Page 61 of Off the Ice

No fucking way this was normal.

I met Ava’s eyes, then Darren’s, before I answered.

“Andrew?”

“We need to talk,” he said. Voice clipped. Tight. Like he was barely holding something back.

I straightened. “What’s going on?”

A pause. Then, “Not over the phone. Meet me at my office. Now.”

A cold chill rolled down my spine.

Every instinct screameddon’t go. Darren’s apartment was a war zone. We’d just decided to go public with something that could get us all buried. But McKay—he never cracked. Never rattled.

And right now? He sounded rattled as hell.

Ava stepped forward. “What was that about? He’s involved, Logan. You can’t go see him.”

I shook my head. “He’s my agent. I have to.”

She didn’t like it. I didn’t either.

But I couldn’t ignore this.

“Let’s see what he wants,” I said quietly.

Because if McKay was calling like this—demanding a late-night meeting—then something was coming.

And I was about to walk straight into it.

Thirty Two

Logan

IparkedoutsideAndrewMcKay’s office, gripping the steering wheel so hard my fingers ached. The tension in my chest hadn’t let up since the phone call, and now, sitting here, staring at the darkened windows of the agency, I knew I was walking into something I wouldn’t like.

I exhaled slowly, flexing my fingers before killing the engine. My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text from Ava.

Be careful. He's just as involved as Riker.

I closed my eyes for a second, letting that settle inside me. She’d stayed back at my apartment with Darren, where I knew they’d both be safe. At least for now. But this? This meeting felt like stepping onto thin ice, knowing any wrong move could send me crashing through. I pushed open the door and stepped into the building, the click of my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. McKay’s office was at the end, and when I knocked, the door opened almost immediately. Andrew stood there, looking every bit the polished agent in his tailored suit, his graying hair neatly styled. But his expression was tighter than usual, the forced calm barely hiding the tension beneath.

“Logan.” He gestured for me to come in.

I hesitated for half a second before stepping inside. The office was dim, a desk lamp casting long shadows across the sleek, modern furniture. I’d been here a dozen times before, but tonight, it felt different. Colder.

Andrew shut the door behind me. “Sit.”

I didn’t. His lips pressed together briefly before he sighed and moved behind his desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he lowered himself into his chair. He steepled his fingers, studying me like I was one of his high-profile contract negotiations, just another problem to be managed.

I crossed my arms. “Talk.”

Andrew leaned back. “Look, I’m going to be honest with you—”

“That’d be a first.”

His jaw twitched, but he kept his voice smooth. “I know what you think, but I’m not your enemy here.”

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