Meet Me Outside

Meet Me Outside
Chapter 140 

Jett’s POV

My jaw ticked as my eyes raked over Logan. 

It was his audacity that kept throwing me off and making the whole thing so much worse.

I tore my gaze away from him, focusing all of my attention on the food in front of me and shutting him out completely. 

“Come on, Jett.” I saw him shift closer out of the corner of my eye, and I was ready to pounce on him if his legs grazed mine. “Don’t do me like this. Did I do something wrong? Or perhaps was it something I said?” 

“Go away, Logan.” I bit out the words, and I could’ve sworn the guy sitting next to me gave me a side eye. 

“At least would you just talk to me? Don’t you think it would be better if we talked whatever this is out? Or are you just gonna keep ignoring me?” 

I felt my temples pulsing with annoyance. And then, my head snapped toward him. 

“You lied to me, Logan.” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him. “That’s what happened, okay? You lied about your family and your love for hockey.” His eyes widened just slightly, the reaction small enough to miss if you weren’t paying attention. 

“You didn’t tell me anything about an influential person backing you up or anything. That’s the only reason you’re here right now, isn’t it? No love. No passion,” I spat out, attracting a few confused stares and causing him to flinch slightly.

"Jett, I—”

"Oh, don’t give me those fucking, stupid excuses.” I waved him off, speaking over him. “I know everything already. You can’t lie to me anymore.” My eyes narrowed into thinner slits. 

“And just so you know, I despise liars. So very much.” I let my gaze drift over him, not minding if he looked hurt by my words or not. Who knows? He could be faking that too. “And that’s why I left you at the bar. That’s why I benched you this morning. That’s why I’m doing my best to ignore you and make sure we don’t cross paths even though we’re training together. Because I can’t associate with a liar.” 

Logan stared at me for a few seconds after I finished, his mouth opening slightly before closing again. 

For once, he didn’t have some sarcastic comment ready. The silence stretched painfully between us. 

Around us, the room buzzed quietly with movement, but it felt distant. Muted. “You really—you really think that’s all this is, don’t you?” he asked eventually, voice quieter now.

I scoffed. “What else am I supposed to think?”

His jaw tightened before his face fell into a small frown. “I didn’t lie about everything.”

A humorless laugh escaped me. “And that’s supposed to make it better?”

“No.” His throat bobbed with a hard swallow before he dragged a frustrated hand through his hair. “No, it’s not.”

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, waiting. Waiting for him to speak while my food sat in front of me forgotten. He then glanced away briefly, almost like he couldn’t stand looking at me while saying it.

“My uncle helped me get noticed,” he admitted quietly. “Okay? Happy now?”

I didn’t reply. 

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t work for this.”

My jaw ticked immediately. “That’s exactly what it means.”

His head snapped back toward me.

“No, it doesn’t,” he shot back, louder this time—though it was more of a hiss than a yell. “Do you think I wanted that? Do you think I wanted people looking at me and assuming I didn’t deserve to be here?”

I felt my jaw clench. My gaze flicked over him. “Then why lie?”

The anger drained from his face so suddenly it almost caught me off guard. “Because,” he said after a long pause, “the second people hear stuff like that, they stop seeing you as a teammate.”

His laugh sounded bitter this time. “You become the rich kid who got handed everything.”

I stayed quiet as his shoulders sagged slightly.

“And I needed this, Jett.” His voice dropped softer now, sounding a lot more honest. But I warned myself against getting deceived again. Logan carried on anyway, “I needed one place where people looked at me normally.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in my chest at that. And now that he mentioned it, he looked kind of exhausted. Well, not physically. Emotionally.

“I know it was stupid,” he continued. “But hockey’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at and actually enjoy playing. The only thing people seem to notice me for.” 

He let out a shaky breath before glancing at me again. “And when I saw you on the ice earlier and found out you were our captain…” A faint, embarrassed laugh left him. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see if we could be friends. You know, I didn’t want you looking at me differently too. I didn’t want my captain seeing me that same way.” 

He paused before adding finally, “I guess I just needed a friend and didn’t want to look like a loser.”

That hit harder than I wanted it to.

Because suddenly, he didn’t sound like a manipulative liar.

He sounded… lonely.

And… as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew what being lonely felt like. 

I pressed my lips into a thin line, turning back to my now-cold food. I guess I also didn’t want to look at him while saying this. “Well…” I paused, pushing my food around my plate, before looking up and meeting a few curious eyes. 

Great. Literally the whole team was listening in on our conversation. 

On seeing my gaze, a few of them looked away, pretending they weren’t listening. And even if I hadn’t caught them, I would’ve still known. They were terrible at pretending. 

A sigh slipped out of me before I continued. “I’m going to give you one last chance to make up for all of this.” I kept toying with my food for another moment before raising my head to meet Logan's eyes, which were shimmering with hope. 

“But on one condition.” 

A smirk tugged at his lips, and I knew that sarcastic side of him was back. “Let’s hear it, big man.” 

I held back my smile, fighting the urge to shake my head. “That you’d be my eyes and ears in this place,” I told him. 

“That’s… surprising.” He eyed me with suspicion. “I actually expected something more…challenging, you know.” Then he leaned closer, a teasing grin on his face. “Why exactly do you want that? Are you looking for something in particular or—"

Logan stopped abruptly, his gaze shifting to something beside me, and I turned on instinct only to see a man, who was probably in his early forties, walking into the dining area. And almost immediately, every conversation died down. 

The man was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in an all-black track suit with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. I suppose this was the guy they were talking about in the text. 

His gaze swept across the room once before he reached the center of the massive hall.

“Well,” he said dryly, “you all look less disappointing than I expected.”

A few confused chuckles broke out around the room.

I leaned back slightly against the chair, a brow lifted, while Logan quietly shifted beside me. The man tossed his bag onto one of the empty chairs before clasping his hands together.

“Name’s Coach Becker,” he introduced. “And unfortunately for you lot, I’ll be supervising your training for the next month until the games begin.”

A few groans instantly echoed through the room.

The coach smirked faintly. “Oh good. You already hate me. Saves us time.”

That earned him a few reluctant laughs.

“But let’s make one thing clear now,” he continued, the humor fading from his expression. “I don’t care about reputations, statistics, or whatever league you played in before this. Out there—" He pointed toward the door, even though we all knew he was referring to the rink. "You prove yourselves or you don’t play. Simple.”

The room went quiet immediately. Even the guys who'd been whispering moments ago straightened slightly.

Coach Becker’s eyes slowly moved across the room before stopping on me, and I found myself stiffening even before I heard my name.

“Jett Travolta.”

A frown tugged at my lips. 

“Meet me outside. Now.”

Several heads immediately turned toward me, curiosity flashing across their faces. And beside me, Logan muttered under his breath, “Well… that sounds terrifying.”