Page 85 of The Cutting Edge
She laughs, "How is that different from what you're doing now?"
"Cut me some slack, I had a rough night. I've had alotof rough nights lately."
"I know you have, sweetie. But Logan was trying to make up for hitting you with the puck," says Marissa, washing her breakfast dishes in the kitchen sink and placing them in the basket to dry. "And if your stubborn butt would have just let him cover your hospital bills and the teaching hours you missed while you were in the hospital, maybe you two dorks wouldn't be in this position."
"He shouldn't have deceived me," I answer flatly. And also, I hate when she's right.
"True. But can you imagine how guilty he would have felt if you had to give up your Olympic dreams because he made one bad shot on one bad night? And you — you'd saddle him with that guilt forever just because you can't bear the thought of letting anyone help you? Ever? That's not like you."
"You know what happened with my Dad. And Brent."
"I do," says Marissa. "And Logan is nothing like either one of them. Your dad was always kind of a dick, and he should have never said what he said. Brent is Brent. I never knew what you saw in that guy. But you don't throw away an extraordinary skating career like yours over something so ridiculous as trying to do it all on your own – especially when you're in no condition to do it on your own. It's practically impossible to pay for your own training and expenses at the Olympic level — we have no room for errors, or accidents. Logan was clearly trying to fix what he broke. You wouldn't let him do it when he offered outright, and now you're pissed and inexplicably surprised that one of the most competitive guys in the league found another way to get across the goal line."
"It's the betrayal," I say.
"To me, this feels more like a secret than a betrayal, sweetie," she says, giving me a tight hug. "Like a surprise party or a birthday present. Intent is everything. We both know Logan is nothing like your dad or Brent. And I hate to bring this up since you've sworn to loathe him for all eternity once the Stanley Cup finals are over — but I'm pretty sure you're in love with him."
"I know," I wail, pulling Logan's weighted blanket around me tighter, tears flowing out of me like they might never stop. "What am I going to do?"
Chapter thirty-eight
Coco
Iwaketosunlightstreaming through my window and a pounding headache. For a moment, I’m disoriented. Then the events of the last few weeks come rushing back again in a flood of anguish.
Logan betrayed me. Used me. Made me into his lucky puppet to win a shot at the Stanley Cup.I've felt so guilty for weeks, agonized over telling him, because I thought I'd be violating the NDA and the team would sue me if I let it out. But he knew the whole time.
Tears prick my eyes and I swipe them away angrily. I can’t afford to cry over him. I have a competition in less than two months and need to focus.
With a groan, I drag myself out of bed and into my kitchen. But the sight of the weighted blanket Logan gave me on my living room couch, the blanket I’ve practically been living in for the last few weeks, makes the ache in my chest sharpen into a stabbing pain.
How could I have been so stupid? I threw away my heart on a man who didn’t listen to me, who didn’t respect my wishes, who let me feel like I was doing something wrong, whenhewas the one deceiving me.
The doorbell rings, interrupting my self-pity party. I peek out the peephole to find Logan standing there, clutching a bouquet of orchids. My favorite flowers.
Marissa is a traitor. She probably clued him in. She and Mrs. Markham have been tag-teaming me for weeks to reconsider, saying they've never seen me so happy. Until I wasn't.
Panic rises in my chest at the thought of facing him. I’m in no state to handle that conversation without breaking down.
“Coco, please open the door,” he calls softly. “I need to explain.”
I remain frozen, torn between longing to see him and the urge to send him away. Away from me, before he can cause any more heartbreak.
The doorbell rings again. “Coco, I never meant to hurt you. I was only trying to help. To make up for my mistake.” His voice cracks with emotion. “Please give me a chance to make things right. I lo—”
I yank open the door before he can say those three little words that would only make this harder. “Go away, Logan.”
He stares at me with those melted chocolate eyes and my traitorous heart skips. “Not until you listen to me.”
I fold my arms over my chest, trying to shield myself. But it’s no use. Logan has already breached my defenses, and we both know it.
“You have two minutes,” I say wearily. “Start talking.”
Logan thrusts the orchids at me. “These are for you.”
I don't take them. “The two minutes are ticking.”
He runs a hand through his hair, clearly distraught. “I never meant to deceive you. When I came up with the idea to have the team hire you as my lucky charm, I only wanted to make things right after causing your accident. To find a way to repay you for everythingI caused you to losewithout offending your pride.”
