down until she dropped her gaze to her lap and clamped her lips together.

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