Behind Closed Doors ~ John Logan x Fem!Reader - (Part Two)
Synopsis: Behind closed doors, Logan kisses you like you're the only thing he wants.
The problem is, being private feels a little too much like being hidden.
When you unexpectedly show up at a Briar athlete house party, and Logan suddenly acts like he barely knows you, every insecurity you've tried to ignore comes crashing down at once and Logan is forced to realize your relationship stopped being casual long before either of you admitted it.
Pairing: John Logan x reader
Part one here: read here.
My other Logan fic: read here.
A/N: Here's the last and final part of this two-part story! Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you want to see more Logan stories :)
The walk back to your dorm was brutal. You sent Cassie a text to let her know you left and told her to stay and have fun. She let you know she was spending the night with Beau.
When you got back to your dorm, you changed into your pajamas and scrubbed off the makeup you’d barely wanted to wear In the first place. Then, you crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling.
Your phone buzzed once. Logan. You ignored it.
Then, it buzzed again, and again.
Logan: please talk to me
Logan: y/n
Logan: I’m outside
Your stomach dropped. You sat up too fast, nearly tangling yourself in blankets. You crossed the room and pulled the curtain aside, which showed the front walkway.
There he was.
He was standing outside of your dorm in his thin gray long-sleeved shirt, with his phone in one hand and another shoved in his pocket.
You stared at him for a second. Then, your phone buzzed again.
Logan: please
You hated him a little for how impossible it was not to care. A few minutes later, you had changed and you were slipping quietly out of the entrance of the dorm building.
He looked up immediately when the door opened. Relief hit his face so fast and so honestly that your chest clenched again.
Neither of you spoke for a second. It was late, and it was cold.
You crossed your arms tightly over yourself.
“You’re gonna get sick standing out here.”
He looked at you.
“I deserve worse than getting sick.”
You looked away immediately because that almost made you smile. Almost. Logan stepped closer carefully.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
You swallowed hard. “I know.”
“No, I really need you to understand this,” he said. “I wasn’t embarrassed of you.”
You looked at him. “That’s what it felt like.”
Logan nodded immediately. “I know, and I hate that.”
Silence stretched for a second.
“I saw you walk into the party and I completely panicked.”
You blinked slowly.
“Why?”
Logan laughed softly once, frustrated at himself.
“Because I didn't want to share that part of myself with anyone else yet, share you with anyone else yet.”
Your mouth twitched slightly, and he noticed immediately.
“Okay, there. That’s progress.”
“Don’t get too excited.”
Some tension eased visibly from his shoulders anyway.
“What I mean is,” he looked at her carefully, “When it’s just us, I don’t think. I just kiss you, touch you, want you around all of the time,” a quiet breath left him. “It feels easy.”
Your heart thudded painfully.
“And tonight, you were standing in the middle of my house looking…” he stopped.
“Looking what?”
Logan’s eyes held yours.
“Fucking incredible. Important.”
You forgot how to breath for a second.
“I realized everyone else could see you too,” he admitted quietly, “and it scared the hell out of me how much I cared about that.”
You stared at him.
“You cared about what people thought?”
“No,” he said immediately. “I cared because suddenly this thing with you stopped feeling casual.”
Your chest tightened. He stepped closer to you, carefully.
“So instead of acting normal, I acted like an idiot.”
You laughed softly. “Little bit.”
“Massive bit.”
That pulled a real laugh from you this time. The relief on Logan’s face nearly destroyed you.
“There you are,” he murmured.
You shook your head slightly. “You really hurt my feelings tonight.”
The honesty in your voice wiped the smile from his face immediately. “I know.”
“No, like…” you looked away briefly, “I already feel weird there sometimes, Like I don’t fit with your world or the girls you usually—”
“Stop.”
You blinked. Logan had fully stepped into your space now, enough that you could feel the warmth rolling off of him in the cold night air.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“That thing where you act like those girls are somehow better than you.”
You let out a quiet disbelieving laugh. “John.”
“I’m serious.”
His hand lifted carefully to your jaw then, thumb brushing softly beneath your cheekbone.
“You walk into a room and I forget how to act,” he said. “Do you understand how insane that is for me?”
Your heart fluttered, and he looked almost frustrated by his own honesty.
“I couldn’t focus on anything after you started talking to that guy.”
You stared at him, and suddenly, all of the hurt from earlier mixed dangerously with hope. Logan’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth.
“I really like you,” he admitted quietly.
Your breath caught, and neither of you moved.
“Can I kiss you now, or are you still mad at me?” he asked softly.
You tried to stay offended, really. But Logan standing outside of your dorm looking wrecked over hurting your feelings was making it extremely difficult.
“A little mad,” she admitted.
He nodded, “Fair.”
Your eyes dropped to his mouth before you could stop yourself. That was all the permission he needed as his hand slid gently into your hair and kissed you. It was like he knew exactly how close he’d come to breaking something fragile between them tonight.
You melted against him anyway, because this, this version of John Logan, the honest one, was impossible not to love.
He kissed like he was trying to fix something. Slow at first, careful. His hand was warm against the side of your neck as the cold night air curled around you both.
You hated how quickly your anger unraveled when he kissed you like this. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
You shivered, answering for him.
“You wanna go inside?” he asked.
You hesitated because letting him into your dorm room right now felt dangerous in a completely different way.
Logan must have seen the hesitation on your face because his expression softened immediately.
“I can leave if you want.”
The fact that he sounded sincere about it made something inside of her melt. You shook your head once.
“No, come upstairs.”
The relief on his face was almost embarrassing. He followed you inside quietly. You became hyperaware of everything suddenly. Like the closeness of him being you, the fact that you’d never actually brought him here before, and the way this felt more vulnerable than being in his bed ever had.
Your dorm room was small. There were string lights, books stacked absolutely everywhere, and a knitted blanket tossed across your desk chair.
Logan stepped inside and immediately looked around with open curiosity. You suddenly felt very self-conscious about it.
“It’s completely you,” he said.
That should have not affected you as much as it did. You shut the door quietly behind you as he stood in the middle of the room, looking around.
His gaze shifted back toward you, and something changed in his expression suddenly. The room felt smaller. Your pulse kicked hard when Logan crossed toward you slowly.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I’ve spent weeks convincing myself this was casual.”
You swallowed hard.
“And?”
He stopped directly in front of you.
“Pretty sure casual doesn’t involve standing outside of someone’s dorm feeling like your chest got ripped open.”
His hand slid slowly along your waist.
“I really am sorry,” he said quietly.
You looked down briefly. “I know.”
“You looked at me tonight in a way that I've never seen before. Like I really hurt you,” his jaw tightened slightly, “I hated that.”
You leaned against your desk slightly, fingers twisting nervously in your sleeve.
“You really don’t realize what it’s like standing in that house watching girls who actually fit there flirt with you.”
Logan stared at you like the sentence itself offended him.
“You fit with me.”
The words came instantly.
“You fit next to me, you fit in my life.”
You felt heat flood your face. Logan’s fingers caught your chin gently.
“Hey.”
Your eyes lifted slowly.
“You know what I really thought when I saw you tonight?”
You shook your head.
“That outfit is gonna kill me.”
A startled laugh escaped her as he grinned.
“I’m serious. You walked in looking all nervous and pretty and I swear my brain stopped functioning.”
You groaned quietly, covering your face with both hands. “Please stop talking.”
“Nope.”
“This is humiliating.”
“You’re blushing.”
“That’s your fault.”
He laughed softly and then pulled your hands away from your face.
“You really thought I didn’t mean it?” he asked quietly. You hesitated too long.
“Oh, baby.”
The nickname nearly killed you on impact. Before you could recover, Logan pulled you gently into him, arms wrapping warm and solid around you.
“I meant every kiss. Every time I asked you to stay, every time I couldn’t stop touching you.” He murmured.
This. This is what you’d wanted. Just reassurance that you hadn’t imagined how real this felt between you. Logan tilted your face up gently before kissing you again, and this time, you kissed him back without holding anything careful anymore.
--
Rain tapped lightly against your dorm window as you woke slowly. Logan was asleep beside you, like he belonged there.
You stayed still for a moment, just looking at him. He had one arm wrapped securely around your waist, his face half-buried into your shoulder, and one of your pillows beneath his arm.
As if sensing you were awake, he shifted closer automatically before even opening his eyes. Then, he opened one eye.
“Hi,” he said sleepily.
“Good morning to you, too.”
He groaned quietly and buried his face deeper into your neck.
“What time is it?”
“Just past seven.”
“Ugh,” he groaned.
“You have practice, right?”
“Don’t remind me.”
His grip tightened on you.
“You’re clingy,” you said.
“Mhmm,” he murmured.
He finally lifted his head enough to look at you properly. His hair was all over the place, sleep marks faint against his cheek, but still unfairly hot somehow.
Your fingers slid automatically into his hair, and he immediately closed his eyes again.
“Oh, that’s nice,” he moaned.
“You know,” he murmured, “I really like it here.”
“In my dorm?”
“In your space,” his thumb brushed softly against your hip, “feels like you.”
You hid your face briefly against his shoulder as he laughed quietly.
“Baby, you’re blushing again.”
A few minutes later, after much complaining from Logan about leaving the bed, you both got dressed.
You pulled on leggings and one of your sweaters while Logan sat half-awake on the edge of your bed. You leaned down to kiss him.
“I’m going to go to the library this morning,” you informed him.
“Can I walk you there?” You were surprised.
“Your practice is in the complete opposite direction.”
“I want to walk you there,” he insisted again.
“Okay,” you agreed.
The morning air was cold and crisp, and being a Saturday, the campus was quiet. Students around you moved in sleepy little groups while he walked beside you with one hand shoved into his pocket while the other was brushing lazily against yours every few steps.
You noticed it immediately. Yesterday, he would’ve hesitated. Today, he kept touching you without thinking about it.
“You’re smiling again,” Logan said.
You looked away quickly. “No I’m not.”
Before either of you could answer, a familiar voice called from across the quad.
“Well, well.”
Garrett Graham.
Your stomach tightened automatically. Garrett jogged toward you both with Dean beside him, carrying water bottles and looking far too awake.
Dean’s eyes flickered between you and Logan once, before immediately narrowing.
“Oh my God,” he said slowly.
You felt Logan glance at you briefly. A tiny beat of tension.
Yesterday, this would’ve been the moment he pulled away. The moment he got careful.
You braced for it instinctively.
Instead, Logan reached for your hand. It was natural, like he didn’t even think about it before intertwining your fingers. Your breath caught so hard it almost hurt.
Garrett immediately started grinning. “There it is,” Garrett said smugly.
“Shut up,” Logan muttered.
Dean looked delighted, “I KNEW IT.”
You stared down at your joined hands for half a second longer than necessary. Logan squeezed your hands once gently before looking back at Garrett.
Garrett snorted, “Brother, you’re not as sly as you think. We know that you’ve had something going on with Y/N.”
You nearly choked.
Dean laughed loudly. “You think we didn’t notice you staring at her all night at the party last night? We tried to talk to you about the game coming up, and you barely said anything because you were too busy staring at her.”
A faint flush crept up the back of Logan’s neck.
“Okay,” he muttered, “everyone relax.”
Garrett and Dean both laughed. Logan squeezed your hand again.
Dean pointed between them, “So are you guys, like, official now? Or…”
You laughed softly before you could stop yourself. Logan looked over at you immediately at the sound.
“How this for an answer?”
Then, without even thinking about it, he leaned down and kissed you right there, in the middle of campus.
Your heart turned over as Garrett and Dean whistled.
Check Engine Light // John Logan x Fem!Reader - [Chapter Six]
Synopsis: What starts as a simple repair turns into late-night diner runs, coffee deliveries to the garage, and a growing attachment neither of you expects. Logan likes that you talk too much when you're nervous. You like that Logan becomes softer when nobody’s watching.
But as pressure mounts with Logan's hockey career and real life starts pulling at you from opposite directions, you begin to wonder if you’re just a temporary stop in Logan’s fast-moving future.
And Logan realizes far too late that somewhere between oil stains and midnight drives, you became the closest thing he’s ever had to home.
Pairings: John Logan x Fem!Reader
A/N: A little short fluff - gotta build the foundation so the plot makes more sense later. Enjoy! :)
Three weeks after the hockey game, you realized you had accidentally developed routines around John Logan.
Routines like stopping at the garage after class “for ten minutes” and leaving three hours later. Like expecting a good morning text before you were fully awake. Like automatically reaching for his hand whenever you walked anywhere together. And, knowing which nights he stayed late at the garage.
It had happened quietly.
“Hi, Y/N,” Jeff said, as you looked up from your textbook, where you sat at the counter at Logan & Sons.
“Leave her alone,” Logan called from beneath the hood.
You smiled. The garage had become your favorite place without you noticing when it happened. Not because of the cars, of course, but because of Logan.
The second he would spot you arrive at the garage with a coffee in hand, his whole face softened automatically now. It was like seeing you reset something in him after a long day.
Logan slid out from beneath the car, grease smudged across one forearm, and an old Briar t-shirt stretched across his shoulders.
Your stomach flipped every time you saw him.
“You done pretending to study?” he asked, walking toward you.
“…maybe.”
“Thought so.”
He stepped between your knees where you sat on the counter, one hand resting automatically against your thigh.
“You smell like motor oil,” you informed him softly.
“And you keep stealing my hoodies.”
“That’s unrelated.”
A grin tugged at his mouth before he leaned down and kissed you. Jeff gagged dramatically somewhere behind you.
“Workplace misconduct,” he yelled. Without breaking the kiss, Logan lifted his middle finger in Jeff’s direction.
You laughed against Logan’s mouth, and he smiled into the kiss in a way that you’re your chest ache.
Logan casually brushed his thumb against your knee. Three weeks ago, touches like that made you spiral internally. Now? Now they happened constantly. Not in a settled, years-long relationship way, but in a we physically cannot stop touching each other way.
Later that night, you ended up at Logan’s place again after the garage closed. At this point, you’d been there enough that Garrett greeted you with, “Thank God, somebody responsible is here.”
You blinked. “What happened?”
Dean pointed toward the kitchen.
“Tucker tried making a turkey and almost set the house on fire.”
“I said I was sorry!” Tucker yelled from deeper inside the house.
Logan dropped onto the couch beside you while Garrett handed you a drink. Just like that, you had settled naturally into the chaos of the house.
Just a few weeks ago, these people had just been hockey players; strangers. Now, Dean stole fries off your plate like an annoying older brother. Life was weird.
You curled one leg beneath yourself on the couch while Logan’s fingers found yours beside your leg on the couch. You looked down briefly at your intertwined hands and felt your chest tighten softly.
Later, after the boys disappeared upstairs one by one, you and Logan stayed downstairs alone. The house was quiet, rain was tapping lightly against the windows again.
His hand moved gently against your jaw, and then he kissed you again. You kissed him harder immediately because you suddenly felt too full of feeling to do anything else.
All you could do was focus on Logan’s hands, his mouth, and the overwhelming feeling that you were falling for him much faster than you knew how to stop.
He kissed just below your ear absentmindedly, sending heat immediately spiraling down your spine. Logan noticed, of course, he did. His mouth brushed your skin again, slower this time.
“Logan.”
“Hmm?”
“That was intentional.”
A quiet laugh vibrated against your shoulder. “Yeah.”
Thunder cracked loudly outside, but you barely heard it now because Logan’s hands had tightened slightly against your waist, and suddenly all you could focus on was his mouth against your neck, the warmth of him against you, and the fact that you were alone.
The kiss became heated almost embarrassingly fast. Logan lifted you onto his lap without breaking the kiss, and you laughed breathlessly against his mouth.
“You’re very determined right now.”
“You noticed?”
His hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt, carefully, like he was still giving you every chance to stop this. You kissed him harder in response. Logan made a low sound against your mouth that nearly destroyed your emotional stability entirely.
At one point, Logan rested his forehead lightly against yours.
“Come upstairs with me,” he whispered.
You kissed him once softly before whispering back, “Okay.”
The two of you made your way upstairs, Logan’s fingers tangled through yours. By the time Logan closed his bedroom door behind you, your pulse was racing hard enough that you were pretty sure he could hear it.
You reached for him this time, pulling him into another kiss. When Logan kissed you back, one hand gentle against your waist while the other brushed softly through your hair, you realized she’d never felt safer with another person.
The rest unfolded naturally after that: hungry kisses, soft laughter, whispered reassurances, and hands learning each other carefully. Nothing rushed, nothing careless, just want and trust and the overwhelming feeling of finally letting yourself have something you’d already fallen into emotionally.
Later, you lay curled against Logan beneath the blankets while rain tapped softly against the windows.
His fingers traced slow patterns against your bare shoulder absentmindedly. You tilted your head slightly to look up to him in the dim room. Logan was already watching you.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
You laughed softly against his chest. You looked at him for one suspended second, then answered honestly.
“Yes.”
For the first time in a long time, you meant it completely.
--
You woke up slowly the next morning. Sunlight was streaming through the window, and you could hear Dean yelling.
Honestly, at this point, it was becoming a pattern. You felt Logan stir underneath you.
You smiled faintly and tilted your head up. That was a big mistake.
Morning Logan was unfairly attractive. His dark brown curls were messy, his eyes were still heavy with sleep, and he had a soft expression on his face as he looked at you.
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
“You’re staring.”
“Yeah.”
You shifted slightly closer beneath the blankets, one hand sliding lazily across his chest while he brushed his thumb slowly against your naked hip.
“You know what’s concerning?” you murmured sleepily.
“What?”
“I think I sleep better here.”
Something in his expression softened even further.
“You definitely sleep better here,” he said quietly.
Before you could spiral properly, the bedroom door burst open. Dean stopped mid-step and then looked between you dramatically.
“Oh, this is revolting.”
You buried your face immediately into Logan’s shoulder as you clutched the blanket higher up, and Logan groaned.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?”
“Nope.”
“Get out,” Logan said.
Dean grinned.
“Breakfast in ten, Loverboy’s on breakfast duty.”
Then, he disappeared. Logan looked exhausted already.
“You live with actual chaos,” you laughed.
“Yep.”
“I love it here, though.”
“You fit here,” Logan said, and leaned down to kiss you.
“Let’s get up, we have breakfast to make!” you said, breaking the kiss as Logan laughed.
Breakfast downstairs was chaotic. Logan cooked, as Tucker supervised. Dean criticized as he leaned on the counter, and Garrett ate some of the ingredients before they made it into the pan.
You sat on a barstool near the kitchen, watching everything unfold. The domesticity of it all felt deeply dangerous.
After breakfast, Logan drove you back to campus so you could change before your afternoon class.
“We saw each other literally all night and this morning, and I’m annoyed I have class,” you blurted as you pulled up outside your dorm.
A grin spread slowly across his face.
“You’re way too pleased by that,” you said.
“I’m choosing to think it’s romantic.”
You laughed softly and unbuckled your seatbelt.
He leaned over and kissed you again.
“Alright, I should probably go,” you said, kissing him one last time.
He laughed as you forced yourself out of the truck before you ruined your GPA permanently. The second you shut the door and were a few steps away, Logan rolled down the window.
“Y/N.”
You turned back immediately. He was leaning across the console.
“You forgot something.”
You frowned slightly. “What?”
Logan crooked one finger toward himself. You laughed helplessly but stepped closer again anyway. The second you leaned near the window, he kissed you quickly.
You stared at him in betrayal.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You like me.”
You laughed, stepping back, as a grin took over his entire face.
You knew, just from the way Logan looked at you or touched you, that if he’d asked, you’d skip your entire day and forget the outside world existed entirely.
The realization sent warmth flooding through you immediately.
And the way Logan looked at you afterward, nearly convinced you that you were already halfway in love with him.
summary: Dating John Logan in secret would be easier if he knew how to act normal around you. Unfortunately, Logan is hopelessly in love, terrible at hiding it, and one affectionate comment away from exposing your entire relationship.
pairings: john logan x FIGURE SKATER!reader
RIN'S NOTE: i watch the show for dean and garret. but the one who caught my heart? John the freaking logan, he is such a yearner!! Ugh.
【WC 2k】
The first rule of dating John Logan was simple.
Never let him hold your hand in public. Not because he wouldn’t.
God, if it were up to Logan, he’d probably walk around campus announcing it with a megaphone.
The problem was that John Logan was impossible to miss. Hockey star. Campus heartthrob. Professional flirt. Owner of an unfortunately charming smile that seemed capable of making half the female population lose their minds.
And you?
You preferred quiet.
You liked empty skating rinks before sunrise, oversized sweaters, and slipping through campus unnoticed. Attention made your skin crawl in ways you could never properly explain, and being publicly attached to someone like Logan sounded less like romance and more like a nightmare.
So your relationship stayed private.
Mostly.
Which was harder than it sounded when your boyfriend was John Logan.
Because John Logan loved loudly. Even when he tried not to.
“Logan.”
“No.”
You sighed, adjusting the strap of your skate bag over your shoulder while Logan leaned casually against your dorm room doorway.
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“Yes, I do.” Logan grinned lazily. “You’re about to tell me not to kiss you goodbye in the hallway.”
“…Because the hockey team is literally downstairs.”
“Counterargument.”
He stepped forward suddenly, large hands sliding around your waist before you could escape. You immediately hissed, “John.”
His grin widened.
“You only use my first name when you’re stressed. It’s adorable.”
“Some of us value survival.”
“Some of us,” he murmured dramatically, “are being denied affection.”
Despite yourself, a laugh escaped you. Logan looked unbearably pleased about it.
God. That was another problem.
He looked at you like every smile was something he personally accomplished.
“You’re impossible,” you muttered.
“And yet,” Logan said thoughtfully, leaning closer, “you’re still dating me. Curious.”
Before you could respond, voices echoed faintly from downstairs. Hockey players. Your eyes widened immediately.
“Logan.”
“I hear them.”
“Then MOVE.”
He laughed under his breath but finally stepped back, hands lingering at your waist for one last second before letting go.
And even then, he still looked offended.
“This relationship is so hard for me,” he informed you solemnly.
“You’re so dramatic.”
“You’re withholding public boyfriend privileges.”
“That is not a real thing.”
“It should be.”
A knock suddenly sounded somewhere downstairs. Then Garrett’s voice. “Logan! Are you alive or did you finally die flirting?”
You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh.Logan looked deeply betrayed. “You know,” he said quietly, “the lack of support in this relationship is devastating.”
“Go downstairs.”
“You wound me.”
“Logan.”
“Okay, okay.”
But before leaving, he leaned in quickly and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. Gentle. Automatic. Like he couldn’t leave without doing it.
Your chest tightened immediately. And Logan completely unfairly noticed. That smug grin appeared again.
“There she is,” he murmured. You narrowed your eyes.
“Go away.”
“See you tonight, sweetheart.”
He lean again to kiss your lips this time.
Then he disappeared downstairs like nothing happened. Meanwhile you stood frozen in your dorm doorway trying not to smile like an idiot. Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
Logan was trying very hard to respect your boundaries. Really. He deserved credit for that.
Because keeping your relationship private might’ve been physically painful for him. Not because he was embarrassed.
The opposite, actually.
He liked you so much it was becoming a legitimate issue. And Logan had never exactly been subtle about his feelings. Unfortunately for him, subtlety was now required.
Which meant he had to settle for smaller things.
Watching your skating practices from the highest row in the rink where fewer people noticed him. Sneaking you coffee before your early morning sessions. Texting you terrible pickup lines during class. Current favorite:
Are you made of ice? Because you make me fall constantly.
You had responded with:
I’m blocking your number.
Which, to Logan, translated directly into marriage.
“Dude.” Logan blinked, dragged abruptly back to reality. Garrett was staring at him from across the cafeteria table.
“…What?” Logan asked.
“You’re smiling at your phone like a divorced dad learning Facebook.”
Dean snorted into his drink. Logan immediately locked his phone. “Mind your business.” Garrett narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“No, seriously. What’s going on with you lately?”
“Nothing.”
“You disappeared for three hours last night.”
“I have hobbies.”
“Tinder doesn’t count as a hobby.”
Logan looked offended.
“For your information, I’m deeply emotionally unavailable now.”
Dean blinked once.
“…That sounded weirdly sincere.”
Shit.
Logan grabbed his drink quickly. Too quickly. Because Garrett suddenly sat up straighter.
“Oh my god.”
Logan froze internally.
“You’re dating someone.”
Dean nearly choked laughing. “No way.” Logan scoffed immediately.
“You guys are insane.”
“Logan,” Garrett said slowly, “you’ve checked your phone fourteen times in two minutes.”
“That’s called having friends.”
“You hate people.”
“Valid point.”
Garrett leaned forward dramatically.
“Who is she?”
“Nobody.”
“AHA.”
Logan groaned.
“You sound like a conspiracy theorist.”
“Because you’re acting suspicious!” Garrett accused. “You keep disappearing at night, smiling at your phone, and wearing actual cologne to class.” Dean pointed at him immediately.
“The cologne thing is huge.” Logan rubbed a tired hand down his face.
The worst part? He wanted to tell them.
He wanted to talk about you constantly. Wanted to mention how pretty you looked after skating practice when your cheeks turned pink from the cold. Wanted to brag about how talented you were. Wanted to tell people about the way you laughed when you got sleepy.
But he also knew how anxious public attention made you.
So instead, he shrugged lazily.
“You guys are dramatic.”
Garrett stared at him.
“…You’re in love.”
Logan nearly spit out his drink.
“WHAT?”
Dean started wheezing.
“Oh my god, he totally is.”
“I hate both of you.”
“Who is she?” Garrett demanded.
Logan stood abruptly.
“Enjoy your lunch.”
“LOGAN.”
Too late. He was already leaving.
Mostly because if he stayed another minute, he might accidentally start talking about you.
And once Logan started talking about you, he genuinely wasn’t sure he’d ever stop.
The ice rink was nearly empty by the time your evening practice ended. Only a few overhead lights remained on, casting soft reflections across the ice. You glided toward the rink barrier slowly, exhausted but satisfied after landing your final combination successfully.
Then you spotted him immediately. Of course.
John Logan sat sprawled dramatically across the bleachers wearing a backward baseball cap and Bruins hoodie, one arm stretched behind his head while the other held a cup carrier from the campus café.
The second he noticed you looking, his entire face lit up. Like you were the best thing he’d seen all day.
Your heart did that stupid little thing again. “You’re late,” you called lightly while stepping off the ice. Logan gasped. “I bring beverages and this is the thanks I get?”
“You’re ten minutes late.”
“I was fighting for my life in line.”
“You literally play hockey.”
“Exactly. I’m fragile.”
You laughed softly while walking toward him. Logan’s expression changed instantly at the sound. Softer. Warmer.
God.
Sometimes the way he looked at you felt unfair. You dropped your skate guards onto the bench beside him.
“Did you watch the whole practice?”
“Obviously.”
“You had practice too.”
“I escaped early.”
“John.”
“What?” he defended immediately. “My girlfriend was doing cool spinny things.”
“That is not figure skating terminology.”
“It should be.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. Logan handed you one of the drinks. “Hot chocolate,” he announced proudly. Your expression softened immediately.
“You remembered.”
“Sweetheart, I remember everything about you.”
And just like that, your brain stopped functioning. The worst part was that he said things like that casually. Like he had no idea the effect they had on you. Meanwhile Logan was busy watching your expression change with obvious satisfaction. Cute. Ridiculously cute.
He loved making you flustered. Probably too much.
You sat beside him carefully, shoulders brushing. Logan relaxed instantly at the contact. Small things affected him embarrassingly fast when it came to you. He took a sip of his coffee before speaking again.
“You looked incredible out there tonight.”
You stared down at your cup. “I messed up the landing during the second pass.”
“You landed it the next time.”
“Still.”
Logan frowned slightly. He hated when you did that. Minimized yourself. Because from where he sat every single practice, you looked unreal. Beautiful. Focused.
Completely in your element. Sometimes watching you skate actually stole the words out of his mouth.
Which was saying something, considering he normally never shut up. “You know,” Logan said slowly, “normal people would just accept compliments.”
“I do accept compliments.”
“No, you politely fight them.”
“That’s not true.”
“Last week I called you gorgeous and you said, ‘probably the lighting.’”
You looked embarrassed immediately. Logan grinned.
“There it is.”
“You’re annoying.”
“And yet deeply lovable.”
“That remains unconfirmed.”
Logan placed a dramatic hand against his chest. “You say the cruelest things to me.”
Another laugh. God. I love it so much.
He’d do literally anything to keep hearing that sound. The rink settled into comfortable silence afterward. Your head rested lightly against Logan’s shoulder while he absentmindedly played with your fingers.
No audience. No hiding. Just the two of you.
This was his favorite version of your relationship. The quiet parts. The moments nobody else saw.
“You know,” Logan murmured eventually, “I still think it’s insane nobody knows about us.” You tensed slightly beside him. Immediately, Logan regretted bringing it up.
“Hey.” His voice softened.
“You know I don’t care, right?”
You looked down at your hands.
“I know.”
“No, seriously.” Logan turned toward you more fully now.
“I’d date you in secret forever if that’s what makes you comfortable.”
Your chest tightened painfully. Because he meant it. There wasn’t even hesitation in his voice.
“You don’t ever get tired of hiding?” you asked quietly. Logan blinked.
“Hiding you?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Baby, I’m barely succeeding.”
You laughed softly.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Logan’s thumb brushed gently across your knuckles.
“Yeah, I wanna tell people sometimes,” he admitted. “Mostly because I think you’re amazing and I have absolutely zero self-control around you.”
“That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Thank you.”
“But…”
His expression softened again. “If being private makes you feel safe, then that matters more.”
You stared at him quietly. And Logan, poor guy, immediately started overthinking.
Too much?
Too cheesy?
Then suddenly you leaned forward and kissed him. Soft. Quick. But enough to completely derail his brain. Logan blinked after you pulled away.
“…Whoa.”
You laughed immediately. “What?”
“I just had a religious experience.”
“Oh my god.”
“I’m serious.” He pointed at you accusingly. “You can’t just do that without warning.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And deeply in love with you.”
The words slipped out naturally. Effortlessly. Like breathing. And Logan froze the second he realized what he said.
Oh. Shit.
Your eyes widened slightly. The rink suddenly felt very quiet. Logan opened his mouth immediately.
“I mean—not that I—well, obviously I do, but I wasn’t trying to—”
You started laughing. Actually laughing. Logan looked deeply offended.
“I’m emotionally vulnerable right now.”
“You’re rambling.”
“You make me nervous.”
That only made you laugh harder. Hopelessly in love. That’s what this was doing to him.
And honestly?
Logan didn’t mind one bit. Eventually your laughter softened into something gentler.
You reached over and fixed the brim of his backwards cap carefully.
Cute. Everything you did was cute. It was becoming a serious condition.
“You know,” you said quietly, “I think being private is easier because this feels… ours.”
Logan’s expression softened instantly. The teasing disappeared. Just sincerity left.
“Yeah?” You nodded.
“No pressure. No people watching. Just you and me.” Something warm settled heavily in Logan’s chest.
God. He loved you. Hopelessly. Ridiculously. Completely.
And maybe someday the rest of the world would know. But for now?
This was enough. The empty rink. Your hand in his. Your head against his shoulder.
And the way you smiled at him like he was already home.
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