Page 39 of Speed

I pulled out my phone and hesitated. There it was—the message I’d ignored in the car. Hovering over it, I tapped it open, expecting some pissed-off lecture from Noah. Instead, I got this:

Feeling your fears deep in my heart. See you when I get home. - N

What kind of nice was this? How was he such a good person? I stared at the words until they blurred, my chest tightening in a way I didn’t want to name. Then, I slumped onto the cold steps outside Logan’s place, dragging my jacket tighter around me. It was chilly for September, a sharp chill that crawled under my skin and made my bones ache. Fitting, really.

The door opened behind me, and I heard Logan’s voice, groggy but familiar. “Brody? Are you coming in?”

I shook my head. “I might just sit here.”

There was a pause, and then, the door clicked shut again. Footsteps padded across the porch, and Logan sat down next to me, wearing sweats and a jacket he’d probably grabbed on the way out. “I thought you were going to a hockey game?”

“I did,” I muttered. “The Jumbotron showed my face, so I left.”

“You left.”

“Uh-huh.”

Logan sighed. “Let’s go inside and talk.” Logan punched a code into the keypad by the door. “New number is 8829,” he said. “Left the main gate open and had someone come in we didn’t want.”

I frowned. “Who?”

“Grandfather and some guy in a suit,” Logan said, his voice tight. “Looking for you.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, my gut twisting. “Tell me you didn’t tell him about my head.”

“I told him fuck all, then threw the bastard out.” I followed him in, kicking off my boots in the entryway as the warmth of the house seeped into my cold skin, then headed to the living room, where Logan sat in his usual chair. “What's up?”

I shrugged, running a hand through my hair. “Nothing.”

Logan’s expression softened, but his tone stayed firm. “Brody. Come on. You look like shit. Talk to me.”

I sank onto the couch, the exhaustion hitting me all at once. “I didn’t think anyone would notice me at the game,” I admitted. “Guess I was wrong.”

“You think?” Logan said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I just wanted to see Noah, and we were supposed to meet up later,” I said. “But the cameras found me, and I freaked out. I didn’t want to answer the questions or face tomorrow's headlines. I know I'm being stupid; I mean, who the hell would care about me being at a freakin’ hockey game?”

“So, you ran.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you talk to Noah first?”

“No.”

Logan sighed, sitting down next to me. “You know, Brody, running isn’t going to fix anything. You can’t keep hiding from the media forever.”

“I’m not,” I snapped, my voice harsher than intended.

“Aren’t you?” Logan said, raising an eyebrow. “You don't want people knowing about the aneurysm, but this isn't that is it? You like Noah, but you're scared people will find out? You don’t want the world to know you’re bi or pan or whatever, and falling for a guy.”

“Bi, and no, I’m not falling for Noah.” The denial was automatic.

Logan snorted. “Your expression whenever you mention his name says otherwise.”

I hesitated, glancing away. “He sees me.” The words felt dangerous, too honest, but they slipped out anyway. “He told me he's happy for us to do what we’re doing, but said he wouldn't wait around if I’m not out.”

“He's trying to force you to come out?” Logan sounded horrified.

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