Chapter 115 Chapter 114
Harper POV
Logan stops a few feet away, hands shoved into his jacket pockets like that’s the only thing keeping him from doing something reckless.
His eyes stay on me.
Not Lila.
Not the half-finished decorations.
Just me.
His voice is low.
“Harper.”
My chest tightens.
I don’t know if I want to yell at him…
or kiss him…
or pretend last night never happened.
I choose the only thing that feels safe.
Cold professionalism.
I lift my chin, forcing steadiness into my voice.
“Captain Shaw,” I say coolly. “Nice of you to join us.”
His jaw flexes.
Lila makes a soft sound beside me like she’s watching a tennis match and I’m about to serve.
Logan’s gaze flickers briefly to her.
Then back.
“I’m here,” he says simply.
I let out a humorless laugh.
“An hour late.”
His eyes sharpen.
“I had practice.”
“Oh,” I say, voice dripping. “Of course. Because the rest of us are just doing arts and crafts for fun.”
Lila coughs. “Okay, this is already my favorite part of the day.”
I shoot her a look.
Logan exhales slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully.
“I came as soon as I could.”
I gesture toward the room.
“Well, congratulations. We’re only halfway to disaster.”
His mouth twitches, but it’s not amusement.
It’s tension.
“Harper…”
Something in his voice makes my stomach twist.
I don’t want softness.
Not from him.
Not when I’ve spent all morning trying not to think about what a hockey player said.
Trying not to picture Logan doing what Logan always does.
I cross my arms tightly.
“Where were you?” I ask, sharper than I mean to.
His eyes hold mine.
“Here,” he says.
“That’s not an answer.”
His jaw tightens.
“I wasn’t with anyone last night.”
The words land like a slap.
I blink.
Lila goes very, very still beside me.
My throat tightens.
“I didn’t ask,” I lie.
Logan’s gaze doesn’t waver.
“Yes, you did.”
Heat crawls up my neck.
I hate that he can read me.
I hate that he cares enough to.
I scoff lightly, forcing indifference.
“I’m sure you weren’t,” I say.
Logan’s eyes flash.
“Harper.”
“What?” I snap, the edge breaking through. “You want me to applaud you for not doing what everyone expects you to do?”
Lila makes a small sound of alarm, like she’s watching a controlled burn become a wildfire.
Logan takes a step closer, voice lower.
“I didn’t go home with anyone.”
I laugh again, bitter.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because,” he says roughly, “I heard what they said about me.”
My breath catches.
His gaze flickers briefly, like he doesn’t want to admit it.
“I heard the guys talking,” he continues. “I know what they assume.”
My chest tightens painfully.
I didn’t realize how much it would matter to hear him deny it.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted to believe him.
But belief feels dangerous.
I shake my head.
“This isn’t about last night,” I say quickly.
Logan’s voice is quiet.
“It is.”
I look away.
My fingers dig into my arms.
“I have work to do,” I mutter.
Logan’s voice sharpens.
“Stop running.”
That snaps my head back.
“I’m not running.”
His eyes flash, but his voice lowers, like he hates how honest this is.
“Yes, you are,” he says, frustration bleeding through. “You left that morning. You woke up and you were gone before I could even—”
He stops, jaw tight.
My throat tightens.
“That was one time,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says immediately, softer. “I know it was.”
His shoulders rise with a breath.
“But it felt like proof,” he admits. “Like you were already halfway out the door.”
I stare at him, anger sparking.
“And what about you?” I shoot back. “You’ve been halfway out the door for years.”
That lands.
Logan goes still.
I step closer, voice trembling now.
“You don’t get to call me a runner when you’re the one who disappears every time it gets real.”
His jaw flexes hard.
“I know,” he says, rough.
For a second, his mask cracks.
“That’s what I do,” he admits quietly. “I run first. I shut down first. I make it impossible before anyone else can.”
The air hums.
He looks at me like it hurts.
“So don’t,” I whisper.
His eyes darken.
“I’m trying not to.”
Lila shifts awkwardly, suddenly aware she’s standing in the middle of something private.
She clears her throat dramatically.
“Okay,” she announces. “I am going to go… supervise the centerpiece situation before I witness an emotional homicide.”
Neither of us looks at her.
She backs away anyway.
“Try not to combust,” she mutters as she leaves. “Or do. Honestly, either way, this is great.”
And then she’s gone.
It’s just me and Logan.
And the air feels too thick.
Logan takes a slow breath.
“I wasn’t with anyone,” he repeats, softer now. “I didn’t want anyone.”
My chest aches.
I swallow hard.
“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself.
His eyes flicker.
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you walking away.”
The words hit like a bruise.
I stare at him.
“You don’t get to—”
“I know,” he cuts in quickly. “I know I don’t get to demand anything from you.”
He steps closer, stopping just short of touching.
“But Harper… I meant what I said.”
My pulse is loud.
“What did you say?” I whisper.
His voice drops.
“That you’re in my head.”
My breath catches.
“And that scares the hell out of me,” he admits.
I laugh shakily.
“Join the club.”
His mouth twitches, but it’s pained.
“I’m trying,” he says.
I stare at him, heart too full and too tired.
“I don’t want trying, Logan,” I whisper.
His brow furrows.
“What do you want?”
The question is so simple it feels impossible.
I swallow hard.
“I want to be a choice,” I say quietly. “Not a moment. Not a mistake. Not a distraction before the pros.”
Logan’s face shifts.
Something raw crosses it.
“You are,” he says immediately. “You’re a choice.”
I shake my head.
“You don’t know how to choose.”
Silence.
His hands flex at his sides.
Then, quietly, like it costs him everything:
“Tell me what to do.”
The words knock the breath out of me.
Logan Shaw doesn’t ask.
He takes.
He avoids.
He disappears.
But he’s standing here, in the middle of chaos, looking at me like I’m the only thing that makes sense.
I don’t trust it.
And God help me…
I want to.
My voice comes out small.
“Show up.”
His eyes lock onto mine.
“I am.”
I shake my head, tears threatening.
“No,” I whisper. “Not for a hallway. Not for jealousy. Not because someone might bid on me.”
My throat tightens.
“Show up when it’s daylight.”
Logan goes still.
Like that might be the hardest thing I’ve ever asked.
Then he nods once.
Slow.
Serious.
“I will.”
My heart twists.
Tomorrow night, the room will be full.
The paddles will rise.
The bids will climb.
And Logan Shaw is standing in front of me like he’s finally realizing—
This isn’t about an auction.
It’s about whether he’s brave enough to choose me out loud.“I’m trying not to.”