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I hang up and go inside. Michael’s at the desk, idly pushing the mug around.
“Michel,” I say. “I need to ask you a favor.”
He stands, ready. “Anything. After that, anything.”
“Let me come home with you.”
“To the house?” Michael says. “Well, sure.”
He sounds so innocent and confused. He’s looking at me as if wondering why it’s such a big deal, and there’s nothing I can do. Not yet. Just ride in the car and spring it on him like an intervention. But warning him would mean telling, and I can’t. It’s not my place.
“That was a real clapper last week, Logan,” he says as he heads to the car. “It’s because of the facewash, right?”
I can’t help but grin. “You were watching?”
“Oh yeah. I’ve been watching all your games.”
“Yeah. It was because of the facewash. I made him look like a fool on his own court. It has to be done sometimes. Winning isn’t just about the mechanics of the game. It’s morale. It’s…”
I trail off, amazed. I’m talking like I haven’t spent my entire career focusing on the nuts and bolts of it. Since learning about my baby, I started playing with more fire and purpose. Like every game is a war to see my woman and my child.
Michael looks at me over the roof of the car. “I was worried when you disappeared.”
I swallow. Imagine if he knew I was right here, and that I was the masked vigilante. He will know soon, some of it. When I don’t reply, he climbs into the car. I open the door and take a moment. Things could go very badly.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Emma
I stand at the window, my hand on the curtain, looking out onto the street. When Jack skated by and asked if Eric wanted to grind the rail, Eric looked at Mom, all at once, a kid again. He had no desire to get involved in the boring grownup showdown. Mom glanced at me as if to say,It was your phone he was snooping on.
I nodded. Why not? He knows it was wrong, and, knowing Mom’s parenting style, hewillpay the price somehow, whether through allowance or privileges.
“It sounds like they’re having fun out there,” Mom says from her armchair. She’s frantically knitting, the needles clicking together like nervous mouse teeth. “But I’ll make sure he never snoops on another phone. Believe me. Any sign of Dad?”
“No,” I reply, turning away, forcing myself to sit down, my hand over my belly.
“You’ve been to the doctor?” Mom says. When I nod, she lets out a long sigh of relief. “This is such a wondrous occasion—a child. Look at you. You’reglowing. I should’ve noticed. I really should’ve paid more attention.”
I feel so much love for Mom. She’s always been a dedicated mother. In the early years, she would carry me in a chest harness as she delivered packages around LA. Then, when Dad’s business picked up, she threw herself into motherhood. She became an expert at it. I’m lucky. She beats herself up too much.
I go to her chair, sit on the arm, and lay my hands atop hers. “I was hiding it, Mom. Anyway, the pregnancy glow is just something people say.”
“No.” Mom tenderly touches my face. “That’s not true at all. Youareglo…”
She trails off when Eric’s voice comes through the open window.“Hey, Dad!”This sounds overly excited and forced, but then Jack must spot Logan. Jack startsscreaming. “Logan Ice! The Ice Demon! Oh my God!”
I rush to the window, more love expanding in me when I see Logan kneel and shake Jack’s hand. Jack is beaming. I’ve never seen him this ecstatic in all the years he and Eric have been friends.
Jack skates toward his house, and Logan stands, hands in his pockets. He’s wearing a slick silver suit. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in something so stylish. It fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders. He turns and spots me, his whole body stiffening. He quickly turns away.
In the old days, before that glorious night in the hotel when we discovered we were made for each other, I would’ve messed with my own head about this. Is he mad? What’s going on? Is he going to split up with me?
Not anymore. Not since that night or since he’s proven his dedication through all those texts and phone calls. Jack skates out of his house. Then Logan kneels again, putting his arm around him as Jack’s dad takes a photo.
When they’re done, Dad and Logan head toward the house. The warmth whelming in me starts to turn cold at the edges when I hear the door open. It’s so sweet to see Logan with a child, not that I ever needed proof he’s going to be the best dad. However, now, it could shatter and break into irreparable pieces.
Dad walks into the room. Mom stands, her hands flustered, tugging at her clothes. She looks at me, stands up straighter, and looks at Dad. Logan, towering over everyone, stands behind Dad, his intense blues glinting sharply as he glances at me.
