Page 40 of Overtime Goal
Last night, my nightmare had been about Logan instead of my childhood shit. He’d fallen wrong on the ice, and in thedream, it was much worse than what happened during the game. He fractured his spine, got a brain bleed, and after he woke from the coma, he didn’t know who I was. I’d had to reintroduce myself while he learned how to walk again.
When he shook me awake, I was soaked in sweat, mumbling words even I didn’t understand. My heart pounded so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. We’d had to change the sheets, but instead of asking questions, he held me.
Now, sitting in the sun outside the bakery, we ate lunch and pretended everything was fine. He didn’t bring up the team’s loss, and I acted like it hadn’t taken massive effort not to panic when I’d thought he was hurt.
Why am I feeling all this? What the hell don’t I understand?
He gave me a tired smile when he caught me watching him. “What’s up, Riles? Trying to decide between a new car or finally buying that pontoon boat?”
I snorted. “Actually, I was thinking about buying a house next to yours so I can bother you every damn day.”
He tilted his head, still smiling. “Thereisno house next to mine. I bought all that property.”
“Then I’ll make you sell it to me.”
He arched a brow. “Yeah? With what, charm and stubbornness?”
“Nope.” I lowered my voice. “With sex and whining.”
Logan huffed a laugh. “That’s disturbingly on-brand.”
“C’mon, you’d cave.” I leaned across the table. “Especially if I caught you at the right moment, like in the middle of what we did this morning.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong.”
After lunch, we went back home and did nothing but play basketball, order delivery for dinner, and suck each other off when we went to bed. I had no bad dreams but woke once to find Logan kissing the back of my neck and whispering how muchhe needed me. I almost turned over to see if he wanted sex, but something about the moment seemed too personal, as if he were talking to himself. Respecting that, I pretended I was still asleep and filed what he said in my heart.
The next day was locker cleanout at the practice facility. Last year, we’d rolled in riding high, still half-drunk after winning the Cup. This year was the mirror image of that day. Logan rode with me, and we walked in together, the same as always. No one said anything because they were used to it. Maybe they assumed we were codependent.
The energy in the room was fake as hell, and we chirped each other because that’s what we knew how to do. When in doubt, crack jokes, talk shit, and pretend you aren’t gutted.
Gabe, who was busy taking things out of his dry stall, looked over and grinned. “Finally. I thought you two might have eloped.”
Logan tossed his duffel on the floor by his stall. “We considered it, but Riles won’t sign a prenup.”
“Damn right I won’t.” I unzipped the bag I’d brought for my stuff. “Half your retirement fund’s going toward my yacht, and until we agree on that, I’m not signing anything.”
“Your yacht?” Harpy asked, walking in with a grimy white laundry bag slung over one shoulder. “Didn’t you try to rent a Jet Ski last summer and fall off before they even untied it?”
“That was sabotage,” I said. “The steering was fucked.”
Packy laughed as he came in from his meeting with Criswell. “Come on, you leaned too far when you waved to those girls. You dumped yourself.”
“Appreciate the support,” I muttered, flipping him off.
Holky walked around with a half-empty box of protein bars. “Anyone want these? Dog says they make me fart.”
Packy snorted. “You fart anyway. Those things are just fuel, so Dog’s out of luck.”
Dog appeared out of nowhere. “I’m right here. You eat those bars, Holky, and you’re sleeping somewhere else.”
They grinned at each other like they were the only two people in the room, and my heart skipped a beat. You could feel the powerful love between them. I flashed back to the day Holky had made Dog leave, when Logan, Abby, and I had stormed his house, begging him not to be stupid. Thank fuck he’d listened. The team wouldn’t be the same without those two flirting like it was a competitive sport.
Mason cut through the moment by tossing a roll of tape at Holky. “Save it for the wedding, lovebirds. Some of us are still trying to suppress our emotions.”
The laughter helped. It wasn’t genuine joy, but it dulled some of the ache. We were tight, and since nobody else in the world could understand how this loss felt, it was up to us to carry each other through it. One by one, we went to meet with Criswell. Everyone else bagged gear, scribbled signatures on required forms, and talked about what to say to the press.
Harpy leaned into Logan’s stall at one point and asked, “Where are you disappearing to this summer?”
