Page 111 of Fraternizing with the Enemy
“Fine. I won’t say anything.” I turned to Connor, reaching for Logan’s hand at the same time. “But when everything blows up in your face, I’ll be the first to say I told you so.”
I grabbed Logan’s hand, and I drew him back outto the sidewalk. My world almost feltlouder, despite leaving the chatter and the coffee grinder behind. My thoughts grew in volume, taking up the space.
I dropped Logan’s hand once we were away from Expresso’s windows, but still on the sidewalk near the coffee shop. “They’re—they’re so stupid,” I gasped out, running my fingers through my hair. “Idiotic. Seriously lost their minds. I don’t—I don’t even get why he’d keep it a secret from Jade in the first place!”
I mean, I understood, Jade would’ve had a thing or two to say about him needing a tutor, but wasn’t her knowing better thannotknowing? Then sneaking around behind her back? Did that not stress him out?
Logan scratched the side of his neck. “Why does he need a tutor, like, three weeks into the school year?”
“Right?” I scoffed, and then it sank in. “Right? Oh my gosh, do you think the tutoring was a cover?”
“Madison—”
“Do you think they’re actually in there on a date right now? And they thought, ‘oh, bring your math book, Maisie, and we’ll pretend we’re tutoring if we get caught’? Oh, those twolittle?—”
“What did she mean?” Logan asked suddenly. “What did Maisie mean when she saidjust like last time?”
Crap. He’d caught that. I let out a little breath as I stared up at him, feeling the cold wind stir the hem of my dress. “Well,” I began slowly. “Uh?—”
“Did she post something about us?” The urgency that had filled me now crashed into Logan. “She did, didn’t she?”
I thought about lying, but he’d check Babble thesecond he got home. “She took a picture of us last Wednesday, when you dropped me off,” I said quietly. “And posted it to Babble.”
“Wednesday?” Logan’s eyes flew wide. “And you didn’t say anything?”
He wasn’t angry—thankfully—but the panic in his expression made my stomach twist. “I didn’t want you to worry?—”
“Jade.” His voice cracked like a whip, eyes flashing. “She found out? Did she say something? Did she tell you?—”
“This is why I kept it to myself,” I murmured in a soothing voice, taking a step forward and reaching for his arms. “It’s fine. She thinks you moved onto some other Brentwood girl, not me.”
The haunted look in Logan’s eyes didn’t fade. “She knows.”
“She doesn’t.” But shewassuspicious. That was why she’d called Mom Friday when I’d left the Players Only party. I definitely wasn’t going to tell Logan that. “The only people who know now are your friends, and Maisie and Connor. And those two—they won’t tell. Not if I don’t. And I won’t.” I gave his upper arms a squeeze. “I’ve got it handled.”
Logan squeezed his eyes shut, but his own hands came up and cupped my elbows, grounding himself to me. “I’m just—” Logan drew in a breath, one that caused his chest to rise and fall shakily. “I just hate waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“But we’ll be together if it drops. And it’ll be okay.”
I hadn’t realized just how much anxiety Logan carried, like holding the football too long with defendersclosing in.This is why you can’t handle everything yourself, I wanted to tell him.One running back can’t win the game on his own.
“I’m the reason they broke Noah’s leg,” Logan confessed suddenly, words whispered while his eyes remained pinched closed.
My lips parted. “What?”
“It’s my fault.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “I’m the reason they went after him.”
A bright light flashed in my peripheral vision, and for a horrifying moment, I thought it was a camera flash. But, no, it was just headlights flicking on from across the street. Still, I became too aware of howpublicwe were at that moment. Grabbing Logan’s wrist, I led him down the sidewalk and to the alley we’d stepped into once upon a time.
It was much, much darker now than it’d been a few weeks ago, so dark that I could barely make out Logan’s features. His eyes were open, but I couldn’t make out what emotion simmered within them—just that they were glassy. “Logan,” I murmured. “Why would you say that?”
“Last year, two guys from Brentwood—at Expresso’s, the day before the game—they offered me money.” His voice shook, small and deeply upset. “They wanted me to throw a few plays. Said it’d look bad if Brentwood lost to the Bulldogs. Kyle and Ashton.”
If it’d been anyone else, I might not have believed him. But Ashton and Kyle? That at least sounded possible.
“They offered—three hundred bucks. Chump change, they said. Just to let them win. They… they came tome, not Noah… because I looked easier to… to convince.”
More like easier to manipulate, if I could guess Ashton’s thought process. I bit my lip. It was still extreme. Even for them. I squeezed Logan’s arm, feeling the tension coiled through him. “Did you take it? Did you… accept?”
