Chapter 13 His Sweet side
Ava’s POV
I didn’t know where we were going, and honestly, I didn’t care. After spending the afternoon trapped under my siblings’ judgmental gazes, anything was better than staying in Logan’s apartment, drowning in my thoughts. So when he drove us across town and pulled into a parking lot, I was too lost in my own head to even notice where we were—until I saw the glowing neon sign above the entrance.
Westbridge Bowling Alley.
I turned to Logan, raising an eyebrow. “Bowling?”
He smirked, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Yeah, nerd, bowling. You ever been?”
I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Of course I have.”
That was a lie. I had seen people bowl, sure, but actually playing? Not so much.
Logan’s smirk widened like he saw right through me. “Right… let’s go then.”
I followed him inside, the sound of rolling balls and crashing pins filling the air. The place was buzzing with energy—families, couples, and groups of friends laughing and cheering. The neon lights reflected off the polished lanes, giving everything a warm glow.
Logan led us to the counter and got us a lane, exchanging a few words with the employee like he’d been here a thousand times before. He handed me a pair of bowling shoes, grinning. “Better put these on, nerd. Can’t have you slipping and embarrassing yourself.”
I rolled my eyes but took them anyway. Once we were set up, Logan grabbed a bowling ball like it was second nature and turned to me. “Alright, I’ll go first. Watch and learn.”
He stepped onto the lane, lined up his shot, and rolled the ball with effortless precision. It curved slightly before smashing into the pins, knocking all of them down in one go.
A perfect strike.
I blinked. “You’ve done this before.”
He turned to me, smug. “What gave it away?”
I sighed, walking up to the rack of bowling balls. I picked one up, only to nearly drop it from the unexpected weight. Logan stifled a laugh, crossing his arms. “Maybe try a lighter one?”
Ignoring his amusement, I switched to a different ball and stepped onto the lane. I lined up my shot, mimicking the way Logan had positioned himself, and rolled the ball down the lane.
It veered to the side, wobbling before barely clipping a few pins. I winced as the remaining ones stood there, completely untouched.
Logan let out a low whistle. “Wow, impressive. I think you might be the worst bowler I’ve ever seen.”
I turned to glare at him. “Thanks for the support.”
He chuckled, stepping behind me. “Here, let me help.”
Before I could protest, Logan placed his hands on my arms, adjusting my stance. My entire body tensed at the unexpected closeness. His voice was low when he spoke. “Relax your shoulders… bend your knees a little… and when you throw, aim for the middle, not the sides.”
I swallowed, nodding, though I wasn’t sure I had actually processed a single word he said. His hands lingered for a second longer before he finally stepped back.
I took a breath, focused, and rolled the ball again. It went straighter this time, knocking down more pins than before. It wasn’t a strike, but it was definitely an improvement.
I turned to Logan, a small smile forming. “Not bad, right?”
He nodded, amused. “Not completely terrible.”
We kept playing, and even though I wasn’t the best, I found myself enjoying it more than I expected. Logan didn’t tease me as much as I thought he would—well, not too much. Whenever I got frustrated, he helped me adjust my grip or gave me tips. And when I finally managed to get a strike, he threw his hands up in mock defeat.
“Alright, alright, I’ll admit it,” he said, smirking. “You’re slightly less terrible now.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped. “High praise coming from you.”
By the time we finished our game—Logan winning, obviously—we wandered into the arcade section of the bowling alley. The flashing lights and the sound of game machines filled the air.
Logan glanced around, then nudged me. “Ever played air hockey?”
I shrugged. “A few times.”
“Perfect. Let’s see if you’re any better at that than bowling.”
We played a few rounds, and to my surprise, I actually beat him once.
“Beginner’s luck,” Logan grumbled, handing me a ticket from the machine.
“I think you just don’t like losing,” I teased, smirking.
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. We moved from game to game, playing basketball, racing each other in car simulators, and even trying out an old claw machine. Logan was annoyingly good at everything, but he didn’t rub it in my face as much as I expected. Instead, he seemed… relaxed.
Different from the arrogant jock I had assumed he was.
I caught myself watching him more than once, taking in the way his lips curled up slightly when he concentrated, the way his eyes lit up when he won a game, the way he nudged me playfully whenever I pouted about losing.
I was letting my guard down.
And it terrified me.
We were in front of another claw machine when Logan suddenly turned to me. “Alright, nerd, pick something.”
I looked inside, scanning the pile of stuffed animals. There was one teddy bear near the top, soft and brown with a small red bow.
“That one,” I said, pointing.
Logan cracked his knuckles dramatically. “Easy.”
I watched as he maneuvered the claw, dropping it with careful precision. The claw closed around the bear, lifted it slightly… and then dropped it.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
I tried not to laugh. “I thought you were good at everything.”
He shot me a look before trying again. After three more failed attempts, I started giggling.
“Alright, this machine is rigged,” Logan said, shaking his head.
But on the fifth try, the claw finally grabbed the bear and carried it all the way to the prize chute. Logan pulled it out and held it up in victory before turning to me.
“Here,” he said, holding it out.
I blinked, taken aback. “Wait, you got it for me?”
He smirked. “Well, yeah. Who else?”
I hesitated before reaching out and taking the bear from his hands. It was soft, warm from where he had been holding it.
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I hugged the bear to my chest, my heart doing something weird in my ribcage. “Thanks, Logan.”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t mention it, nerd.”
We left the arcade after that, walking side by side in comfortable silence. The air outside was crisp, and I found myself holding the bear a little tighter.
I had spent so much time believing Logan was just another arrogant jock. But today, I had seen something else. A different side of him.
And that was dangerous.
Because the more time I spent with Logan Carter, the harder it was to remind myself that I wasn’t supposed to get attached.