Page 110

“Yeah,” I said. “I do. And I think it’s serious.” But I was looking at Logan as I said the words.

Logan’s expression changed, softening.

“Shit,” Boone said, and I couldn’t decide if he was more surprised or disappointed. “Are you sure?”

When Logan nodded, I felt as if I might float away. “Yeah,” I answered. “I’m sure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

August

Carson grumbled from his position on the couch beside me. I glanced over at him, sucked in momentarily by the sight of his glasses and curly hair. That grumpy little set to his mouth didn’t hurt either.

We’d returned from a workout at the Atlas Center not that long ago, and we’d cooked dinner together then changed almost immediately into pajamas. We’d been relaxing on the couch since then, and it felt nice. Cozy. Well, apart from whatever was bothering Carson.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as he practically growled at his phone.

“Nothing.” He turned ever so slightly, angling his screen away from me. Or at least, I thought he had. Maybe I’d imagined it.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” I said in a teasing tone. Carson was so rarely grumpy. Whatever was bothering him must be big.

“Stupid fucking idiots,” he mumbled as his fingers raced across the screen.

“Who? Your teammates?”

He shook his head, and I moved so I could see his screen. He was on social media, but I couldn’t see the post he was responding to, only the comment section.

“Are you seriously engaging with online trolls right now?” I asked, gesturing to his phone. “When we are supposed to be watching one of my top five favorite movies?” I was teasing. I did love this movie, but I didn’t like seeing Carson so tense.

“You’re right.” He placed his phone facedown on the coffee table. “Enough.”

“Good,” I said, grabbing the popcorn from the table and pressing Play once again on the remote.

Bowser was stomping around his castle, and I couldn’t help but think of Carson. Smash. Roar. I’m fine.

“Since when do you care about online trolls?” I asked, trying not to laugh at the image my brain had conjured.

Carson’s online persona could be polarizing. Many people loved him, and others loved to hate him. It was a big part of his charm. His fuck-off attitude.

“I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s just forget about it.”

“Can you, though?” I asked as Princess Peach appeared on-screen. “You seem pretty riled up.”

He slid his hand up my thigh. “Want to help me relax?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t deny that I was turned on. “That was so cheesy.”

He followed the path of his hand with his mouth. Somehow, I found myself lying on my back on the sofa, Carson peering at me from between my legs.

“Mm,” I moaned, dragging a hand through his hair.

I let out a contented sigh as he continued his leisurely exploration. The off-season might be my new favorite season.

My phone chimed, and I huffed, grabbing it from the coffee table. But when I saw the text from my agent, I nearly jumped off the couch. Fortunately, Carson dodged me, narrowly avoiding a knee to his face.

“What is it?” Carson asked, concern lining his tone. “What’s wrong?”

After weeks of deliberating, talking to Carson, to my teammates on the Wolves, I’d finally decided which team would be my home for the next three years. I’d signed the contract yesterday, at peace with my decision, despite knowing it would have a big impact on my life. I’d been waiting for it to come through before I’d told Carson.