Page 26 of In Too Deep

Sliding the device out from the hidden pocket at my side, I hold it up. I’d considered setting it to record this interaction as insurance, but the lack of evidence of my relationships with Spencer, Eli, and Oli would work in my favor. And leaving it behind wasn’t an option, as I didn’t want to not have a way to call for help if I needed it. Logan sits forward and holds out his hand, the silent command clear. I pause, not sure I like where this is going.

“Turn it off and hand it to me, please,” he says after an agonizing couple of heartbeats.

“Why should I?” I challenge, my guard coming up.

He doesn’t answer, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own device. Making sure I can see the screen, he powers it down and opens a drawer in his desk. I’m not sure what game he’s playing, but for now, it would be easier to play along. I follow his instructions, and he places my phone in the drawer beside his, closes it, and locks it, handing me the key. Our fingers touch for the briefest moment, and I jump at the slight jolt, not that he notices. Once I’ve withdrawn my hand, he stands with a groan, sliding his hands into his pockets as he meanders out from behind his desk.

“Now that we have some privacy, we have a lot to discuss, don’t we?” His tone is casual, too casual.

Twisting in my seat, I watch him make his way to the door, swallowing hard as he locks the handle. I clench the key in my fist, trying to keep myself from shaking. The coaching offices don’t have cameras inside of them, but I passed plenty of them on my way here, including the one at the end of the hall pointing at the doors. We’re only a few hours away from practice, and I know several players who arrive early to get warmed up. My boys are expecting me to be there at practice to mic up one of the players today. It’s only those facts that let me remain calm enough to answer.

“I can assure you, whatever you think you saw has a perfectly innocent explanation,” I reply steadily.

Logan laughs, returning to the desk, but this time he leans against the edge in front of me, his larger frame looming over mine. He’s in a black polo today, his black slacks hugging his thighs perfectly. The short sleeves allow glimpses of his tattoos, or at least the parts that come down over his elbows. I don’t know how I didn’t notice them before, but they’re impossible to ignore now. Especially as my mind conjures the memories of those pool party photos from Arizona.

“Eyes up here,” Logan snaps. It’s not a bark, but certainly not a request either.

I suck in a sharp breath through my nose, my eyes locking onto his forest-green orbs, a shiver coming over me as I see the heat flaring to life there.

“How long?”

“That’s… There’s nothing—”

A growl cuts off the lie before it can fully form, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to flinch. Logan inhales deeply, and I mirror him subconsciously, though I immediately wish I hadn’t. His scent is everywhere, cinnamon and cloves and apples, a heady rush that makes me sway slightly.

“I was hoping you would choose not to lie to me.” He sighs, pulling my focus back to his face.

Something about the tone of his voice, like he’s not mad but just disappointed, makes my stomach flip and my pussy clench, and I have to clear my throat. I need to keep my head, or I could lose everything.

“Is it just Astrauckas? Or are you involved with the other two? And keep in mind, if you continue to lie to me, there will be consequences,” Logan asks, trailing off in a low growl.

I look away for a moment, trying to get my body under control. My nipples press hard against the inside of my bra, and my face is on fire beneath his attention.

“As I was trying to say, Coach, I don’t know what you thought you saw, but I’m—”

Logan lunges before I finish. I gasp as his fingers close around my throat, pulling me out of my seat and practically off my feet until we’re nose to nose. The black of his pupils has swallowed all but the thinnest sliver of green in his eyes, his scent strong with warm spices. I’m off balance, and I have to cling to his wrist or risk falling over.

“I don’t care what lies you cooked up for me. I know what I saw. Not just yesterday, but all fucking season. The lingering looks, the smiles you share when you don’t think anyone is looking. They come to practice dripping in your scent. And then, to top it all off, there’s this.”

Logan pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, using his grip on my chin to turn my gaze to look at it. My heart stops as I see the printed picture, an artsy shot from when we were in St. Martin. I was lounging by the pool, Oli behind me in the chair, one arm wrapped around my chest as Spencer leans close, the back of my hand pressed to his mouth for a kiss.

“Jokinson took this, didn’t he? Or did you have a photographer with you on your little getaway?” Logan snarls.

“I don’t — How d-did you get that?” I ask as tears form at the edges of my eyes.

Despair starts to drag me down into its dark depths. Tears slip free at last, sliding down my cheeks and onto Logan’s hand. I don’t even fight him anymore, and I can’t take my eyes off the picture. I can’t fight this. It’s all right there, pixels as proof of the truth.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’s okay, baby girl. I’m sure Joker didn’t mean to send it to me, because he tried to unsend it almostimmediately after. But I couldn’t help myself,” Logan replies, shifting from angry to soothing as one of his thumbs comes up to wipe away a tear.

I close my eyes, my whole body trembling as I teeter on the edge of a panic attack. I sense it approaching like a tsunami, expanding and expanding, poised to engulf me entirely. But then Logan’s hand releases my throat and cups my jaw, the picture fluttering to the floor as his other hand does the same.

“Open your eyes for me,” Logan purrs.

My lids crack open slightly, and Logan manipulates my head until I’m looking into his eyes again. The heat is still there, but there’s something like concern mixed in.

“There’s a good girl. Now breathe with me, in and out. Ready?”

My chest expands and contracts in time with his, the wave retreating with each soothing cycle. The whole time, Logan is there, keeping eye contact and wiping my cheeks with his thumbs. I’m almost boneless, my fight completely gone. I realize that I’ve grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, and I use the sensation to ground myself.

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