Page 68 of The Cutting Edge
Even if a part of me knows it’s the absolute fucking truth.
Chapter twenty-six
Coco
Justoutsidethearena,Logan’s making his move.
"Come on, Coco, you know you want to," Logan teases, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I need my lucky charm with me."
“Do you, now?” I roll my eyes at him, but can't help the smile that tugs at my lips.
“I do. I promise, I’ll take care of all the details, all you have to do is show up.”
"Fine, I'll fly to Pennsylvania to watch you kick Philly’s ass. But only because you asked so nicely," I say, feigning reluctance.
"Ah, you're the best," he exclaims, wrapping me in a warm hug, his muscular arms enveloping me like a protective shield. I breathe in his scent - a mix of conquering hero, citrusy soap, and something uniquely Logan - and feel my heart flutter in response.
As we reluctantly pull apart, I look into his dark brown eyes, which seem to hold a world of secrets and promises. In that exact moment, I wonder if there's anything I wouldn't do to make Logan Rivers happy - especially because despite all he’s done for me, the only thing he's ever asked of me is something as easy as traveling to another city to cheer him on from the stands.
Plus, you know, as his lucky charm I was planning to go to the game anyway since my travel is covered by the team. I just like to get Logan going.
"Alright, Mr. Star Player, don't let me down," I warn playfully, wagging a finger at him. "I expect nothing less than a stellar performance."
“I can absolutely guarantee that,” he smiles devilishly.
“On the ice,” I say. “A stellar performanceon the ice.”
"Oh. Okay, I can’t guarantee that one, but I promise I won't disappoint," he replies confidently, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Especially not with you watching."
I laugh, shaking my head at his flirtatiousness. There's something about Logan that makes me feel alive as if every nerve ending in my body has suddenly awakened. As a competitive figure skater, I've spent years honing my craft and pushing myself to the brink of my physical ability - but being around Logan feels light and fun, like diving into a pool of cool water on a sweltering summer day.
"Alright, I'd better start packing," I sigh, already anticipating my usual habit of bringing half of what I own to wherever I'm going. A side effect of a childhood punctuated by constant travel to skating competitions. "I guess I'll see you in Philly?"
"Absolutely," Logan confirms, his smile widening. "I'll send you the details for the wives' and girlfriends’ plane. I've got to go and get Poppy situated. But I'll be counting down the hours until I see you again."
"Me too," I admit quietly, my cheeks flushing with warmth. Then, with a final wave, I turn and head back toward my cottage, my heart soaring at the thought of seeing Logan again soon.
As I walk away, I can't help but think about how different my life has become since meeting Logan. From the moment that puck hit my head, everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down - and yet, now, despite the challenges and uncertainties, it’s actually starting to feel like it might be the best thing that ever happened to me.
Unless I freak out and screw it all up.
Chapter twenty-seven
Coco
Withmygiantsuitcasein tow, I arrive at the private airport terminal where Logan has arranged for me to fly with the team wives and girlfriends to Philly. The excitement in the air is palpable as I gaze at the luxurious jet waiting on the tarmac. It's a far cry from the crowded airports, carry-on roulette, and budget airlines I'm accustomed to.
"Hey, Coco!" calls out a cheerful voice. I turn to see Shayna, one of the wives, waving me over. "Welcome to the WAGs jet. We were just about to pop some champagne!"
"What’s a WAG?" I laugh, following her up the steps onto the aircraft. The interior is plush and comfortable, complete with leather seats and enough legroom for days. I settle into a window seat while Marcy pops the cork on a bottle of bubbly, filling up flutes for everyone.
“Wives and girlfriends,” Shayna answers.
"To our Slashers," she toasts, raising her glass. We all clink together and take sips of the effervescent liquid, its bubbles tickling my nose.
"Wow, this is amazing," I marvel, sinking back into my seat. "Thank you for including me."
If Orange Fanta were a person, it would be Trixie, the wife of head coach Sully Michaels, who beams with joy every time she speaks. She's petite and fun, her energy contagious and vibrant. Her coal-black hair dances around her sanguine face as she gestures with excitement. "Of course! We're thrilled to have you with us," she gushes. "Who knows?Somebodymight end up being the next addition to our little hockey family."
