But my heart lurches in my chest at the fact that he doesn’t want to see anyone else, either.
Austin whistles. “Holy fuck. Logan Gray’s finally locking it down?”
Logan grins, finally dragging his gaze away from mine, and pops a pretzel in his mouth. “None of your business, Rhodes.”
The girl blinks, clearly confused, and then walks off, heading back to her friends.
A few of the guys laugh and shake their heads, and just like that, the attention moves on. But that look he’s giving me makes me want to drag him out of here and kiss him.
I glance away from him and look down at the bottle. I’ve been nursing the same beer for an hour. The edge of the label is peeling under my thumb, and my heart is beating way too fast.
But then Logan stands, and my attention flies to him as he tosses a bill on the table. “Head hurts,” he says, slipping his wallet back into his jeans. “Gonna head back.”
He glances at me, waiting, and I try to act like I wasn’t already halfway out of my seat the second he moved.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing up. “I’ll come with you. I’m pretty beat after the game.”
Logan smirks. “Oooh, yay. We can cuddle.”
My cheeks burn at howblatantlyhe says it. But the guys just chuckle and keep talking. Too drunk, too distracted, or maybe just too used to Logan being Logan.
I pocket my phone and head toward the exit, pushing open the front door. I blow out a breath when I step outside, the cold air puffing into a cloud in front of me as I shove my hands in my pockets.
When I hear the door open, I glance over my shoulder, seeing Logan grinning at me, which makes me narrow my eyes.
“You were way too obvious,” I tell him, running a hand through my hair, the chill creeping onto my fingers.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Relax. I could kiss you and they wouldn’t suspect a thing,” he tells me, nudging my shoulder. “Hell, my gaydar’s good as shit and even I thought you were straight.”
I let out a huff and shake my head as we head back to the hotel. It’s a short walk, and since it’s late as hell, the streets are pretty quiet, just a few couples walking hand-in-hand under the streetlights.
I glance at them, a sharp twist landing in my stomach, wishing I could do the same, wishing?—
Logan’s hand brushes mine, and I glance at him, seeing him hold out his hand. My eyes fly to his and I start to shake my head, but he cuts me off.
“No one knows us here,” he says, holding my gaze. “Just… Please. Let me hold your hand, Nathan.”
My heart thuds hard against my chest and I stare at his hands, remembering how they were all over my body, inside me, interlocked with mine on the bus, and I finally slide my fingers into his.
He laces his through mine, giving my hand a small squeeze as we walk, my thumb brushes along the callused edge of his fingers. His thumb brushes slowly over my knuckles, and for once, I don’t pull away. I don’t even look around to check who’s watching. It feels too good.
Logan’s still holding my hand when we push into the lobby of the hotel. He doesn’t drop it even when we pass the front desk.
A couple walking by gives us a once-over, their eyes flicking down to our joined hands, but Logan keeps walking. I don’t know how he makes everything look effortless, but I’m glad he doesn’t let go.
We reach the elevator, and the doors slide open right away. The second we’re inside and the doors close, he pulls me by the collar of my jacket.
“Finally,” he murmurs, before pressing his mouth to mine.
My breath catches in shock before I melt into him, my hands finding his waist, pulling him closer.
I don’t even realize we’ve stopped until the elevator dings and the doors fly open. I pull away from Logan, practically jumping to the opposite side when an older man stands in the doorway, blinking at us a few times.
Logan clears his throat, but it sounds more like a laugh as he runs a hand over his face.
“Evening,” the older man says with a nod as he steps inside.
Logan wipes his mouth again, smiling up at him. “You going up?” he asks him.