Page 116 of The Risk Taker

Those usually hard, dark eyes soften. “You don’t need to keep thanking me, Logan.”

“I want to,” I say, my hands flying to his hips. “It meant a lot to me.”

“I wanted you there.” His fingers brush against mine. “You belonged there.”

My throat goes tight, but I let out a laugh. “Couldn’t go two weeks without me, huh?”

“No,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “I’ve become obsessed.”

I suck in a breath, his words making my belly flip. “Me too,” I admit.

I step closer, close enough for our skates to brush, for his breath to warm my cheek. My gloved fingers find his neck, tracing the edge of his jaw before I lean in and kiss him.

His lips are a little cold, but his mouth is warm when it opens against mine. My hands find his coat, holding him steady as our skates shift on the ice.

When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the cold, but he doesn’t move away.

I wish I could tell him everything I’m thinking.

That I love him. That I’m scared out of my damn mind. That this—whatever it is—feels like the beginning of something I’ve never let myself want before.

But I’m too scared that he won’t feel the same and I’ll lose him.

We just stay there for a while, breathing the same frozen air. Then he squeezes my hand, and we start skating again, and every time our fingers brush or he glances my way, I let myself believe that maybe he feels the same.

I hope to hell it’s true.

29

NATHAN

It’s the first Saturday back after break, which means half of Colton U has ended up in someone’s off-campus house.

I don’t even know whose place this is—one of the seniors, probably—but Austin’s planted himself right in the middle of the living room, with a bottle of tequila in his hand.

I tip my head back on the couch beside Logan, my head brushing against his arm, which is draped along the backrest. His knee keeps brushing mine every few seconds. I’d like to think it’s accidental, but knowing him, it’s absolutely not.

“Alright,” Austin says, grinning like he’s been waiting all night for this. “Truth or drink. The rules are simple. If you lie, you drink; if you dodge, you drink; and if you cry, I film it.”

Ryan groans from the couch beside Isabella. “Why do all your games end with someone vomiting in the sink?”

“Tradition,” Austin says proudly, pouring a shot and sliding it toward Miles. “Rookie’s turn. Don’t be lame.”

The kid practically lights up. “Okay, okay…” His eyes dart around the circle before landing squarely on Logan. “Logan.”

Logan tips his chin. “Shoot.”

“You ever hook up with someone on the team?”

The words hang in the air for a second, and the room bursts into laughter, the guys wheezing like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard.

But my heart stops.

I freeze, my cup halfway to my mouth. My pulse is slamming so hard in my ears I can barely hear the noise around me.

He can’t say yes.

He won’t.