Page 47 of The Fall

As we walk back into the rink, we all fall into our roles: Logan as the confident coach, Max as the confident skater here to have a good time, and me? Well, I’m the one who’s too nervous for her own good and overthinks everything.

We head toward the back area to wait for our turn. I notice a few people wave at Max. Logan even gets stopped for a few questions, but no one waves at me. I’m used to it, but it still hurts sometimes. My face doesn’t give off friendly vibes. I have to mentally remind myself to not look pissed when I’m skating.

“I’ll be back. Going to go find the bathroom,” Max tells us, and Logan and I find seats. We can barely see the ice from where we are, but that works for me. I don’t want to watch the other performances.

We’re quiet for a moment, but I feel like I have to say something. I can’t let it stew around in my head too long, or it will consume everything. “So, how’re you feeling this morning?”

Logan looks at me, and heat instantly courses through my body. How does a simple look from him completely turn me on? “I’m good. Thanks for, you know…”

“Yeah. I’m sorry if I crossed a line or anything,” I say quickly.

He smirks. “If anyone crossed a line, it was me, Savannah. I shouldn’t have even let you in my room. But…” He looks around to make sure no one is near us. “I really don’t want to apologize for it. I loved every second of it.”

“You did?”

He nods. “I may have had too much to drink, but I meant everything I said.”

“Logan…”

“Look, I’m not asking you for anything. I know you have a lot on your plate. And I certainly don’t want to be a distraction for you, but I’m not going to pretend I’m not attracted to you, Savannah. It’s impossible.”

I swallow, taking in his confession. “I’ve done nothing but be mean to you since you walked into our rink.”

He chuckles. It’s a low rumble that makes me feel all warm inside. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, baby. You can be mean to me all you want. It kinda turns me on, actually.”

Again, he’s calling me baby. Why did that give me butterflies? “Logan⁠—”

“And I deserve all the hate you’ve thrown my way. I own what I did to you, even if I didn’t do it intentionally. It was shitty, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it up to you, regardless of whether you’d let me.”

He’s wrong. He doesn’t deserve it. Not anymore. Despite what I originally thought, Logan is a good man with a big heart. His heart was broken the day he accidentally skated into me and for good reason. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened that day, but I do think I’m starting to forgive him.

I’m about to tell him that when Max sits down next to me. His hand falls to my thigh, and I watch Logan’s eyes zero in on it. His jaw ticks once before he looks away.

“What are we talking about?” Max asks.

“Just discussing the performance,” Logan lies. I’m grateful he’s willing to keep this between us for now.

“Really? Looked a bit heated. Everything ok?” Max looks from Logan to me.

“Yes. He was just giving me advice on one of the lifts, but I disagreed with him,” I say.

Thankfully, Max laughs and believes my story. “Yeah, that sounds about right for you, Sav.”

He leans down and kisses the side of my head. A normal thing for him to do, but it makes me uncomfortable all of a sudden. Why do I feel like I’m cheating?

Max knows we aren’t exclusive, and Logan and I are… nothing. Nothing has happened. He’s admitted to being attracted to me, and I’m obviously attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean I owe him anything.

I force myself to push these thoughts aside while we wait for our group to be called. We sit for what feels like forever waiting for our turn on the ice. When it’s finally time, Logan stands and turns toward us.

“Tati told me that you two aren’t big on pep talks, but I can throw one together if you need it.”

Max laughs. “I’m good, man.”

He looks at me next. “I’m good, too.” Pep talks always make me feel too much pressure.

“Alright then. Get out there and make shit happen.”

He smiles, and our eyes lock. Max heads to the ice, but I have an overwhelming urge to be close to Logan. As if he can sense that, he steps toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist.