Kindred Bruises Chapter. 6/6
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pairings: John Logan x boxer!reader
genre/warnings; Sports Romance, Contemporary Romance, New Adult Romance, College Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Hockey Romance, Boxing Romance, Explicit sexual content, alcohol use, drug use/addiction, emotional trauma, abandonment trauma, family dysfunction, mental health struggles, anxiety, profanity, violence (boxing), toxic relationships, past emotional abuse, grief, family crisis, substance abuse recovery
Summary: Yn swears off hockey players, but when she meets John Logan, something ignites between them that she can't ignore—until he vanishes without explanation, triggering the very abandonment wounds she's spent years trying to bury. When a ghost from her past returns with dangerous intentions and a mysterious opponent appears in the ring, Yn must decide whether to face what's hunting her alone or let Logan back in. Some battles can't be won without the right person in your corner.
Previously...Chapter Five
The coffee shop on Main Street had always been Yn's sanctuary.
She'd discovered it her freshman year, tucked between a vintage bookstore and a dry cleaner, the kind of place that served coffee in mismatched mugs and had furniture that looked like it had been salvaged from someone's grandmother's attic. It was quiet, usually empty except for a few students hunched over laptops, and it had become her go-to spot when she needed to think or decompress after a particularly brutal training session.
Which was exactly what she needed today.
Yn pushed through the door, the bell chiming softly overhead, and immediately felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders. Her body ached in that good way that came from pushing herself to her limits—three hours in the gym this morning, working combinations until her arms felt like lead, her coach barking corrections and encouragement in equal measure. Tonight was the fight. The competition she'd been training for all semester. And she was ready.
Or at least, she'd been ready until she walked up to the counter and saw him.
Standing at the pickup station, laughing at something on his phone, looking exactly the same as he had six years ago when he'd walked out of her life without explanation. Same dark hair that fell across his forehead, same easy posture, same infuriating smile that had once made her stomach flip and now just made her want to punch something.
Her heart slammed against her ribs, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except stare at him and feel every carefully constructed wall she'd built come crashing down around her.
No. No, no, no. Not now. Not today.
She should leave. Should turn around and walk right back out that door before he saw her, before he had the chance to speak to her or smile at her or act like he hadn't completely destroyed her two years ago. But her feet wouldn't move. She was rooted to the spot, watching him like he was a ghost that might disappear if she blinked.
Their eyes met across the coffee shop, and Yn saw the exact moment recognition hit him. His smile faltered, his expression shifting to something that might have been surprise or guilt or maybe just discomfort. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, and Yn's entire body went rigid with panic.
But before he could speak, someone else appeared beside him.
A girl. Tall and athletic, with long dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, wearing workout clothes that showed off a body clearly honed by years of training. She was beautiful in that effortless way that made Yn's stomach twist with something ugly and unwelcome. The girl slid her arm around Jake's waist, leaning into him with the kind of casual intimacy that spoke of familiarity, of ownership.
Yn felt like she'd been punched in the chest.
She watched as Jake said something to the girl, his hand coming up to rest on her hip, and the girl laughed—bright and easy and completely unaware of the way Yn's world was tilting sideways. They looked good together. Happy. Like Jake had moved on completely, like Yn had been nothing more than a brief detour in his life, easily forgotten and replaced.
The girl turned then, and Yn got a good look at her face. Strong jawline, sharp cheekbones, eyes that held a competitive edge even in casual conversation. There was something familiar about her, something that nagged at the back of Yn's mind, but she couldn't place it through the fog of panic and hurt clouding her thoughts.
And then Jake leaned down and kissed the girl's temple, and Yn couldn't watch anymore.
She turned and walked out of the coffee shop, the bell chiming again as she pushed through the door. Her hands were shaking. Her chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped bands around her ribs and was slowly squeezing. She made it half a block before she had to stop, pressing her back against the brick wall of the bookstore and trying to remember how to breathe.
Six years. It had been six years since he'd left, since he'd shut her out and disappeared without explanation, leaving her to pick up the pieces of herself alone. Six years since she'd sworn she'd never let anyone make her feel that way again. And now he was here, in her town, with his new girlfriend, looking happy and whole and completely unaffected by the damage he'd left behind.
Yn squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She would not cry. She would not let Jake have that power over her. She'd moved on. She was stronger now. She didn't need him or his explanations or his apologies.
But God, seeing him hurt more than she'd expected.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out with trembling hands, seeing Hannah's name on the screen.
Hannah: Where are you? Allie and I are at the apartment. We brought lunch.
Yn stared at the message, trying to decide if she could face them right now. Hannah and Allie would take one look at her and know something was wrong. They always knew. And she didn't want to talk about Jake, didn't want to give him any more space in her head than he'd already taken.
But she also didn't want to be alone right now.
She pushed off the wall and started walking, keeping her head down and her pace quick. The campus was busy with students enjoying the unseasonably warm November afternoon, but Yn barely registered them. Her mind was spinning, replaying the scene in the coffee shop over and over, analyzing every detail like she could somehow make sense of it if she just thought about it hard enough.
Jake was back. With a new girlfriend. And Yn had a fight tonight.
The universe had a sick sense of humor.
Hannah and Allie were sprawled on the couch when Yn walked into the apartment, takeout containers spread across the coffee table. They looked up when she entered, their expressions immediately shifting from relaxed to concerned.
"Hey," Hannah said carefully. "You okay? You look—"
"I saw Jake," Yn said flatly, dropping her gym bag by the door.
Allie sat up straight, her eyes widening. "What? Where?"
"Coffee shop on Main," Yn said. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, needing something to do with her hands. "He was there with his new girlfriend. They looked very cozy."
"Oh, honey," Hannah said, standing up. "Are you—"
"I'm fine," Yn cut her off. "It's fine. I don't care. He can date whoever he wants. It's been six years."
But her voice cracked on the last word, betraying her.
Hannah and Allie exchanged a look. Then Hannah crossed the room and pulled Yn into a hug, and Yn let herself be held for a moment, her forehead resting against Hannah's shoulder.
"It's okay to not be fine," Hannah said softly. "You don't have to pretend with us."
Yn pulled back, shaking her head. "I don't have time to not be fine. I have a fight in six hours. I need to focus."
"I'm serious," Yn said. "I've been training for this for months. I'm not going to let Jake fuck it up by showing up out of nowhere. He doesn't get to have that power over me."
She said it with conviction, but even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren't entirely true. Jake already had power over her. Just seeing him had sent her spiraling, had brought back all the feelings of abandonment and inadequacy she'd spent six years trying to bury.
Hannah was watching her with that expression she got when she was trying to decide whether to push or let it go. Finally, she sighed. "Okay. But you know we're here if you need to talk, right? About Jake or Logan or anything."
The mention of Logan sent a fresh wave of pain through Yn's chest. She'd been trying not to think about him, trying not to acknowledge the hollow ache that had taken up permanent residence in her ribs since their fight three weeks ago. Three weeks of silence. Three weeks of seeing him across campus and pretending she didn't notice. Three weeks of lying awake at night and wondering if she'd made the right choice.
"I know," Yn said quietly. "Thank you."
She grabbed a container of pad thai from the coffee table and sat down on the floor, her back against the couch. Hannah and Allie settled back into their spots, and for a few minutes, they ate in companionable silence.
Then Allie's phone buzzed. She picked it up, glanced at the screen, and her expression changed.
Allie was staring at her phone, her face pale. "Yn... did you know who Jake's girlfriend is?"
Something cold settled in Yn's stomach. "No. Why?"
"Her name is Haliana Reeves," Allie said slowly. "She's a boxer. And according to this text from Dean..." She looked up, her eyes wide. "She's your opponent tonight."
The container of pad thai slipped from Yn's hands, noodles spilling across her lap.
"What?" The word came out as barely a whisper.
Hannah grabbed Allie's phone, reading the message. Her face went white. "Oh my God. Yn, this has to be a coincidence. There's no way—"
"It's not a coincidence," Yn said. Her voice sounded distant, like it was coming from somewhere outside her body. "Jake knew. He had to have known."
The pieces were falling into place now, each one more damning than the last. Jake showing up in town the day of her fight. His new girlfriend just happening to be a boxer. Just happening to be Yn's opponent. The way he'd looked at her in the coffee shop—not surprised, but almost expectant, like he'd been waiting for her to show up.
This was deliberate. This was a setup.
"That fucking asshole," Allie said, her voice shaking with anger. "He brought her here to mess with you. To get in your head before the fight."
Yn couldn't speak. She was too busy trying to process what this meant, trying to figure out how to handle it. Because Allie was right—this was psychological warfare. Jake knew her well enough to know that seeing him would throw her off balance. And now she had to step into a ring with his girlfriend, had to fight someone who represented everything Jake had chosen over her.
It was a mindfuck of epic proportions.
"You should pull out," Hannah said suddenly. "Yn, you should withdraw from the fight. This isn't fair. They're trying to sabotage you."
"I'm not pulling out," Yn said. Her voice was steady now, cold and hard. "That's exactly what they want. They want me to be scared, to back down, to prove that I'm not good enough."
"I'm not pulling out," Yn repeated. She stood up, brushing noodles off her lap. "I'm going to that fight, and I'm going to win. And Jake and his girlfriend can watch me do it."
She said it with more confidence than she felt. Because the truth was, she was terrified. Not of Haliana—Yn had watched enough tape to know she could beat her on a good day. But this wasn't going to be a good day. This was going to be a day where every punch felt personal, where every round was weighted with two years of unresolved hurt and anger.
And Yn didn't know if she was strong enough to handle that.
Hannah and Allie were watching her with identical expressions of worry and admiration. They knew her well enough to know that arguing would be pointless. Once Yn made up her mind about something, there was no changing it.
"Okay," Hannah said finally. "Then we're coming with you. Front row. And we're going to cheer so loud that Jake and his girlfriend won't be able to hear themselves think."
Despite everything, Yn felt a small smile tug at her lips. "Thanks."
"That's what best friends are for," Allie said. "Moral support and strategic heckling."
Yn's phone buzzed then, and she pulled it out to see a text from her coach.
Coach Martinez: Heard about your opponent. You good?
Of course he'd heard. News traveled fast in the boxing community, especially when it involved drama. Yn could picture him now, sitting in his office at the gym, probably already strategizing how to handle this situation.
Yn: I'm good. See you at 5 for warm-up.
Coach Martinez: We'll talk strategy. Don't let this get in your head.
Too late for that, Yn thought. But she wasn't going to tell him that.
She looked up to find Hannah and Allie watching her expectantly. "I need to go lie down for a bit," she said. "Clear my head before tonight."
"Do you want company?" Hannah asked.
"No," Yn said. "I just... I need to be alone for a little while."
They nodded, understanding. Yn grabbed her gym bag and headed to her room, closing the door behind her. She dropped the bag on the floor and collapsed onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Her mind was racing, jumping from thought to thought without landing on anything solid. Jake. Haliana. The fight. Logan. Everything was tangled together, a mess of emotions she didn't know how to untangle.
She thought about the last time she'd seen Logan, three weeks ago in that parking lot outside his family's shop. The way he'd looked at her, desperate and sorry and broken. The way she'd walked away, refusing to give him grace, refusing to let him explain.
She'd been so sure she was right. So sure that protecting herself was more important than giving him a chance. But now, lying here alone with Jake's ghost haunting her thoughts, she wondered if she'd made a mistake.
Because the thing about walls was that they kept people out, but they also kept you in. Trapped with your own pain, your own fear, your own inability to trust.
And Yn was so tired of being trapped.
Her phone buzzed again. She almost didn't look, assuming it was Hannah or Allie checking on her. But when she glanced at the screen, her heart stopped.
Logan: I heard about tonight. About Jake and your opponent. I'm sorry.
Yn stared at the message, her chest tight. He'd heard. Of course he'd heard. The hockey team and the boxing team ran in overlapping circles, and gossip spread like wildfire.
She started typing a response, then deleted it. Started again, deleted again. What was she supposed to say? Thanks for caring even though I pushed you away? I miss you but I'm too stubborn to admit it? I'm scared and I wish you were here?
In the end, she didn't respond at all. She just turned her phone face-down on the nightstand and closed her eyes, trying to quiet the storm in her head.
She had a fight to win. Everything else would have to wait.
By four o'clock, Yn was pacing her room like a caged animal.
She'd tried to rest, tried to meditate, tried to do all the pre-fight rituals that usually helped her focus. But nothing was working. Her mind kept circling back to Jake, to Haliana, to the fact that in a few hours she'd be stepping into a ring with someone who represented everything she'd been trying to forget.
There was a knock on her door. "Yn?" Hannah's voice. "It's time to go."
Yn took a deep breath, grabbed her gym bag, and opened the door. Hannah and Allie were waiting in the hallway, both dressed in Briar U colors—Hannah in a navy blue hoodie, Allie in a white t-shirt with the university logo.
"As I'll ever be," Yn said.
The drive to Riverside Boxing Arena took twenty minutes. Hannah drove while Allie sat in the passenger seat, both of them keeping up a steady stream of chatter that Yn appreciated even though she couldn't really focus on what they were saying. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets of their college town blur past, trying to get her head in the right space.
Focus on the fight. Focus on your training. Don't think about Jake. Don't think about Logan. Just focus on winning.
But it was easier said than done.
When they pulled into the arena parking lot, Yn's stomach dropped. The place was packed—way more crowded than she'd expected for a college-level competition. Cars filled every available space, and she could see people streaming toward the entrance, hear the buzz of excited conversation.
"Wow," Hannah said, echoing Yn's thoughts. "This is... a lot."
"Word must have gotten out," Allie said. "About you and Haliana. About Jake."
Great. So not only did Yn have to fight Jake's girlfriend, she had to do it in front of what looked like half the campus. Perfect.
They found a parking spot near the back of the lot and made their way toward the entrance. Yn kept her head down, her hood pulled up, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. She could feel people staring, could hear whispers as she passed. Everyone knew. Everyone was here to watch the drama unfold.
Inside, the arena was even more overwhelming. The main space was set up with a regulation boxing ring in the center, surrounded by rows of bleachers that were already filling up. The air smelled like sweat and adrenaline and anticipation. Yn had fought here before, but never with this many people watching.
"I'm going to find Coach," Yn said to Hannah and Allie. "You guys should get seats."
"Front row," Hannah said firmly. "We'll be right there where you can see us."
Yn nodded, grateful for their presence even if she couldn't quite express it. She made her way through the crowd toward the locker rooms, her gym bag slung over her shoulder.
Coach Martinez was waiting for her in the hallway outside the women's locker room. He was a short, stocky man in his fifties with graying hair and the kind of weathered face that came from decades in the ring. He'd been coaching Yn since her freshman year, and he knew her well enough to read her mood instantly.
"You look like shit," he said bluntly.
"Thanks, Coach," Yn said dryly.
"I'm serious. You're in your head. I can see it from here." He crossed his arms, studying her. "Talk to me. What's going on?"
Yn glanced around, making sure no one was listening. "Did you know? About Jake and Haliana?"
Coach Martinez's expression darkened. "Not until this morning. If I'd known earlier, I would have warned you. Given you time to prepare."
"Would it have made a difference?" Yn asked.
"Probably not," he admitted. "But at least you wouldn't have been blindsided." He put a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm. "Listen to me. I know this is fucked up. I know they're trying to get in your head. But you're better than her, Yn. On your worst day, you're still better than Haliana Reeves on her best day."
"You've seen her fight?" Yn asked.
"I've watched tape. She's good—strong, aggressive, decent footwork. But she's predictable. She relies too much on power, not enough on strategy. And she has a tell—she drops her right shoulder before she throws a hook. You can use that."
Yn nodded, filing the information away. This was good. This was something concrete she could focus on, something that had nothing to do with Jake or emotions or the past.
"What's my strategy?" she asked.
"Stay mobile. Don't let her corner you. She's going to try to brawl, to make this ugly. Don't let her. Keep your distance, work the jab, wait for her to make mistakes. And when she drops that shoulder, you counter. Hard."
Coach Martinez studied her for another moment. "You sure you're good to do this? Because if you're not, we can pull you. No shame in it."
"I'm good," Yn said. And this time, she meant it. Because standing here, talking strategy with her coach, she felt some of the panic start to recede. This was just another fight. Just another opponent. She'd trained for this. She was ready.
"Alright," Coach Martinez said. "Go get changed. I'll meet you in the warm-up area in fifteen."
Yn nodded and pushed through the door into the locker room. It was empty except for one other fighter, a girl Yn recognized from another school. They exchanged nods but didn't speak—pre-fight courtesy.
Yn found an empty locker and started unpacking her bag. Hand wraps, mouthguard, water bottle, her lucky sports bra that she'd worn for every fight since freshman year. She changed methodically, each movement part of a ritual that helped her focus.
As she wrapped her hands, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her—dark eyes, set jaw, the kind of expression that had intimidated opponents since she'd started boxing at fifteen. She looked ready. She looked dangerous.
She looked like someone who could win.
You've got this, she told herself. Jake doesn't matter. Haliana doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is the fight.
But even as she thought it, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered: Logan matters.
Yn shoved the thought away and finished wrapping her hands.
Garrett Graham was having a good day.
Practice had gone well—the team was finally clicking, their plays sharp and coordinated in a way that boded well for the upcoming playoffs. He'd aced his economics midterm that morning. And Hannah had texted him earlier to say she'd be free for dinner after Yn's fight tonight, which meant he'd get to see her before she disappeared into her usual post-competition routine of analyzing every detail with Yn and Allie.
Right up until Dean burst into the locker room looking like someone had died.
"We have a problem," Dean said, his voice tight.
Garrett looked up from tying his skates. "What kind of problem?"
"The Yn kind," Dean said. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through something. "Allie just texted me. Apparently Jake is back in town."
The locker room went quiet. Every guy on the team knew about Jake—Hannah had told Garrett, who'd told the team during one of their late-night bonding sessions. They knew what he'd done to Yn, how he'd fucked her up, how she still carried that damage.
"Shit," Tucker said from across the room. "Does Yn know?"
"She saw him this morning," Dean said. "At a coffee shop. With his new girlfriend."
"Double shit," Fitzy muttered.
Garrett felt his jaw clench. He'd never met Jake, but he'd heard enough to know the guy was a piece of work. And the thought of him showing up now, right before Yn's big fight, made Garrett want to punch something.
"There's more," Dean said, and his expression was grim. "Jake's girlfriend? Her name is Haliana Reeves. She's a boxer."
"Okay..." Garrett said slowly, not seeing the connection yet.
"She's Yn's opponent tonight."
The locker room exploded.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tucker was on his feet, his face red. "That's—that's psychological warfare. That's fucked up."
"Does Yn know?" Garrett asked.
"She knows now," Dean said. "Allie told her a couple hours ago after I said something about Haliana. She's still planning to fight."
"Of course she is," Simms said. "Yn doesn't back down from anything."
"She should back down from this," Garrett said. He was already pulling out his phone, pulling up Hannah's contact. "This is bullshit. They're trying to sabotage her."
"Hannah says Yn won't withdraw," Dean said. "She's determined to go through with it."
Garrett swore under his breath. That sounded exactly like Yn—stubborn and proud and unwilling to show weakness even when she was clearly being set up to fail. It was one of the things he admired about her, but right now it was also infuriating.
"We should go," Tucker said. "To the fight. Show support."
"Agreed," Fitzy said. Several other guys nodded.
Garrett was already texting Hannah. When is it?
Hannah: 7pm at Riverside Arena. You're coming?
Garrett: Whole team is coming.
Hannah: Good. She needs all the support she can get right now.
Garrett looked up at the team. "Fight's at seven. We're going."
"What about Logan?" Simms asked.
The question hung in the air, heavy and complicated. Everyone knew about Logan and Yn—about their brief, intense relationship and the spectacular way it had imploded three weeks ago. Logan had been a mess since then, quieter than usual, distracted during practice, clearly hurting even though he tried to hide it.
"Does he know?" Garrett asked Dean.
"I don't think so," Dean said. "Allie didn't mention him."
"Someone needs to tell him," Tucker said. "He'd want to know."
"Would he?" Fitzy asked. "I mean, they're not together anymore. And Yn made it pretty clear she didn't want anything to do with him."
"That doesn't mean he stopped caring," Garrett said quietly. Because he'd seen Logan these past few weeks, had watched his best friend try to pretend he was fine while clearly falling apart. Logan was in love with Yn, even if he hadn't said it out loud. And if something happened to her tonight—if she got hurt, if Jake and his girlfriend succeeded in breaking her—Logan would never forgive himself for not being there.
"I'll tell him," Garrett said. "You guys finish up here. We'll meet at the arena at 6:45."
He grabbed his phone and headed out of the locker room, already pulling up Logan's contact. This conversation needed to happen in person.
Logan was in the hockey house when Garrett arrived, sprawled on the couch with his laptop open and what looked like a half-finished essay on the screen. He looked up when Garrett walked in, surprise flickering across his face.
"Hey," Logan said. "What's up? I thought you had practice."
"We finished early," Garrett said. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, trying to figure out how to start this conversation. "We need to talk."
Logan's expression shifted to concern. "Is everything okay? Is Hannah—"
"Hannah's fine," Garrett said quickly. "This isn't about Hannah. It's about Yn."
Logan went very still. "What about Yn?"
"She has a fight tonight," Garrett said. "At Riverside Arena. Seven o'clock."
"I know," Logan said quietly. "I saw it on the schedule."
Of course he had. Garrett should have known Logan would be keeping track, even if he and Yn weren't speaking.
"Did you know who her opponent is?" Garrett asked.
Logan frowned. "Some girl from State, I think. Why?"
"Her name is Haliana Reeves," Garrett said. "And she's dating Yn's ex. Jake."
He watched the information hit Logan, saw the exact moment understanding dawned. Logan's face went pale, his hands clenching into fists.
"What?" The word came out rough, disbelieving.
"Jake showed up in town this morning," Garrett said. "Yn saw him at a coffee shop with Haliana. And now Yn has to fight her tonight. In front of everyone."
"That's—" Logan stood up, running a hand through his hair. "That's fucked up. That's deliberate."
"Yeah," Garrett agreed. "It is."
Logan was pacing now, his movements agitated. "Is she okay? Has anyone talked to her?"
"Hannah and Allie are with her. They're going to the fight."
"Good. That's—that's good." Logan stopped pacing, his back to Garrett. "She shouldn't be alone for this."
"The team's going too," Garrett said. "We're all going to support her."
Logan didn't respond. He just stood there, his shoulders tense, his head bowed.
"You should come," Garrett said quietly.
"She doesn't want me there," Logan said. His voice was flat, defeated. "She made that pretty clear."
"Maybe," Garrett said. "Or maybe she needs you there and she's just too stubborn to admit it."
Logan turned around, and Garrett was struck by how exhausted he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his face was drawn, and he looked like he'd lost weight. The past three weeks had clearly been hell for him.
"I fucked up, G," Logan said. "I shut her out when I should have let her in. I made her feel exactly the way her ex made her feel. And now she's dealing with this—with Jake and his girlfriend and this whole mindfuck of a situation—and it's my fault she has to deal with it alone."
"It's not your fault," Garrett said firmly. "Jake is the one who set this up. Jake is the one who's trying to mess with her head. You made a mistake, yeah, but that doesn't mean you don't get to be there for her now."
"She won't want me there," Logan repeated.
"You don't know that," Garrett said. "And even if she doesn't, even if she's pissed that you showed up—at least you'll be there. At least she'll know you care enough to show up."
Logan was quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with himself. Garrett could see the war playing out on his face—the desire to be there for Yn battling against the fear of making things worse, of overstepping, of being rejected again.
"What if I make it worse?" Logan asked finally. "What if seeing me throws her off, distracts her, and she gets hurt because of it?"
"Or," Garrett said, "what if seeing you there, knowing you came despite everything, gives her the strength she needs to win?"
Logan looked at him, something desperate and hopeful flickering in his eyes. "You really think that?"
"I think Yn is in love with you," Garrett said bluntly. "I think she's been miserable these past three weeks, just like you have. I think she pushed you away because she was scared, not because she didn't care. And I think if you show up tonight, if you're there in the crowd supporting her, it might be exactly what she needs."
"Or it might be the last straw," Logan said. "It might be the thing that makes her hate me forever."
"Maybe," Garrett admitted. "But isn't that a risk worth taking? Isn't she worth taking that risk?"
Logan closed his eyes, his jaw working. When he opened them again, there was a new determination in his expression.
"Yeah," he said. "She is."
"Yeah," Logan said again. "I'll come."
Garrett felt relief wash over him. "Good. We're meeting at the arena at 6:45. Don't be late."
"I won't," Logan said. He was already moving toward his bedroom, presumably to change. "Thanks, G. For telling me. For... everything."
"That's what best friends are for," Garrett said. "Now hurry up. We've got a fight to get to."
Logan stood in his bedroom, staring at his closet without really seeing it.
Yn has a fight tonight. Against Jake's girlfriend.
The words kept echoing in his head, each repetition making his chest tighter. He couldn't stop picturing it—Yn stepping into that ring, seeing Jake in the crowd, having to face someone who represented everything that had hurt her. Having to do it alone, without anyone in her corner who understood what she was going through.
You don't get to be there for her, a voice in his head whispered. You lost that right when you shut her out.
But another voice, quieter but more insistent, said: She needs you. Even if she won't admit it. Even if she hates you for showing up. She needs you.
Logan grabbed a shirt from his closet—his old gray cutoff hoodie, the one he'd worn on their first date. He pulled it on, then immediately took it off. Too much. Too obvious. He didn't want Yn to think he was trying to manipulate her emotions by wearing something meaningful.
He settled on a plain black t-shirt and jeans instead. Neutral. Unremarkable. He wasn't going to the fight to make a statement. He was going because... because he had to. Because the thought of Yn facing this alone made him feel physically ill.
As he got dressed, his mind drifted back to three weeks ago. To his family's shop, to the look on Yn's face when she'd told him they were done. He'd replayed that conversation a thousand times since then, analyzing every word, every expression, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong.
He knew the answer, of course. He'd gone wrong the moment he'd shut her out. The moment he'd decided to handle his mother's relapse alone instead of letting Yn in, instead of trusting her with his pain. He'd been trying to protect her, trying to keep his mess from contaminating what they had. But all he'd done was prove to her that he was exactly like Jake—someone who disappeared when things got hard, someone who made her feel unimportant.
And now she was paying the price for his mistake.
Logan grabbed his keys and wallet, then paused. His phone was sitting on the nightstand, and he found himself picking it up, scrolling to Yn's contact. He'd texted her earlier, after hearing about Jake. She hadn't responded. He hadn't expected her to.
But maybe he should try again. Maybe he should tell her he was coming, give her a chance to tell him not to if that's what she wanted.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard. What would he even say? I'm coming to your fight even though you hate me? I know you don't want me there but I can't stay away? I'm sorry for everything and I need you to know I still care?
In the end, he didn't send anything. Because what was the point? Words hadn't fixed things between them before. Words had just made everything worse. Maybe actions would speak louder.
Or maybe he was just a coward who couldn't face the possibility of her telling him not to come.
Logan pocketed his phone and headed out of his apartment. The drive to Riverside Arena would take about fifteen minutes, which gave him fifteen minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to say to Yn if he got the chance to talk to her.
If being the operative word. She might not want to talk to him. She might see him in the crowd and be furious that he'd shown up. She might—
His phone rang, interrupting his spiral. Tucker's name flashed on the screen.
"Yeah?" Logan answered, putting the call on speaker as he started his car.
"Where are you?" Tucker asked. "We're all meeting at the arena in twenty minutes."
"I'm leaving now," Logan said. "I'll be there."
"Good." There was a pause. "You okay, man?"
"No," Logan said honestly. "But I'm going anyway."
"That's the spirit," Tucker said dryly. "Look, I know this is complicated. I know you and Yn aren't... whatever. But she needs people there tonight. And whether she admits it or not, you're one of those people."
"Or I'm the last person she wants to see," Logan said.
"Maybe," Tucker admitted. "But you won't know unless you show up. And I think you'd regret it more if you didn't go than if you did and she told you to fuck off."
Logan couldn't argue with that logic. "Yeah. You're probably right."
"I'm always right," Tucker said. "Now get your ass to the arena. And Logan?"
"Don't overthink this. Just be there. That's all you can do."
The call ended, and Logan pulled out of his parking spot. Tucker was right—he was overthinking this. He needed to just go, just show up, just be present. Whatever happened after that was out of his control.
The drive to the arena felt both too long and too short. Logan's mind wouldn't stop spinning, jumping from thought to thought without landing anywhere useful. He thought about the first time he'd seen Yn, standing in that hockey house with fire in her eyes, tearing into a guy twice her size. He thought about their first date, the way she'd looked at him like she was trying to figure out if he was worth the risk. He thought about the night they'd slept together, the way she'd said his name—John—like it was something precious.
He thought about the way she'd looked at him in that parking lot, hurt and angry and so fucking done with him.
I deserve better than being an afterthought.
She'd been right. She did deserve better. She deserved someone who would let her in, who would trust her with the hard stuff, who would choose her even when it was difficult. And Logan had failed at all of that.
But maybe he could do better now. Maybe he could show her that he was capable of being the person she deserved, even if it was too late for them.
Logan pulled into the arena parking lot and immediately realized this was going to be a bigger deal than he'd anticipated. The lot was packed, cars filling every available space, people streaming toward the entrance in groups. He'd been to Yn's fights before—back when they were together, back when she'd wanted him there—and they'd never drawn crowds like this.
But of course this one would. Because everyone had heard about Jake and Haliana. Everyone wanted to see the drama unfold.
Logan's hands tightened on the steering wheel. The thought of Yn having to perform in front of all these people, having to fight while everyone watched and whispered and judged—it made him want to turn the car around and go find Jake and beat the shit out of him.
But that wouldn't help Yn. The only thing that would help Yn was being there, being present, being someone she could count on even if she didn't want to.
Logan found a parking spot near the back of the lot and made his way toward the entrance. He spotted the hockey team almost immediately—they were gathered near the doors, a cluster of tall guys in Briar U gear, impossible to miss. Garrett saw him first and raised a hand in greeting.
"You made it," Garrett said as Logan approached.
"Yeah," Logan said. "I made it."
Tucker clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. Now let's go watch Yn kick some ass."
They filed into the arena together, and Logan felt his anxiety ratchet up another notch. The place was loud, packed with people, the energy electric. He could see the boxing ring set up in the center, surrounded by bleachers that were already mostly full. This was real. This was happening.
And somewhere in this building, Yn was preparing to step into that ring.
"Hannah and Allie saved us seats," Garrett said, leading the way through the crowd. "Front row, right by the ring."
Of course they did. Because Hannah and Allie were good friends who knew that Yn would need to see familiar faces when she looked out at the crowd. Logan just hoped his face would be a comfort rather than a distraction.
They found Hannah and Allie near the front, and Hannah's face lit up when she saw Garrett. But when her gaze landed on Logan, her expression shifted to something more complicated—surprise, concern, and maybe a hint of approval.
"Logan," she said. "You came."
"Yeah," Logan said. "I... yeah."
Hannah studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. She needs you here, even if she doesn't know it yet."
"Or she'll be pissed that I showed up," Logan said.
"Maybe," Hannah admitted. "But I think it's a risk worth taking."
Logan sat down between Garrett and Tucker, his eyes scanning the arena. He couldn't see Yn yet—she was probably still in the locker room, warming up with her coach. But he could feel her presence, could feel the weight of what was about to happen.
"Has anyone seen Jake?" Dean asked, leaning forward to look at the group.
"Not yet," Allie said. "But he's here somewhere. Probably sitting with Haliana's corner."
Logan felt his jaw clench. The thought of Jake being here, watching Yn, probably enjoying the psychological warfare he'd orchestrated—it made Logan's blood boil. He wanted to find the guy, wanted to make him understand exactly what he'd done to Yn, wanted to make him hurt the way he'd made her hurt.
But that wasn't his place. Not anymore. Maybe it never had been.
"Fight's starting in ten minutes," Garrett said, checking his phone. "First match is some guys from State. Yn's fight is third."
Logan nodded, trying to focus on breathing. Ten minutes until the first fight. Maybe thirty minutes until Yn stepped into the ring. Thirty minutes to figure out what he was going to do if she saw him, how he was going to react, what he was going to say if she looked at him with anger or hurt or worse—indifference.
The lights dimmed slightly, and a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing the first fight. The crowd cheered, the energy in the room shifting from anticipation to excitement. Logan barely registered any of it. His entire focus was on the entrance where the fighters would emerge, waiting for the moment when Yn would walk through those doors.
Please let this be okay, he thought. Please let me being here help instead of hurt.
But he wouldn't know until she saw him. And by then, it would be too late to leave.
The warm-up area was a small room adjacent to the locker rooms, equipped with heavy bags, speed bags, and enough space for fighters to go through their pre-fight routines. Yn had been here dozens of times before, but tonight it felt different. Smaller. More claustrophobic.
Or maybe that was just her anxiety talking.
"Jab, jab, cross," Coach Martinez called out, holding the focus mitts steady. "Good. Again. Jab, jab, cross, hook."
Yn moved through the combinations mechanically, her wrapped hands connecting with the mitts in a rhythm she'd practiced thousands of times. Her body knew what to do even when her mind was elsewhere, muscle memory taking over.
Don't think about Jake. Don't think about Haliana. Don't think about Logan.
"You're pulling your punches," Coach Martinez said. "Stop thinking. Just hit."
Yn gritted her teeth and threw a harder cross, the impact reverberating up her arm. Better. She needed to be better.
"That's it," Coach Martinez said. "Channel whatever you're feeling into the punches. Anger, fear, hurt—I don't care. Use it."
Yn threw a combination—jab, jab, cross, hook, uppercut—each punch harder than the last. Her breathing was controlled, her movements sharp. This was what she was good at. This was where she had control.
"Good," Coach Martinez said, lowering the mitts. "Take a break. Hydrate."
Yn grabbed her water bottle and took a long drink, her heart pounding from exertion and adrenaline. Through the wall, she could hear the muffled sounds of the crowd, the announcer's voice introducing the first fight. It was starting. Soon it would be her turn.
"How are you feeling?" Coach Martinez asked, watching her carefully.
"Fine," Yn said automatically.
"Bullshit," he said. "Try again."
Yn set down her water bottle and met his eyes. "I'm scared," she admitted. "Not of Haliana. I can beat her. But I'm scared of... everything else. Of seeing Jake. Of everyone watching. Of fucking this up because I can't get out of my own head."
Coach Martinez nodded slowly. "That's honest. Good. Now listen to me—fear is normal. Every fighter feels it before a big match. The difference between good fighters and great fighters is what they do with that fear. Good fighters let it paralyze them. Great fighters use it as fuel."
"And which one am I?" Yn asked.
"You're great," Coach Martinez said without hesitation. "You've always been great. But tonight, you need to be better than great. You need to be ruthless. Because that girl you're fighting? She's not just trying to win. She's trying to break you. And you can't let her."
Yn nodded, feeling some of her resolve solidify. He was right. This wasn't just about winning a fight. This was about proving to Jake, to Haliana, to everyone watching that she couldn't be broken. That she was stronger than her past, stronger than her pain.
"What's my game plan?" Yn asked.
"Same as we discussed earlier," Coach Martinez said. "Stay mobile. Work the jab. Don't let her corner you. She's going to try to brawl, to make this ugly. You're going to stay technical, stay smart. And when she drops that right shoulder—"
"I counter," Yn finished. "Hard."
"Exactly." Coach Martinez put a hand on her shoulder. "You've got this, kid. I believe in you."
Yn felt a lump form in her throat. "Thanks, Coach."
"Don't thank me yet," he said with a slight smile. "Thank me after you win."
There was a knock on the door, and one of the event coordinators stuck her head in. "Yn? You're up in fifteen. They need you to start heading to the staging area."
Yn's stomach dropped. Fifteen minutes. That was all the time she had left to get her head right, to push down the fear and the doubt and the memories of Jake.
"Let's go," Coach Martinez said, grabbing her gear bag. "Time to show them what you're made of."
Yn followed him out of the warm-up area and down the hallway toward the staging area. With each step, she could hear the crowd getting louder, could feel the energy of the arena building. The second fight must have just ended, which meant hers was next.
The staging area was a small space just off the main arena floor, separated by a curtain. Yn could see through a gap in the fabric—could see the ring, the crowd, the lights. It was overwhelming and exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
Hannah and Allie, sitting front row, exactly where they'd promised they'd be. They were wearing Briar U colors, holding signs that said "GO YN" in big letters. When they spotted her peeking through the curtain, they waved enthusiastically, and Yn felt some of her anxiety ease.
She had people in her corner. She wasn't alone.
But then her gaze drifted to the people sitting next to Hannah and Allie, and her heart stopped.
The hockey team. Garrett, Dean, Tucker, Fitzy, Simms—all of them, wearing their team jackets, clearly here to support her. She felt a rush of gratitude and affection for these guys who'd become her friends over the past few months.
Sitting between Garrett and Tucker, his expression tense and worried, his eyes scanning the arena like he was looking for something. Looking for her.
Yn's breath caught in her chest. He came. Despite everything, despite the way she'd pushed him away, despite the weeks of silence—he came.
She didn't know how to feel about that. Part of her wanted to be angry, wanted to tell him he had no right to be here after what he'd done. But a bigger part of her—the part she'd been trying to ignore for three weeks—felt relief. Because seeing him there, knowing he cared enough to show up, made her feel less alone.
"Yn?" Coach Martinez's voice pulled her back to the present. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Yn said, tearing her gaze away from Logan. "I'm okay."
"Good. Because you're on in five."
Yn nodded and stepped back from the curtain. She couldn't think about Logan right now. Couldn't think about what it meant that he was here, what she was going to say to him after the fight. Right now, she needed to focus on Haliana. On winning.
Everything else could wait.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, our next bout is a women's welterweight match scheduled for three rounds. Introducing first, fighting out of the red corner, from State University, with a record of eight wins and two losses... Haliana Reeves!"
The crowd erupted in cheers and boos—apparently people had chosen sides. Yn watched through the curtain as Haliana emerged from the opposite staging area, walking toward the ring with her coach and cornermen. She was tall, probably five-ten, with a lean, muscular build. She moved with confidence, her expression focused and intense.
And behind her, walking with the kind of casual arrogance that made Yn's blood boil, was Jake.
He wasn't in Haliana's corner officially—he was just there, watching, his presence a deliberate mind game. When Haliana climbed into the ring, Jake stayed at the edge, his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the crowd.
"Don't look at him," Coach Martinez said quietly. "He doesn't exist. The only person who exists right now is Haliana. Got it?"
"Got it," Yn said, even though her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear her own voice.
"And now," the announcer continued, "fighting out of the blue corner, from Briar University, with a record of twelve wins and one loss... Yn Ln!"
Yn stepped through the curtain, and the noise hit her like a physical force. The crowd was on their feet, cheering and screaming, the sound deafening. She kept her eyes forward, focused on the ring, refusing to look at Jake or Logan or anyone else. Coach Martinez walked beside her, his presence steady and grounding.
As she approached the ring, she could hear Hannah and Allie screaming her name, could see them jumping up and down with excitement. Despite everything, Yn felt a smile tug at her lips. This was why she fought—for moments like this, for the adrenaline and the challenge and the pure, uncomplicated joy of testing herself against another fighter.
She climbed through the ropes and into the ring, and the referee called both fighters to the center. Yn came face to face with Haliana for the first time, and up close, she could see the calculation in the other girl's eyes. This wasn't just a fight for Haliana either. This was personal.
"I want a clean fight," the referee said, going through the standard pre-fight instructions. "Protect yourself at all times. Obey my commands. Touch gloves."
Yn and Haliana touched gloves, but there was no sportsmanship in the gesture. It was purely perfunctory, a formality before they tried to beat the hell out of each other.
As Yn walked back to her corner, she made the mistake of glancing at the crowd. Her eyes found Logan immediately, like they were drawn to him by some magnetic force. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his expression intense and worried.
Their eyes met across the arena, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The crowd, the noise, Haliana, Jake—none of it mattered. There was just Logan, looking at her like she was the only person in the world, like he'd walk through fire if it meant being there for her.
And Yn realized, with a clarity that was almost painful, that she'd missed him. Missed him so much it hurt. Missed his voice, his smile, the way he said her name. Missed feeling like someone understood her, like someone saw past her walls to the person underneath.
Focus, she told herself fiercely. You can deal with Logan later. Right now, you have a fight to win.
The bell rang, signaling the start of the first round.
Yn moved to the center of the ring, her gloves up, her stance balanced. Across from her, Haliana was already advancing, her movements aggressive and confident. Coach Martinez's words echoed in Yn's head: She's going to try to brawl. Don't let her.
They circled each other for a few seconds, both fighters feeling each other out. Then Haliana threw the first punch—a quick jab that Yn slipped easily. Another jab, another slip. Haliana was testing her, trying to gauge her speed and reflexes.
Yn threw a jab of her own, snapping Haliana's head back slightly. Good. She had the reach advantage, and she needed to use it.
But then Haliana closed the distance, throwing a combination—jab, cross, hook—that forced Yn to cover up and move backward. The punches were hard, powerful, exactly what Coach Martinez had warned her about. Haliana was trying to overwhelm her with aggression, to make her panic.
Yn circled away, resetting her stance. Stay mobile. Don't let her corner you.
She threw another jab, then a cross, both landing clean. Haliana's head snapped back, and Yn saw a flash of frustration in her eyes. Good. Frustration led to mistakes.
They traded punches for the next minute, neither fighter gaining a clear advantage. Yn was faster, more technical, but Haliana was stronger, her punches carrying more power. Every time one of Haliana's hooks connected, Yn felt it in her bones.
And then, out of the corner of her eye, Yn saw Logan.
He was on his feet now, his hands gripping the fence that separated the crowd from the ring, his face tight with worry. She could see his lips moving, could tell he was saying something, but she couldn't hear him over the noise of the crowd.
The distraction lasted less than a second, but it was enough.
Haliana's right hook came out of nowhere, connecting with the left side of Yn's face with brutal force. Yn's head snapped to the side, pain exploding across her cheekbone and jaw. She stumbled backward, her vision blurring, her ears ringing.
Yn's back hit the ropes, and she barely got her gloves up in time to block Haliana's follow-up combination. The punches came fast and hard—body shots, head shots, each one designed to break her down. Yn covered up, protecting her head, trying to weather the storm.
She pushed off the ropes and circled away, creating distance. Her face was throbbing, and she could already feel the swelling starting. That hook had been vicious, perfectly placed. Haliana had been waiting for her to get distracted, and Yn had given her exactly what she wanted.
Stupid. So fucking stupid.
The bell rang, ending the first round. Yn walked back to her corner on shaky legs, her head still spinning. Coach Martinez was already there, his expression grim.
"Sit," he ordered, and Yn collapsed onto the stool. He pressed an ice pack against her face, and Yn hissed at the cold.
"That was a hell of a hook," Coach Martinez said. "How's your vision?"
"Fine," Yn said, even though everything was still a little blurry around the edges.
"Bullshit. Look at me." He held up two fingers. "How many?"
"Good. Now listen to me—you got distracted. I saw it. You looked at the crowd, and she caught you. That can't happen again. You understand?"
"I don't care if the building is on fire," Coach Martinez said. "You keep your eyes on her. Nothing else matters. Not Jake, not Logan, not anyone. Just her."
Yn nodded, taking a sip of water. Her face hurt like hell, and she could taste blood in her mouth from where she'd bitten her cheek. But the pain was clarifying, sharpening her focus. She'd made a mistake, and it had cost her. She wouldn't make it again.
"She's getting cocky," Coach Martinez said. "She thinks she's got you rattled. Use that. Let her think she's winning, then counter when she overcommits. Remember—she drops her right shoulder before the hook. Watch for it."
The ten-second warning sounded. Coach Martinez pulled the ice pack away and gave her a hard look. "You're better than her. Show her."
Yn stood up, rolling her shoulders, shaking out her arms. The pain in her face had settled into a dull, constant throb, but she pushed it aside. Pain was just information. It told her she was still in the fight, still capable of winning.
The bell rang for round two.
Yn moved to the center of the ring, and this time, she didn't let her eyes wander. She focused entirely on Haliana, watching her movements, looking for patterns. Haliana came forward aggressively, clearly emboldened by her success in the first round.
She worked her jab, keeping Haliana at distance, not letting her close enough to land those powerful hooks. Jab, jab, move. Jab, cross, move. She was boxing now, using her technical skills instead of trying to brawl.
Haliana was getting frustrated—Yn could see it in the way her movements became more aggressive, less controlled. She was throwing wider punches, telegraphing her intentions. And then Yn saw it—Haliana's right shoulder dropped, just slightly, before she threw a hook.
Yn slipped the hook and countered with a straight right hand that caught Haliana flush on the chin. Haliana's head snapped back, her legs wobbling slightly. The crowd erupted.
Yn pressed forward, throwing a combination—jab, cross, hook to the body, uppercut. Haliana covered up, backing toward the ropes, and Yn followed, not letting her escape. This was her moment. This was where she took control.
She threw another combination, her punches sharp and precise. Haliana was hurt, her defense sloppy, and Yn could feel the momentum shifting. The crowd was on their feet, screaming, the noise deafening.
"Come on, Yn! You've got this!"
Logan's voice, cutting through the chaos like a knife. She didn't look at him—she'd learned that lesson—but she heard him. Heard the desperation and pride and belief in his voice. Heard him cheering for her like she was the only person in the world who mattered.
Something fierce and determined surged through Yn's chest. She threw a hook to Haliana's body, then an uppercut that snapped her head back. Haliana stumbled, and the referee stepped in, giving her a standing eight count.
Yn walked to the neutral corner, her chest heaving, her arms burning. She'd hurt Haliana. Really hurt her. And she wasn't done yet.
The referee waved them back together, and Yn advanced immediately. Haliana was trying to cover up, trying to survive until the bell, but Yn wasn't going to let her. She threw combination after combination, each punch designed to break through Haliana's defense.
And then the bell rang, ending round two.
Yn walked back to her corner, and this time, she let herself look at the crowd. At Hannah and Allie, who were screaming and jumping and holding up their signs. At the hockey team, who were on their feet, cheering like they were at one of their own games.
At Logan, who was gripping the fence so hard his knuckles were white, his eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her chest ache.
Their eyes met, and Logan mouthed something. Yn couldn't hear him over the noise, but she could read his lips: You're amazing.
Yn felt tears prick at her eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn't cry. Not now. Not when she was so close to winning.
"One more round," Coach Martinez said, pressing the ice pack against her face again. "She's hurt. She's tired. You've got her."
"Don't get cocky," Coach Martinez warned. "Hurt fighters are dangerous fighters. She's going to come out swinging, trying to land something big. You stay smart, stay technical, and finish this."
Yn nodded, taking another sip of water. Her body was screaming at her—her arms felt like lead, her legs were shaking, her face was on fire. But she'd been here before. She knew how to push through pain, how to find strength when she thought she had none left.
The bell rang for round three.
Yn moved to the center of the ring, and just like Coach Martinez had predicted, Haliana came out swinging. She was throwing wild, desperate punches, trying to land something that would turn the fight around. But Yn was ready. She slipped and countered, slipped and countered, making Haliana miss and pay for it every time.
"That's it, Yn!" Logan's voice again, louder this time. "Stay smart!"
Yn threw a jab that snapped Haliana's head back, then a cross that made her stumble. Haliana was fading, her punches losing power, her movements sluggish. Yn could see it in her eyes—she knew she was losing.
But Yn wasn't going to let up. Not after everything Jake and Haliana had put her through. Not after the psychological warfare, the deliberate attempt to break her. She was going to win this fight decisively, was going to leave no doubt about who was the better fighter.
She threw a combination—jab, cross, hook, uppercut—and Haliana's legs gave out. She dropped to one knee, her gloves on the canvas, her head bowed.
The referee started counting. "One... two... three..."
Yn walked to the neutral corner, her heart pounding. This was it. This was the moment.
Haliana was trying to get up, but her legs weren't cooperating. She made it to one knee, then collapsed again.
"Seven... eight... nine... ten!"
The referee waved his arms, signaling the end of the fight. "It's over!"
Yn's legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees in the center of the ring, her gloves pressed against her face. She'd done it. She'd won. Despite everything—despite Jake, despite the psychological warfare, despite her own fear and doubt—she'd won.
Coach Martinez was in the ring immediately, pulling her to her feet, his face split in a huge grin. "That's my girl! That's my fucking girl!"
Yn laughed, the sound coming out half sob, half triumph. Her body was shaking, adrenaline and exhaustion and relief all crashing over her at once.
The referee raised her hand, declaring her the winner, and the crowd's cheers grew even louder. Yn looked out at the sea of faces, trying to take it all in, trying to memorize this moment.
And then her eyes found Logan.
He was still at the fence, but now he was smiling—a huge, genuine smile that made him look younger, lighter, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was clapping, cheering, his eyes shining with pride and something else. Something that looked a lot like love.
Yn felt her chest tighten. She wanted to go to him, wanted to climb out of this ring and throw herself into his arms and tell him she was sorry, tell him she'd missed him, tell him she wanted to try again.
But first, she had to get through the post-fight formalities.
The next few minutes passed in a blur.
The referee held up Yn's hand again for the official announcement. The crowd cheered. Haliana's corner helped her out of the ring, and Yn caught a glimpse of Jake's face in the crowd—he looked furious, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard. Good. She hoped he was furious. She hoped he understood that she wasn't the same girl he'd left behind years ago.
Coach Martinez helped Yn out of the ring, and immediately she was surrounded by event staff and medics. Someone was checking her face, shining a light in her eyes, asking her questions about her vision and whether she felt dizzy or nauseous.
"I'm fine," Yn kept saying, even though her face felt like it was on fire and her entire body ached. "I'm fine."
But the medics insisted on checking her anyway, leading her to a small medical area set up near the locker rooms. Yn went along with it, too exhausted to argue. She sat on the examination table while a medic gently probed the swelling on her face.
"You're going to have a hell of a bruise," the medic said. "But nothing's broken. You got lucky."
"Doesn't feel lucky," Yn muttered.
"Trust me, I've seen worse." The medic handed her an ice pack. "Keep this on for twenty minutes, then twenty minutes off. Take ibuprofen for the pain. And if you experience any dizziness, nausea, or vision problems in the next twenty-four hours, go to the ER immediately."
The medic left, and Yn was finally alone. She pressed the ice pack against her face and closed her eyes, letting the adrenaline slowly drain from her system. She'd won. She'd actually won. Despite everything, despite all the odds stacked against her, she'd stepped into that ring and proven that she was stronger than her past.
But now that the fight was over, now that the adrenaline was fading, all the emotions she'd been pushing down came rushing back. The hurt. The anger. The loneliness. The desperate, aching need to see Logan.
There was a knock on the door. "Yn?" Hannah's voice. "Can we come in?"
The door opened, and Hannah and Allie rushed in, both of them talking at once.
"Oh my God, that was incredible!"
"That hook in the second round—"
"And the way you came back—"
They were both hugging her, careful of her injuries, their voices overlapping in excitement. Yn felt tears prick at her eyes again, overwhelmed by their love and support.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For being here. For everything."
"Are you kidding?" Allie said. "We wouldn't have missed this for anything."
"How are you feeling?" Hannah asked, pulling back to look at Yn's face. She winced. "That looks painful."
"It is," Yn admitted. "But it's worth it."
"You showed them," Allie said fiercely. "You showed Jake and Haliana and everyone who doubted you. You're a fucking warrior, Yn."
Yn smiled, even though it hurt. "Thanks."
There was another knock on the door, and Garrett stuck his head in. "Hey, can we come in? The team wants to congratulate you."
Yn nodded, and suddenly the small medical area was filled with hockey players. Tucker, Dean, Fitzy, Simms—all of them crowding in, talking over each other, reliving the fight blow by blow.
"That uppercut in the third round was insane!"
"I thought she was going to knock her head off!"
"Did you see Jake's face? He looked like he wanted to die!"
Yn laughed, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease. These guys had become her friends over the past few months, and having them here, celebrating with her, meant more than she could say. They'd shown up for her when it mattered, and that meant everything.
"Seriously, Yn," Fitzy said, shaking his head in amazement. "That was one of the most badass things I've ever seen. And I've seen Garrett take a skate blade to the face without flinching."
"Hey," Garrett protested. "That hurt like hell, I just didn't show it."
"Exactly my point," Fitzy said, grinning. "Us hockey players are tough, but Yn? She's on another level."
Tucker was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching Yn with an expression that was equal parts impressed and concerned. "That hook Haliana landed in the first round looked brutal," he said. "How's your face feeling?"
"Like I got punched by someone who wanted to take my head off," Yn said dryly. "So, pretty accurate."
"She got you good," Dean agreed. "But you came back from it. That's what matters."
"Yeah, about that," Tucker said, his tone shifting slightly. "What the hell was that about? The whole setup with Jake's new girlfriend being your opponent? That wasn't a coincidence."
The room went quiet. Yn felt her jaw tighten, the mention of Jake's name bringing back the surge of anger and hurt she'd felt when she'd first seen him at the coffee shop.
"No," she said quietly. "It wasn't a coincidence."
"That's fucked up," Simms said, his usually cheerful face darkening. "Who does that? Who brings their new girlfriend to fight their ex just to mess with her head?"
"Someone who's still bitter," Allie said, her voice sharp. "Someone who can't handle the fact that Yn moved on and is doing better without him."
"Did you move on, though?" Tucker asked, his eyes on Yn. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like seeing him rattled you pretty hard."
Yn bristled at the observation, even though she knew Tucker was right. "I'm fine," she said. "I handled it."
"You did more than handle it," Garrett said. "You destroyed her. But Tucker's got a point—you looked shaken when you first got in that ring. We all saw it."
"Of course I was shaken," Yn snapped, her frustration bubbling over. "My ex-boyfriend, who I haven't seen in over five years, shows up out of nowhere with his new girlfriend, who just happens to be my opponent in the biggest fight of my season. Yeah, I was rattled. But I still won."
"We're not saying you didn't," Hannah said gently, reaching out to touch Yn's arm. "We're just worried about you. This whole thing with Jake—it's a lot to deal with."
"I'm dealing with it," Yn said. "I'm fine."
"Are you?" Tucker asked, his tone skeptical. "Because you don't look fine. You look like you're about two seconds away from either crying or punching someone."
Yn glared at him. "I just fought for three rounds. I'm allowed to look a little rough."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Tucker said. He pushed off the wall and came closer, his expression serious. "Look, I get it. You're tough. You don't like showing weakness. But you don't have to pretend with us. We're your friends. We care about you."
Yn felt her throat tighten. She hated this—hated feeling vulnerable, hated the way her emotions were so close to the surface. She'd spent weeks building her walls back up after Logan had shut her out, and now they were crumbling again.
"I know," she said quietly. "I just... I don't want to talk about Jake right now. I want to enjoy this win."
"Fair enough," Tucker said, nodding. "But for the record, if you ever want us to kick his ass, just say the word. We're more than happy to do it."
That got a small laugh out of Yn. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Speaking of people we might need to kick the ass of," Fitzy said, his tone deliberately casual, "Logan was at the fight."
Yn's heart stuttered. She'd known he was there—she'd seen him, heard his voice—but hearing it confirmed out loud made it real in a way that was almost overwhelming.
"I know," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I saw him."
"Did you?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because from where we were standing, it looked like you were trying really hard not to look at him."
"I was focused on the fight," Yn said defensively.
"Bullshit," Tucker said bluntly. "You heard his voice and it was like someone flipped a switch. You went from getting your ass kicked to absolutely demolishing Haliana. Don't tell me that was a coincidence."
Yn didn't respond. She couldn't. Because Tucker was right—hearing Logan's voice had changed something in her. It had given her the fuel she needed to push through the pain and the fear and the anger. It had reminded her that she wasn't alone.
But she was still so fucking angry at him.
"Where is he?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The guys exchanged glances. "Outside," Garrett said carefully. "He wanted to come in, but... he wasn't sure if you'd want to see him."
"Of course she wants to see him," Hannah said, looking at Yn with knowing eyes. "Right?"
Yn didn't answer. She didn't know what she wanted. Part of her wanted to see Logan so badly it hurt—wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to hear his voice, wanted to know that he was okay. But another part of her was still furious with him for shutting her out, for making her feel like she didn't matter, for repeating the same pattern Jake had.
"I don't know," she admitted finally. "I'm still mad at him."
"We know," Allie said gently. "But you're also in love with him."
Yn's head snapped up. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to," Hannah said. "We can see it. The way you've been miserable these past few weeks, the way you lit up when you heard his voice tonight—you're in love with him, Yn. And he's in love with you."
"He has a shitty way of showing it," Yn muttered.
"Yeah, he does," Tucker agreed. "But he's here now. That's got to count for something."
"Does it?" Yn asked, her voice breaking slightly. "He shut me out for days, Tucker. He didn't call, didn't text, didn't explain what was going on. He just... disappeared. Just like Jake did. And I swore I'd never let someone do that to me again."
"Logan's not Jake," Garrett said firmly. "I know it feels the same, but it's not. Logan was dealing with his mom's relapse. He was trying to hold his family together. He wasn't trying to hurt you."
"But he did hurt me," Yn said, tears stinging her eyes. "He hurt me so much, and I don't know if I can forgive him for that."
"You don't have to decide right now," Hannah said softly. "But maybe you should at least talk to him. Hear him out. And then decide."
Yn closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. Her face throbbed, her body ached, and her heart felt like it was being torn in two. She was exhausted—physically, emotionally, mentally. But she knew Hannah was right. She couldn't avoid Logan forever. They needed to talk.
"Okay," she said finally, opening her eyes. "Okay. I'll talk to him."
Tucker nodded and headed for the door. "I'll go get him."
As he left, the rest of the team started filing out, giving Yn space. Hannah and Allie hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave her alone.
"We'll be right outside if you need us," Hannah said, squeezing Yn's hand.
"I know," Yn said. "Thank you."
"You've got this," Allie said. "Whatever happens, you've got this."
And then they were gone, and Yn was alone in the small medical area, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. She looked down at her hands, still wrapped in tape, and tried to prepare herself for what was about to happen.
But nothing could have prepared her for the moment Logan walked through the door.
He looked... rough. His hair was disheveled, like he'd been running his hands through it, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing jeans and a dark hoodie, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. But his eyes—those brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for weeks—were fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
"Yn," he said, his voice rough and low.
She couldn't speak. Couldn't move. She just stared at him, taking in every detail, her heart aching with how much she'd missed him.
"Jesus," Logan breathed, crossing the room in three long strides. He stopped just in front of her, his hands hovering near her face like he wanted to touch her but wasn't sure if he was allowed. "Your face. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Yn said automatically, even though her voice was shaking. "It looks worse than it is."
"It looks like you got hit by a truck," Logan said, his jaw tight. "I watched that hook land and I thought—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I thought she was going to knock you out."
"She almost did," Yn admitted. "But I came back."
"You did more than come back," Logan said. "You destroyed her. That knockout was... Yn, that was incredible. You were incredible."
Yn felt tears prick her eyes again. She didn't want to cry—not now, not in front of him—but she couldn't help it. Hearing him say those words, seeing the pride and concern in his eyes, it was too much.
"Don't," she said, her voice breaking. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" Logan asked, confused.
"Don't act like you care," Yn said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Don't stand there and tell me I was incredible when you shut me out and made me feel like I didn't matter."
Logan's face crumpled. "Yn—"
"No," Yn said, cutting him off. She stood up from the exam table, ignoring the way her legs shook. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to disappear for weeks and then show up here and act like everything's fine."
"I know," Logan said, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you. But Yn, please, just let me explain—"
"Explain what?" Yn demanded, her anger flaring. "Explain how your mom relapsed and you decided the best way to handle it was to shut me out completely? Explain how you couldn't even send me a text to let me know you were okay? Explain how you made me feel exactly like Jake made me feel—like I was disposable, like I didn't matter enough to keep in the loop?"
"You do matter," Logan said desperately. "You matter more than anyone. That's why I—"
"That's why you what?" Yn interrupted. "That's why you pushed me away? That's bullshit, John. If I mattered, you would have let me in. You would have let me help you. But instead, you shut me out, and I had to find out from your sister—your sister, who I'd never even met—that something was wrong."
Logan flinched at the use of his first name. Yn only called him John when they were alone, when they were intimate, when she was letting him see the softer parts of herself. Hearing it now, laced with anger and hurt, felt like a knife to the chest.
"I was trying to protect you," Logan said quietly.
"Protect me?" Yn repeated incredulously. "From what?"
"From my mess," Logan said. "From my family's dysfunction. From having to deal with my shit when you already have so much of your own."
"That's not your decision to make," Yn said, her voice shaking. "You don't get to decide what I can and can't handle. You don't get to shut me out because you think you're protecting me. That's not how relationships work."
"I know," Logan said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know, okay? I fucked up. I should have told you what was going on. I should have let you in. But Yn, I was drowning. My mom relapsed, my dad was falling apart, Jules was trying to hold everything together, and I just... I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could do was show up at the shop every day and try to keep my family from imploding."
"And you couldn't take five minutes to send me a text?" Yn asked, her voice breaking. "You couldn't let me know you were okay? That you still cared?"
"I was afraid," Logan admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid that if I reached out to you, if I let you see how much of a mess I was, you'd realize I wasn't worth it. That I was too broken, too damaged, too much work."
Yn stared at him, her anger warring with the ache in her chest. "So instead, you just... disappeared. You made the decision for me. You decided I couldn't handle it, and you shut me out."
"Yes," Logan said. "And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Yn. I know I hurt you. I know I made you feel like you didn't matter. But you do matter. You matter so much it scares the hell out of me."
"Then why?" Yn asked, tears streaming down her face now. "Why did you do it? Why did you make me feel like Jake all over again?"
Logan's face twisted with pain. "I'm not Jake," he said fiercely. "I'm not him, Yn. I didn't leave because I didn't care. I left because I cared too much and I didn't know how to handle it."
"That's not good enough," Yn said, shaking her head. "That's not an excuse. You don't get to hurt me and then say it's because you cared too much. That's not how this works."
"I know," Logan said. "I know it's not good enough. But it's the truth. And I'm here now, trying to make it right. Trying to show you that I'm not going anywhere."
"How am I supposed to believe that?" Yn asked, her voice raw. "How am I supposed to trust that you won't do this again the next time things get hard?"
"I don't know," Logan admitted. "I don't have a good answer for that. All I can tell you is that I learned my lesson. Shutting you out was the worst mistake I've ever made. These past three weeks have been hell without you. And I swear, if you give me another chance, I won't make that mistake again."
Yn wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to believe him so badly. But she was terrified—terrified of letting him back in, terrified of getting hurt again, terrified of being vulnerable with someone who had already proven he could shut her out when things got tough.
"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered. "I don't know if I can trust you again."
Logan's face fell, but he nodded. "I understand," he said quietly. "I do. And if you need time, I'll give you time. If you need space, I'll give you space. But Yn, please don't shut me out completely. Please don't give up on us."
"There is no us," Yn said, even though the words felt like they were tearing her apart. "You made sure of that when you disappeared."
"Don't say that," Logan said, his voice breaking. "Please don't say that."
"Why not?" Yn demanded. "It's true. You ended things when you stopped talking to me. You just didn't have the guts to say it out loud."
"I didn't end things," Logan said desperately. "I never wanted to end things. I just... I fucked up. I made a mistake. But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. That doesn't mean I stopped—" He broke off, shaking his head.
"Stopped what?" Yn asked, her heart pounding.
Logan looked at her, his eyes filled with so much emotion it made her chest ache. "Stopped loving you," he said quietly.
Yn felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. "What?"
"I love you," Logan said, his voice stronger now. "I'm in love with you, Yn. I have been for weeks. And I know I fucked up, I know I hurt you, but that doesn't change how I feel. It doesn't change the fact that you're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. It doesn't change the fact that hearing your voice at that fight tonight was the only thing that's made me feel alive in three weeks."
Yn couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Logan loved her. He was in love with her. And she—
"I heard you," she whispered.
"At the fight," Yn said, her voice shaking. "When Haliana landed that hook and I was on the ropes, I heard you. I heard you shouting my name, telling me to get up, telling me I could do it. And it was like... it was like everything else faded away and all I could hear was your voice. And I knew I had to get up. I had to win. Because you were there."
Logan's eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Yn—"
"I'm in love with you too," Yn said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm so in love with you it terrifies me. And when you shut me out, when you disappeared, it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. It felt like I was losing the most important person in my life, and I didn't know how to handle it."
"You're not losing me," Logan said, closing the distance between them. He cupped her face gently, careful of her bruised cheek. "You're never going to lose me. I promise."
"You can't promise that," Yn said, tears streaming down her face. "You can't promise you won't shut me out again."
"Yes, I can," Logan said firmly. "Because I know what it feels like to lose you now. I know what it's like to wake up every morning and not have you in my life. And I never want to feel that way again. So I'm promising you, right here, right now—I will never shut you out again. When things get hard, when life gets messy, I'll let you in. I'll let you help me. I'll let you be there for me the way you deserve to be."
Yn searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, any hint that he didn't mean what he was saying. But all she saw was sincerity and love and a desperate hope that she would give him another chance.
"If you hurt me again," she said quietly, "I don't think I'll survive it."
"I won't," Logan said. "I swear to you, Yn, I won't hurt you again."
Yn closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She could walk away right now. She could protect herself, keep her walls up, refuse to let Logan back in. It would be the safe choice, the smart choice.
But it wouldn't be the right choice.
Because the truth was, she didn't want to walk away. She didn't want to protect herself. She wanted Logan—messy, broken, imperfect Logan—with every fiber of her being. She wanted his laugh and his smile and his terrible jokes. She wanted his vulnerability and his strength and his unwavering support. She wanted all of him, even the parts that scared her.
"Okay," she whispered, opening her eyes.
Logan's breath caught. "Okay?"
"Okay," Yn repeated, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the tears. "I'll give you another chance. But John, I swear to God, if you ever shut me out like that again—"
She didn't get to finish the sentence because Logan was kissing her, his lips crashing against hers with a desperation that took her breath away. Yn melted into him, her hands fisting in his hoodie, pulling him closer. The kiss was messy and tear-stained and probably not the smartest thing to do given her bruised face, but she didn't care. All she cared about was that Logan was here, that he loved her, that they were going to figure this out together.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Logan rested his forehead against hers. "I love you," he said again, like he couldn't say it enough. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," Yn said, her voice thick with emotion. "Even though you're an idiot."
Logan laughed, the sound wet and relieved. "I know. I'm the biggest idiot in the world."
"You really are," Yn agreed. "But you're my idiot."
"Yeah," Logan said, smiling through his tears. "I am."
They stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms, neither of them wanting to let go. Outside, Yn could hear the muffled sounds of the arena—people talking, celebrating, moving on with their lives. But in this small medical area, it felt like time had stopped. Like it was just the two of them, finding their way back to each other.
"We should probably talk about this more," Yn said eventually. "About what happened, about how we're going to move forward."
"We will," Logan promised. "We'll talk about everything. But right now, can we just... be? Can I just hold you for a little while?"
Yn nodded, burrowing deeper into his embrace. "Yeah," she said softly. "We can do that."
And so they did. They stood there, holding each other, letting the weight of the past few weeks slowly lift from their shoulders. There would be time for more conversations later—time to discuss boundaries and communication and how to handle things when life got hard. But for now, this was enough.
For now, they had each other. And that was all that mattered.
After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, there was a soft knock on the door. Logan pulled back slightly, but kept his arms around Yn.
Hannah poked her head in, her eyes immediately going to Yn and Logan's intertwined forms. A smile spread across her face. "Hey," she said gently. "Sorry to interrupt, but Coach Martinez wants to talk to you about the fight. And there are some reporters who want interviews."
Yn groaned. "Can't they wait?"
"Probably not," Hannah said sympathetically. "You just knocked out Jake's girlfriend in front of half the campus. People want to hear from you."
"Great," Yn muttered. She looked up at Logan. "I have to—"
"I know," Logan said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Go do your thing. I'll be here when you're done."
"Promise?" Yn asked, hating how vulnerable she sounded.
"Promise," Logan said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere."
Yn nodded, reluctantly pulling away from him. As she headed toward the door, Logan caught her hand.
"Hey," he said, waiting until she looked back at him. "You were amazing tonight. I'm so proud of you."
Yn felt her heart swell. "Thank you," she said softly. "For being here. For everything."
And as Yn walked out of the medical area to face the reporters and the aftermath of her victory, she felt lighter than she had in weeks. Because Logan was here. He loved her. And they were going to figure this out together.
The drive back to Yn's apartment was silent, but it wasn't the uncomfortable silence that had stretched between them for weeks. This was different—charged, electric, heavy with anticipation and unspoken promises. Logan's hand rested on Yn's thigh, his thumb tracing absent circles through the fabric of her leggings, and every touch sent sparks of heat through her body.
Yn kept her eyes on the road, but she was hyperaware of everything—the way Logan's breathing had changed, slightly faster and deeper than normal; the way his grip on her leg would tighten every time she shifted gears; the way he kept glancing at her like he couldn't quite believe she was real, that she was here, that she'd given him another chance.
Her face still throbbed from Haliana's hook, and her body ached from three rounds of brutal boxing, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was Logan beside her, his presence filling the car, his touch grounding her in a way nothing else could.
When they finally pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, Yn killed the engine and sat there for a moment, her hands still gripping the steering wheel. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
"Yn," Logan said softly, and she turned to look at him.
His eyes were dark, intense, filled with so much emotion it made her chest ache. "Are you sure about this?" he asked. "We don't have to—I mean, if you're not ready, if you need more time—"
Yn cut him off by leaning across the center console and kissing him. It was desperate and hungry and full of three weeks' worth of longing and frustration and need. Logan made a sound low in his throat and kissed her back just as fiercely, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Yn rested her forehead against his. "I'm sure," she said, her voice rough. "I want this. I want you."
"Thank God," Logan breathed, and then they were scrambling out of the car, Yn grabbing her gym bag from the backseat while Logan followed close behind her.
The walk to her apartment felt like it took forever. Yn's hands were shaking as she fumbled with her keys, and she could feel Logan behind her, his body heat radiating against her back, his breath warm on her neck.
"Need help?" he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and Yn shivered.
"I've got it," she said, finally managing to get the key in the lock. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, dropping her gym bag by the entrance. Logan followed, closing and locking the door behind them.
For a moment, they just stood there in the dim light of the entryway, looking at each other. Yn could see the want in Logan's eyes, the barely restrained desire, but also the tenderness, the love, the promise that this meant something more than just physical release.
"Come here," Yn said softly, and Logan closed the distance between them in two strides.
This kiss was different from the one in the car—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Logan's hands came up to frame her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones as his lips moved against hers with a reverence that made her knees weak. Yn's hands fisted in his hoodie, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against her.
"I missed you," Logan murmured against her lips. "God, Yn, I missed you so much."
"I missed you too," Yn admitted, her voice breaking slightly. "Every day. Every minute."
Logan pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes searching hers. "I love you," he said. "I need you to know that. I need you to believe it."
"I do," Yn said, reaching up to cup his face. "I believe you. And I love you too."
Logan's eyes closed briefly, like he was savoring the words, and then he was kissing her again, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Yn could feel the hard length of him pressing against her stomach, and heat pooled low in her belly.
"Bedroom," she gasped against his mouth, and Logan nodded, his hands already working at the zipper of her compress jacket.
They stumbled down the hallway, shedding clothes as they went. Yn's jacket hit the floor first, followed by Logan's hoodie. By the time they reached her bedroom, Yn was down to her sports bra and leggings, and Logan was shirtless, his chest heaving with each breath.
Yn pushed him toward the bed, and Logan went willingly, sitting on the edge and looking up at her with dark, hungry eyes. Yn stood between his spread legs, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.
"You're so beautiful," Logan said, his hands sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through the fabric of her sports bra. "So fucking beautiful."
Yn felt heat flood her cheeks. She wasn't used to being called beautiful—strong, yes; tough, absolutely; intimidating, definitely. But beautiful? That was new. And coming from Logan, it felt like the most precious gift.
"So are you," she said, running her hands over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath her palms. "You're gorgeous, John."
Logan's breath hitched at the use of his first name, and his grip on her waist tightened. "Say it again," he said, his voice rough.
"John," Yn repeated, leaning down to press a kiss to his jaw. "My John."
Logan groaned, his hands sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her even closer. "Yours," he agreed. "Always yours."
Yn kissed him again, slow and deep, her tongue sliding against his as her hands explored his body. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely restrained desire, and it made her feel powerful in a way that had nothing to do with her fists.
She pulled back and reached for the hem of her sports bra, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion. Logan's eyes went wide, his gaze dropping to her breasts, and Yn felt a surge of satisfaction at the naked want on his face.
"Fuck," Logan breathed, his hands coming up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. "You're perfect."
Yn arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Touch me," she said. "Please, John."
Logan didn't need to be told twice. His mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his hand worked the other, rolling and pinching gently. Yn's head fell back, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her.
"God, yes," she gasped, her hips rocking against him involuntarily. "Just like that."
Logan switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, and Yn felt like she was going to combust. Every nerve ending was on fire, every touch sending waves of pleasure through her body. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the ache that was building with every passing second.
"I need more," she said, her voice desperate. "John, I need—"
"I know," Logan said, pulling back to look up at her. His lips were swollen, his eyes dark with desire. "I've got you, baby. I've got you."
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her leggings and slowly pulled them down, taking her underwear with them. Yn stepped out of them, now completely naked before him, and Logan just stared at her for a long moment, his eyes roaming over every inch of her body.
"You're staring," Yn said, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
"I can't help it," Logan said, his voice reverent. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Yn felt tears prick her eyes at the sincerity in his voice. She reached down and cupped his face, tilting his head up so she could look into his eyes. "I want to make you feel good," she said softly. "Will you let me?"
Logan's eyes darkened even further. "Yn—"
"Please," she said, already sinking to her knees between his legs. "I want to taste you."
Logan's breath came out in a shaky exhale. "Fuck, yes," he said. "Yes, please."
Yn reached for the button of his jeans, her fingers working quickly to undo it and pull down the zipper. Logan lifted his hips, helping her pull his jeans and boxers down his legs, and then he was naked before her, his cock hard and straining, the tip already glistening with precum.
Yn licked her lips, her mouth watering at the sight. She'd thought about this—about having Logan like this, vulnerable and wanting—more times than she cared to admit. And now that it was finally happening, she wanted to savor every second.
She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of him, and Logan groaned, his hips jerking slightly. "Yn," he breathed, his hands gripping the edge of the bed.
"Shh," Yn said, looking up at him through her lashes. "Let me take care of you."
She leaned forward and dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock, from base to tip, and Logan's whole body shuddered. The taste of him—salt and musk and something uniquely Logan—flooded her senses, and she hummed in satisfaction.
"Fuck," Logan gasped, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair. "That feels so good."
Yn did it again, this time swirling her tongue around the head, lapping up the precum that had gathered there. Logan's grip on her hair tightened, and she could feel the tension in his body, the way he was trying so hard to stay still, to let her set the pace.
She took him into her mouth slowly, inch by inch, her lips stretching around his girth. Logan was big—bigger than she'd expected (she hadnt *really* looked that day)—and she had to relax her jaw to take him deeper. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked gently, and Logan let out a low, guttural moan that sent a thrill of satisfaction through her.
"Jesus Christ," Logan breathed, his head falling back. "Your mouth—fuck, Yn, your mouth is incredible."
Yn pulled back until just the tip was between her lips, then sank down again, taking him deeper this time. She set up a rhythm, bobbing her head up and down, her hand working the base of his cock in time with her movements. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, could taste the precum that was steadily leaking from the tip, and it made her own arousal spike.
Logan's hand in her hair tightened, guiding her movements but not forcing, and Yn loved the feeling of being in control while also being directed. She looked up at him through her lashes and found him watching her with an expression of pure awe and desire.
"You look so fucking good like this," Logan said, his voice strained. "On your knees for me, taking my cock so well. God, Yn, you're perfect."
Yn moaned around him, the vibrations making Logan's hips jerk. She took him deeper, relaxing her throat, and Logan cursed, his grip on her hair almost painful now.
"Fuck, baby, I'm not going to last if you keep doing that," he warned, but Yn didn't stop. She wanted to make him come like this, wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him lose control because of her.
She doubled her efforts, sucking harder, moving faster, her hand twisting around the base of his cock. Logan's breathing was ragged now, his thighs trembling, and Yn could tell he was close.
"Yn," he gasped, trying to pull her off. "Baby, I'm going to—you don't have to—"
But Yn didn't pull away. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and she saw the moment he understood—the moment he realized she wanted this, wanted all of him.
"Fuck," Logan groaned, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in her mouth as he spilled down her throat. Yn swallowed every drop, working him through his orgasm until he was spent and shaking.
When she finally pulled off, Logan was staring at her with an expression of complete disbelief. "That was—" He broke off, shaking his head. "I don't even have words."
Yn wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled up at him. "Good?"
"Good?" Logan repeated incredulously. He reached down and pulled her up, guiding her onto the bed beside him. "Yn, that was the best blow job of my entire life. You're incredible."
Yn felt a flush of pride at his words. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Enjoyed it?" Logan said, rolling over to hover above her. "Baby, I think you just ruined me for anyone else. Not that there's going to be anyone else," he added quickly. "Because there's not. It's just you. Only you."
"Good," Yn said, reaching up to cup his face. "Because I don't share."
Logan grinned and leaned down to kiss her, slow and deep. "My turn," he murmured against her lips.
"Your turn?" Yn asked, confused.
"To make you feel good," Logan said, kissing his way down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. "To taste you. To make you come so hard you forget your own name."
Yn's breath caught. "John—"
"Let me," Logan said, his hands sliding down her sides, over her hips, spreading her thighs. "Please, Yn. I've been dreaming about this for weeks. Let me make you feel good."
Yn nodded, unable to form words, and Logan smiled against her skin. He kissed his way down her body, paying special attention to her breasts, her ribs, her stomach. By the time he settled between her legs, Yn was trembling with anticipation.
Logan looked up at her, his eyes dark and hungry. "You're so wet," he said, his fingers sliding through her folds. "Is this all for me?"
"Yes," Yn gasped, her hips lifting involuntarily. "All for you."
Logan groaned and leaned forward, dragging his tongue through her wetness in one long, slow lick. Yn cried out, her hands flying to his hair, and Logan did it again, this time focusing on her clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue.
"Oh God," Yn moaned, her head falling back against the pillow. "John, that feels—"
"Good?" Logan asked, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh.
"So good," Yn confirmed, her fingers tightening in his hair. "Don't stop."
Logan had no intention of stopping. He licked and sucked and explored every inch of her, learning what made her gasp, what made her moan, what made her hips buck against his face. He was thorough and attentive, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on her clit, and Yn felt like she was going to lose her mind.
"More," she begged, her thighs trembling. "Please, John, I need more."
Logan slid one finger inside her, then two, curling them to hit that spot that made her see stars. Yn cried out, her back arching off the bed, and Logan groaned against her, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through her.
"You taste so fucking good," Logan said, his voice muffled. "I could do this all night."
"John," Yn gasped, her hips rocking against his face. "I'm close. I'm so close."
Logan doubled his efforts, his fingers pumping in and out of her while his tongue worked her clit, and Yn felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her belly. She was right on the edge, so close she could almost taste it, and then Logan sucked hard on her clit and she shattered.
"John!" she cried out, her whole body convulsing as the orgasm crashed over her. Logan worked her through it, his fingers and tongue never stopping, drawing out her pleasure until she was boneless and gasping.
When she finally came down, Logan pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh before crawling back up her body. His face was wet with her arousal, and he was grinning like he'd just won the lottery.
"You're beautiful when you come," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I want to see it again."
"Give me a minute," Yn said breathlessly. "I think you just melted my brain."
Logan laughed and kissed her, and Yn could taste herself on his lips. It should have been weird, but instead it was incredibly hot, and she felt her arousal starting to build again.
"I want you inside me," she said against his mouth. "I want to feel you."
Logan groaned. "Are you sure? We can wait if you need—"
"I'm sure," Yn said firmly. "I want this. I want you."
Logan nodded and reached for the nightstand, pulling open the drawer. "Do you have—"
"Top drawer," Yn said, and Logan found the box of condoms she kept there. He pulled one out and tore it open, rolling it on with practiced ease.
He settled between her legs, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, and looked down at her with so much love and tenderness it made her chest ache.
"I love you," he said softly. "I love you so much, Yn."
"I love you too," Yn said, reaching up to cup his face. "Now please, John, I need you."
Logan pushed forward slowly, inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to his size. Yn gasped at the stretch, the fullness, the feeling of being completely connected to him. When he was fully seated inside her, they both stilled, just breathing, just feeling.
"Okay?" Logan asked, his voice strained.
"Perfect," Yn said, wrapping her legs around his waist. "You feel perfect."
Logan started to move, slow and deep, each thrust deliberate and measured. Yn met him stroke for stroke, her hips rising to meet his, and the pleasure built steadily between them.
"Harder," Yn said, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I won't break."
Logan groaned and picked up the pace, his hips snapping against hers with more force. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with their gasps and moans, and Yn felt like she was on fire.
"You feel so good," Logan panted, his forehead pressed against hers. "So tight, so perfect. Like you were made for me."
"I was," Yn said, her voice breaking. "I was made for you, John. Only you."
Logan's rhythm faltered for a moment, and then he was kissing her desperately, his tongue sliding against hers as his hips continued their relentless pace. Yn could feel the tension building again, that coil of pleasure tightening in her belly, and she knew she was close.
"Touch yourself," Logan said, pulling back to look at her. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
Yn's hand slid between their bodies, her fingers finding her clit, and she started to rub in tight circles. The added stimulation was almost too much, and she cried out, her inner walls clenching around Logan.
"Fuck, yes," Logan groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Just like that, baby. Come for me."
Yn's orgasm hit her like a freight train, her whole body seizing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. She heard herself crying out Logan's name—"John, John, oh God, John"—and then Logan was coming too, his hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom.
They collapsed together, both breathing hard, their bodies slick with sweat. Logan rolled to the side, pulling Yn with him so she was draped across his chest, and they just lay there for a long moment, coming down from the high.
"That was—" Yn started, but she couldn't find the words.
"Yeah," Logan agreed, his hand stroking up and down her back. "It really was."
Yn lifted her head to look at him, and found him watching her with soft, tender eyes. "I love you," she said again, because she couldn't say it enough.
"I love you too," Logan said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "So much."
They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, just holding each other, until Logan finally stirred. "I should probably—" He gestured vaguely downward.
"Right," Yn said, reluctantly rolling off him. "Bathroom's through there."
Logan disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, and Yn took the opportunity to catch her breath. Her body was pleasantly sore, her face still throbbed from the fight, but she felt more content than she had in weeks.
When Logan came back, he slid into bed beside her and pulled her close, tucking her against his side. Yn rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"So," Logan said after a moment. "We should probably talk about what happens next."
"What do you mean?" Yn asked.
"I mean, where do we go from here?" Logan said. "I know we said we'd give this another shot, but I want to make sure we're on the same page. I want to do this right."
Yn was quiet for a moment, thinking. "I want to be with you," she said finally. "Really be with you. Not just casually, not just when it's convenient. I want us to be a real couple."
"Me too," Logan said, his arm tightening around her. "I want that more than anything."
"But I need you to promise me something," Yn said, lifting her head to look at him. "I need you to promise that you won't shut me out again. That when things get hard, you'll let me in. That you'll let me help you."
"I promise," Logan said without hesitation. "I swear to you, Yn, I will never shut you out like that again. You're my partner. My equal. And I want to face everything with you by my side."
"Good," Yn said, settling back against his chest. "Because I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me now."
Logan laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I can think of worse fates."
They fell into comfortable silence again, and Yn felt herself starting to drift off. But then Logan spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Earlier, at the fight," Logan said. "When you heard my voice—did it really help? Or was that just adrenaline?"
Yn thought about it for a moment. "It helped," she said honestly. "I was getting my ass kicked, and I was starting to think maybe I couldn't do it. But then I heard you, and it was like... like everything else faded away. All I could hear was your voice telling me to get up, telling me I could do it. And I believed you."
Logan was quiet for a long moment. "I was so scared," he admitted. "When I saw that hook land, when I saw you on the ropes, I thought—" He broke off, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I was going to lose you before I even got the chance to make things right."
"You didn't lose me," Yn said, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I'm right here."
"I know," Logan said. "And I'm never letting you go again."
Yn smiled against his skin. "Good. Because I'm pretty sure I'd hunt you down if you tried."
Logan laughed again, and Yn felt the tension drain out of his body. They lay there in the darkness, wrapped around each other, and Yn felt a sense of peace settle over her that she hadn't felt in weeks.
"Hey, John?" she said softly.
"Thank you for coming to the fight," Yn said. "Even after everything, even though we weren't talking—you still showed up for me. That means everything."
"I'll always show up for you," Logan said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "No matter what. That's a promise."
Yn felt tears prick her eyes, but they were good tears this time. Happy tears. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too," Logan whispered back. "Now get some sleep. You had a hell of a night."
Yn snuggled closer to him, feeling safe and loved and completely content. As she drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Logan's arms, she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.
They had a long road ahead of them—there would be challenges and obstacles and moments of doubt. But they had each other. And that was more than enough.
Yn woke up slowly, awareness creeping in bit by bit. The first thing she noticed was warmth—solid, comforting warmth pressed against her back. The second thing she noticed was the arm draped over her waist, holding her close. And the third thing she noticed was the steady rhythm of breathing against her neck.
The events of the previous night came flooding back—the fight, the reunion, the sex—and Yn felt a smile tug at her lips. She shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but Logan's arm tightened around her waist.
"Where do you think you're going?" he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.
"Nowhere," Yn said, settling back against him. "Just getting comfortable."
"Good," Logan said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Because I'm not ready to let you go yet."
Yn turned in his arms so she was facing him, and found him watching her with sleepy, affectionate eyes. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a crease on his cheek from the pillow. He looked absolutely adorable.
"Morning," she said softly.
"Morning," Logan replied, leaning in to kiss her. It was slow and sweet and perfect, and Yn felt her heart swell with love for this man.
When they pulled apart, Logan brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "How are you feeling? How's your face?"
Yn reached up to touch her cheek, wincing slightly at the tenderness. "Sore," she admitted. "But not as bad as I expected."
"Let me see," Logan said, gently tilting her face toward the light. He studied the bruise for a moment, his expression darkening. "That's going to be a hell of a shiner."
"Battle scars," Yn said with a shrug. "I've had worse."
"I know," Logan said. "But I still hate seeing you hurt."
"I'm okay," Yn assured him. "Really. It looks worse than it feels."
Logan didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "If you say so."
They lay there for a while longer, just holding each other, until Yn's stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. Logan laughed.
"Starving," Yn admitted. "I didn't eat much yesterday. Too nervous about the fight."
"Well, we can't have that," Logan said, sitting up. "How about I make us breakfast?"
Yn raised an eyebrow. "You cook?"
"I can make a mean omelet," Logan said with a grin. "And pancakes. And bacon. Basically, I'm a breakfast wizard."
"A breakfast wizard," Yn repeated, laughing. "Okay, breakfast wizard. Show me what you've got."
They got out of bed and pulled on clothes—Logan borrowing a pair of Yn's sweatpants that were comically too small on him, and Yn throwing on an oversized t-shirt. They made their way to the kitchen, and Logan immediately started rummaging through the fridge and cabinets.
"You actually have food," he said, sounding impressed. "I was half expecting to find nothing but protein powder and energy drinks."
"I'm a boxer, not a frat boy," Yn said dryly. "I know how to feed myself."
Logan grinned and started pulling out ingredients. Yn hopped up on the counter to watch him work, and she couldn't help but admire the way he moved—confident and efficient, like he'd done this a thousand times before.
"So," Logan said as he cracked eggs into a bowl. "What's the plan for today?"
"I don't know," Yn said. "I don't have any training scheduled. I was thinking maybe just... relax? Watch movies? Order takeout?"
"That sounds perfect," Logan said. "Although I should probably go back to my place at some point and get some clean clothes."
"Or," Yn said slowly, "you could just... stay here. For the weekend, I mean. If you want."
Logan looked up at her, his eyes soft. "I'd like that," he said. "I'd like that a lot."
"Good," Yn said, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Because I'm not ready to let you go yet either."
Logan smiled and went back to cooking, and Yn watched him with a sense of contentment she hadn't felt in a long time. This—this easy domesticity, this comfortable silence, this feeling of being completely at home with another person—was something she'd never had before. Not with Jake, not with anyone.
But with Logan, it felt natural. It felt right.
When breakfast was ready, they sat at the small kitchen table and ate together, talking about everything and nothing. Logan told her about his sister Jules, about how she'd been holding the family together while their mom was in rehab. Yn told him about her upcoming training schedule, about the next competition she was preparing for.
"I want to come to your next fight," Logan said. "If that's okay with you."
"Of course it's okay," Yn said. "I want you there. Having you there last night—it made all the difference."
"Good," Logan said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Because I plan on being at every fight from now on. Front row, cheering you on."
Yn felt tears prick her eyes again. "You're going to make me cry," she said, her voice thick.
"Sorry," Logan said, squeezing her hand. "I just—I want you to know how much you mean to me. How proud I am of you. How much I believe in you."
"I know," Yn said, squeezing back. "And I want you to know the same thing. I'm proud of you too, John. For everything you've been through, for how you've handled it. You're stronger than you think."
Logan's eyes were shining now too. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"
"Yeah," Yn said, smiling through her tears. "We really are."
After breakfast, they moved to the couch and spent the rest of the morning watching movies and cuddling. Logan kept his arm around Yn the whole time, and she kept her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
It was perfect. Simple and easy and perfect.
At some point, Yn's phone buzzed with a text from Hannah: How did it go with Logan? Are you guys okay? Do I need to come over there and kick his ass?
Yn smiled and typed back: We're good. Really good. I'll fill you in later.
Hannah's response was immediate: THANK GOD. I've been so worried. Love you, babe.
Love you too, Yn replied, then set her phone aside.
"Yeah," Yn said. "She wanted to make sure we were okay."
"And are we?" Logan asked. "Okay, I mean?"
Yn lifted her head to look at him. "Yeah," she said softly. "We are. We're more than okay."
Logan smiled and pulled her in for a kiss, and Yn melted into him, feeling like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
They spent the rest of the day like that—talking, laughing, kissing, just being together. And when night fell and they climbed back into bed, wrapped around each other once again, Yn felt a sense of peace and happiness that she'd never experienced before.
This was what love was supposed to feel like, she realized. Not the anxiety and uncertainty she'd felt with Jake, but this—this comfort, this trust, this absolute certainty that the person beside her was in it for the long haul.
"Hey, John?" she said softly into the darkness.
"I'm really glad you came to the fight," Yn said. "I'm really glad you didn't give up on us."
"I could never give up on you," Logan said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're it for me, Yn. You're my person."
"You're my person too," Yn whispered, feeling tears slip down her cheeks.
They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, and Yn dreamed of a future filled with more nights like this—more laughter, more love, more moments of perfect contentment.
Because she'd found her person. And she was never letting him go.
Taglist -> @wintermoonly @libbyqypu @ifeelsthisway
