Page 34 of Let Me Love You

When he catches me watching him, he stops and raises his chin. His face is red, and his shirt is drenched in sweat. My worry piques.

“Hey, can we talk?” I call out.

He hesitates, his eyes finding the puck he shot into the net, and he grudgingly skates toward me. He ignores Logan’s smirk as he moves past him and meets me on the mats.

But the bastard doesn’t look at me as his attention drifts from the ice to the stands to his skates.

“What’s up?” he asks.

I cock my head, curious if he actually believes he’s fooling anyone. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Fine. Why?”

“Last night—”

With a sharp look, he cuts me off. “Buchanan took care of it.”

“How long have you been here?” I try again.

“Not long.”

“Dude, you’re drenched,” I point out, taking in his damp hair clinging to his forehead. “Are you okay?”

His jaw tics as he looks out at the ice, watching Depp check Tukani against the glass. Their laughter rings throughout the arena.

“Colt…”

“I’m fine.” He shoves his wet hair away from his forehead. “Just some shit I gotta figure out.”

“What kind of shit?” I demand.

“Later,” he mutters, looking at me for the first time, andfuck. I’m worried.

“Let’s start the game.” He skates back to the center line, and I follow behind.

Once we’re split into two teams, we start playing, passing the puck and darting from one edge of the rink to the other. In no time, my muscles ache from exertion when a loud crack reverberates from the opposite end of the ice.

What the fuck?

Colt shoves Logan away from the board, his expression twisted with rage as he pulls off his gloves and chucks them onto the ice. Logan simply laughs. Colt cocks his arm back and decks him in the jaw. And just like that, whatever Logan thought was so funny dissipates. He charges after Colt, barreling into his gut with his shoulder and slamming them both into the glass. The same familiar crack echoes throughout the empty arena, and I rush toward them.

“What’s going on?” I yell.

Logan lands a punch to Colt’s chin, and his head swings to the side. Colt reciprocates, his knuckles skating across Logan’s cheekbone.

Depp, Tukani, and I break them apart while Austin stands uselessly at the edge of the chaos. Once there’s space between them, Colt spits blood, his lip curling as Logan grins.

“What the fuck happened?” I yell at both of them.

“I simply asked if Colt saw the article yet or not,” Logan tells me, his eyes never leaving Colt.

Colt sneers, jerking in Tukani’s hold. “Shut the fuck—”

“What article?” I demand.

With the back of his hand, Logan wipes the blood from beneath his nose. “The one saying he’s a daddy.”

I turn to Colt, but he only shakes his head. He shoves Tukani off him, and once he’s free, he skates toward the exit without a word. I follow after him.