Page 50 of Because of Logan

Her reaction is not what I expected. There’s a look of hurt in River’s eyes and she doesn’t bother to cover it like she usually does when something hurts her feelings.

“What?”

“Just because I have a big mouth and joke about sex a lot, it doesn’t mean I’m dropping my panties at every guy who looks at me, Skye.”

“What? No, no. I didn’t mean you. I didn’t mean it like that at all. I’m talking in generics. This is not a jab at you or anything like that. I wasn’t trying to slut-shame you. I’m sorry. I guess it came out that way.”

She still looks upset, but it’s more anger than hurt right now.

“And even if I were fucking every guy on campus, it still doesn't give you or anyone the right to judge me.”

Gosh, how did this get so out of hand? She’s right, of course.

“I was just making a joke, River. An exaggeration. You’re right. I have no right to judge anyone. Their choices are their choices, and there shouldn’t be different rules for women and men.”

There’s less heat in her eyes now. Again, I wonder what’s going on with my sister. Jokes like this never upset her before. I get to see the River I know, for the most part, but then, in moments like this, there’s something that’s not right and I have no idea what it is or what to do about it. I want to help my twin with whatever is hurting her, but she won’t let me in. I go back to her question.

“We haven’t had sex yet. I know he wants to, and I want to. I think it will happen soon. Maybe I should buy condoms and keep them in my room. What do you think?”

“You’re going to the pharmacy to grab a box of Trojans?”

She laughs at me. She knows I’d be mortified. Thank goodness I can Amazon Prime all the embarrassing stuff.

“Ugh, with my luck, one of my professors would be standing right behind me in line when I go pay for it. Maybe you can buy them for me.”

Yeah, right. She can’t even remember to buy coffee. Coffee! Who forgets to buy coffee?

“Sure. I’ll get you some of those glow-in-the-dark, and the flavored ones too. Ribbed, for her pleasure. XXL.”

“No, River. Just no. Forget I asked.”

Knowing my sister, she would do it too.

And give it to me during dinner.

With our parents.

Chapter Twenty

My eyes areon Skye as much as on the puck. I should be playing like shit with my attention split between her and the black rubber disk flying across the ice. But somehow, I’m playing one of my best games ever.

Twenty-seven seconds left on the clock and the score is three to one. I scored two of those goals. I think we can squeeze one more in. I glance one more time at Skye and get my attention back in the game.

I’m right outside the face-off, sticks battling for the puck, and I catch the rebound, turn, and skate across the ice, zigzagging between the other players. I can see number sixty-seven on the opposing team coming at me at full speed. He’ll try to smash me into the boards. I slow down, and just before he hits me, I spin out of his way and shoot. The next thing I hear is the sweet sound of the goal horn confirming my score.

The clock zeros just as the sound ends. Game over. All I want to do is skate to Skye, but I have over a thousand pounds’ worth of teammates hugging me and smacking my helmet. We do the customary glove pounding. The players skate to the tunnel and the few dozen family and friends who came in today are making their way out of the rink as well. Through it all, I keep my eyes on her.

Skye walks along the boards until she gets to one of the gates. I make my way to her, and when I get close enough, she throws herself at me. I catch her.

“Hat trick!” she yells at me, referring to the three goals I scored tonight.

You’d think I’d just won the Stanley Cup, she’s so excited about it. I drop her to her feet. The skates add another three or four inches to my height, and she has to crane her neck to look at me. I bend to kiss her.

“I’m all sweaty. I’m sure you don’t want to smell like a locker room,” I say, a little self-conscious.

Her small hands grab my jersey.

“Nope. You smell like victory.”

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