Chapter 113 Chapter 112
Logan POV
I don’t move.
That’s the problem.
The hallway is still around me, quiet except for the muffled thrum of the event behind the doors. Laughter. Glasses clinking. People pretending this is all charming.
My heart is still pounding like I just played a full overtime.
Harper’s words won’t leave my head.
I’ve always liked you, Logan.
Since middle school.
Years.
I feel like someone cracked my ribs open and poured the truth straight in.
I just stand there, staring at nothing, trying to rewind time.
Trying to understand how I missed something that big.
How I missed her.
Footsteps echo down the corridor.
Fast.
Purposeful.
Then Cole appears, suit jacket slightly rumpled, expression already irritated.
He takes one look at me and exhales.
“Dude,” he says, “people are looking for you.”
I blink slowly.
Cole jerks his chin toward the ballroom. “You know you can’t just disappear in the middle of these things, right? This is literally the kind of crap you’re going to have to do after you get drafted.”
His voice is half teasing, half annoyed.
“You might want to get used to the mingling bullshit.”
I don’t answer.
Cole narrows his eyes.
“…Okay. That’s new. You’re usually at least sarcastic.”
My throat feels dry.
I stare at him like he’s speaking another language.
Cole’s expression shifts. “Logan.”
I finally speak, voice rough.
“She’s liked me since middle school.”
Cole freezes.
“What?”
I blink again, still not entirely in my body.
“She said…” My jaw tightens. “She said she’s always liked me. Since middle school.”
Cole stares at me for a full beat.
Then his face twists like he’s trying to process the stupidity of the universe.
“Who,” he says slowly, “and what are you babbling about?”
I don’t answer.
Because saying Harper’s name out loud makes it real.
Makes it heavier.
Cole watches me, then looks past me down the hall like he might physically see the problem.
His shoulders drop.
He sighs, long-suffering.
“…Harper.”
It isn’t a question.
It’s resignation.
My silence is confirmation enough.
Cole’s eyes widen a fraction.
“Wait,” he says. “Harper Lane. Sorority President Harper. The girl you’ve been spiraling over like a Victorian poet.”
I shoot him a glare.
Cole holds up a hand. “Okay, okay—serious face.”
He steps closer, voice dropping.
“She actually said that?”
I swallow hard.
“Yes.”
Cole lets out a low whistle.
“Logan,” he mutters, “that is… insane.”
I laugh once, sharp and broken.
“No,” I say. “I’m insane.”
Cole studies me carefully.
“You didn’t know?”
I shake my head, jaw clenched.
“How could I?” I snap. “She never—”
I stop.
Because that’s not true.
She was there.
Always there.
I was the one who didn’t look.
Cole’s voice softens.
“Man…”
I drag a hand down my face, frustration burning behind my eyes.
“She thinks she’s not my type,” I mutter.
Cole’s brows shoot up. “What?”
“She thinks I ignored her because she’s not—” I swallow hard, the words tasting wrong. “Because she’s not what I usually go for.”
Cole stares at me like I’ve grown another head.
“Logan,” he says flatly, “you are an idiot.”
“I know.”
“No,” Cole continues, more forceful now, “you don’t understand. That girl has liked you since middle school and you’ve been out here acting like she’s a problem you can avoid.”
My chest tightens.
“I didn’t mean to,” I say, voice low.
Cole snorts. “That’s kind of the issue. You never mean to. You just… do.”
I lean back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers.
“She walked away,” I say quietly.
Cole’s gaze sharpens.
“Of course she did,” he replies. “She basically handed you her heart with both hands and you stood there looking like you got hit by a Zamboni.”
I swallow hard.
“She said she wants to be a choice,” I murmur.
Cole’s expression stills.
“That’s… fair.”
The words sit heavy between us.
I exhale slowly.
“I don’t know how to be that,” I admit.
Cole looks at me for a long moment.
Then he says, very quietly, “Then learn.”
My throat tightens.
Cole jerks his chin toward the ballroom again.
“Because tomorrow night? Someone’s going to raise a paddle for her.”
My stomach twists.
“And if you’re still standing in hallways having an existential crisis,” Cole adds, “you’re going to watch it happen.”
The image flashes in my mind—Harper on a stage, smiling politely, being bid on like she’s something to win.
My hands curl into fists.
Cole claps my shoulder once, firm.
“Get it together, Shaw.”
I stare down the corridor where she disappeared.
Her confession echoes like a bruise.
Since middle school.
All that time.
All that silence.
And now the only thing I can think is—
How the hell do you make up for years of not seeing someone…
when you finally do?