lacy, oh lacy (part 3)
A/N: before we get into it, yall have just been so sweet in the comments and my messages that i burnt the candle all night for you on this part. it’s a lil different, but i think it’s an important part to the story and was a bit of a challenge to write. so if it sucks pls pretend it doesn’t lmao. just know this part comes with a lil forehead kiss 💋 please enjoy (mostly) a logan POV (also yes, there will be a part 4 and it will be the final part and the pop showcase)
summary: in which john logan realizes just how deeply things run between you two and that pushing it down and pretending something’s not there leaves it with nowhere to go unless he takes a chance
pairing: john logan x bestfriend!reader
wc: ~7.1k
tw: mentions of alcoholism, family dynamics, swearing, insecurity, doubt, angst, at this point i fear they may be idiotstolovers
Part One Part Two
Logan POV (hehehe)
John Logan was completely fucked. And he knew it.
Ever since he saw you and Tucker in the kitchen, touching hands in the slightest way, he knew he was a jackass because his first instinct was to threaten Tucker to never touch you again lest he wanted to taste the boards during every hockey practice from now until the end of time.
Jealousy surged within him, flaring up and rearing its ugly head as he realized that that was not a normal reaction. Logan could feel his heart rate pick up, his eyes widening at the feeling and his breathing hitched for a moment as he tried to rationalize.
You were his best friend. Tucker was also one of his best friends, one of his teammates even.
You were allowed to like whoever, it was technically none of Logan’s business. In his head he knew that. He understood that there were boundaries and he had absolutely no right to dictate your personal business and who you chose to spend time with.
However, that did very little to stop the pang in his heart as he watched you two in the kitchen. Little by little, realizations had started to trickle into his mind, his thoughts began racing and reeling and making him practically dizzy as too much started making sense too fast.
You never talked about guys, like ever. Not that Logan wanted you to start talking about other guys, he just never really quite knew for certain where he stood with you.
Logan didn’t want to think about another guy with you, it made his jaw tick and a vein in his left temple start to throb at the mere thought of anyone else doing the things he liked doing for you.
The things he liked doing for you.
You never asked a lot of him, something that Logan had figured out pretty early into the friendship. You would feel bad and try and make it up to him despite him reassuring you over and over again that he didn’t mind, he liked being there for you when you needed him.
He could remember there was a time last summer when the weather had an unexpected heat wave for so early in the season. The air conditioning in your apartment had decided that it had enough and just stopped working, making your apartment a live-in sauna that you’d become unable to tolerate any longer. And Logan being the gentleman he was, encouraged you to come stay with him in the hockey house with him after he had declared the A/C to be busted, and something he supposedly didn’t have the tools or knowledge to fix.
Flashback
Both of you had decided to stay at Briar over the summer, neither one of you was super eager to go home to your families and Logan conveniently had summer conditioning. Meanwhile, you had a paid internship working with one of your favorite Music Comp professors. You chose to stay because it was a great networking opportunity as well as a chance to work on some of your compositions.
Logan was leaving the weight room one day and reading through his messages for any handyman requests when your caller ID popped up on his screen.
He smiled down at his phone before pressing the ‘accept’ button and lifting it to his ear.
“Hey superstar, what are you up to?”
“John Logan,” your voice came through the speaker, a bit too serious for his liking.
“Whoaa, the full name. Whatever I did, it wasn’t me it was Dean,” Logan joked, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder as he approached the parking lot.
“Well then tell Dean I am coming for his ass for breaking my air conditioning during the week hell found a home in Briar,” your tone was exasperated, Logan could tell you were at your wit’s end even over the phone.
“You have such a way with words. I will however not be telling Dean that because he’d probably get excited,” Logan laughed as he reached his truck.
He switched his phone to the other ear as he grabbed his keys from his pocket and threw his gear in the backseat, checking to make sure his toolbox was in the bed of his truck before sliding into the front seat to drive over to your place.
“Logannnnn,” your whine came through as he put his phone on speaker, and set it down on his console so he could shift his truck into drive.
“I’m already on my way over, superstar. Try not to melt in the mean time.”
Your soft giggle filled the silence, the melodic sound filling his ears and putting a wide grin on the man’s face. On the days that it felt like nothing was going right, Logan wished he could put the sound on repeat.
Not that he’d ever admit that.
———
Upon walking into your apartment, Logan realized two things immediately.
1. It was somehow hotter in here than it was outside.
2. You were actually probably seconds away from melting.
When you greeted Logan at the door, he could see the sweat forming on your forehead, one little drop dripping down onto your cheeks which were flushed from the heat. Your eyes even seemed brighter than usual, whether that was because of the warmth permeating the air or just because you were you were on the verge of absolutely losing your mind, Logan wasn’t sure. Despite this, you looked absolutely radiant, something Logan secretly tucked away into the back of his mind.
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Logan stated as he pulled away from your apartments air-conditioning unit.
“Logan, I swear to god-“ your head was in your hands, clearly frustrated and completely over the whole situation.
Logan turned to look at you completely as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms as he continued to speak.
“So the bad news is, your landlord is going to have to replace a part and it’s not something I can just fix at the moment for you,” Logan stated plainly.
You groaned and threw your head back in mounting frustration, something Logan could only smile at as he shook his head.
“But the good news is, until it gets fixed I have a solution. Come stay at the house, our air conditioning is working perfectly fine and the rest of the guys are are in and out for the summer so it’s mostly just me there,” Logan finished.
“You can’t be serious, John,” you scoffed.
Damn did he love how it sounded when you used his first name.
“I am dead serious. I’m in and out for jobs and training, you’ll have your internship. Then we can hang out when we’re free. It’s not that different from usual. Think of it like a sleepover,” Logan grinned.
You let out a full laugh, Logan’s eyes flicking to your mouth and memorizing the way you brightened and lit up the room around you.
In that moment, Logan vowed to himself that he wanted to be the main reason you laughed like that.
“John Logan did you seriously just invite me for a sleepover in your big manly hockey player house?” You asked playfully, shifting slightly closer to where Logan stood.
Logan could’ve sworn the room got impossibly warmer.
Must’ve been that damn A/C.
“Is that a yes?”
You rolled your eyes but the way your smile spread so wide Logan was sure your cheeks would start to hurt if they stayed like that betrayed you.
“Fine, help me pack a bag.”
It was Logan’s turn to grin as he sat on your bed, not actually helping but cracking jokes as you giggled and packed a few days worth of clothes into your bag. Logan could feel some kind of warmth in his chest spreading and igniting every fiber of his body down to his toes. He couldn’t quite place the feeling.
Definitely that damn A/C.
By the time you were packed and ready to leave, Logan was sure he had sweated enough to warrant an extended and nice, cold shower. He could only imagine how you felt, having been stuck in your oven of an apartment longer than he had. He waited for you in the hallway, as you set your bags and guitar case down to lock your door before leaving.
Not willing to give you a second to protest, Logan quickly swept in and grabbed both your bags and guitar case and swing them over his shoulder.
Something like betrayal flickered over your features as you noticed.
“John.”
“Nope.”
“John Logan.”
“Better luck next time.”
“I swear to god.”
“Let me know if he answers.”
You smacked his chest lightly.
“Let me carry my shit,” you whined.
Logan grinned and turned to keep walking down the hall.
“Not happening, superstar.”
“Logan, you are such a stubborn ass! I swear-“ you chased after him.
You and Logan bickered all the way down to his truck and on the drive to the house and especially when he insisted that you take the bathroom for a shower first.
You stood there defeated as Logan insisted he would refuse to shower until after you had the chance and would continue to sit in body odor and post-training sweat. You begrudgingly grabbed a towel from his closet and gave him the finger as you all but stomped into the bathroom, the door clicking behind you and barring you from witnessing Logan staring at the door you disappeared behind. A small, lazy upturn of his lips grew wider as he shook his head and set out one of his hockey t-shirts for you on the bed.
He headed downstairs to start making dinner, no where near Tucker’s aficionado for cooking but not entirely hopeless either. He was so busy preparing something he hoped wasn’t terrible that he didn’t hear the shower shut off upstairs or the quiet patter of your feet downstairs until you came up behind where he stood stirring pasta at the stove.
He also definitely did not expect the way your arms tenderly wrapped around him, encircling his waist and the way you tentatively leaned your head against his back, as if unsure if it was okay. Logan could feel his shoulders soften instantly, reveling in the feeling as he was sure you’d be able to hear how fast his heart was beating out of his chest and would pull away before he was ready for you to let go.
“Thank you, John. You know you don’t always have to come to my rescue every time I call,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“You hardly ever call and we have this conversation every time, Y/N. You know if you call, I’ll always answer. Besides, I couldn’t leave you in that absolute oven you call an apartment,” came Logan’s low reply.
You let out a light laugh, your chest rumbling where it was pressed into Logan’s back. He closed his eyes briefly, wanting to commit that feeling to memory so that he could replay that moment every day for the rest of his life.
Setting down the spoon, Logan gently turned around so you were facing each other. His breath hitched in his throat as he caught sight of you wearing his t-shirt, something so beautiful he’d hang it in a museum if he wasn’t so unwilling to let other people see it. He gazed into your eyes, noting the way every color and fleck of light blended into each other and mixed beautiful hues, barely noticing the way your pupils dilated slightly. He brought his arms up to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as his faced settled naturally into your neck. He inhaled deeply, the scent of your vanilla body wash and honey conditioner permeating his senses so thoroughly he thought he may become addicted forever.
“You smell nice, not like sweat anymore,” he teased.
You giggled.
“That’s good, because you stink.”
His chest reverberated deeply, reluctantly letting you go so he could go take his turn in the shower while you insisted on finishing the pasta.
Logan was grateful that your A/C broke that day, those few days you stayed in the hockey house with him while your landlord fixed your air conditioning were some of the best days he swore he ever lived.
In the days after you had texted Logan that your landlord said it was an easier fix than expected, you just needed a new filter.
Of course, Logan knew that, it was a relatively easy fix with a trip to the hardware store.
He just didn’t think you needed to know that part.
—————
While Logan cherished those few days you stayed with him in the summer, he had also convinced himself it was just a fluke. He had considered several times over the past year if what existed between you two could go beyond the ‘friend’ label it currently sat at.
There were times he wanted it so bad. He would catch whiffs of vanilla scents and remember you, freshly showered and standing in his kitchen. Nights that he couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes, the only image he could see was of you in his t-shirt and the way you clung to him in a way that he never wanted you to let go. He had a video he kept on his phone from a karaoke night at Malone’s that Garrett had taken of the two of you together. He was trying and failing to sing his part of the duet so badly that you stopped singing because you couldn’t catch your breath from how hard you were laughing. Little memories that he kept so close to his chest because it felt like he had so much to lose.
And that scared him.
There were so many times that he almost asked if you felt like there could be something more. But he never did. And it wasn’t necessarily for fear of rejection, he had known failure and rejection intimately across his lifetime and knew it was always a possibility. Instead, he was absolutely beyond any means he could put into words, terrified that he could lose you forever.
If he put a name to these feelings that bubbled up into his chest and left him incapable of breathing, he might lose you.
If he admitted not just to himself but also out loud just how you tilted his world on it’s axis, he might lose you.
If he let himself have even just a brief moment where for once he allow himself to have what stood in front of him and felt so real and so right and like it could for just once be his, he. might. lose. you.
So he pushed it down, he distracted himself and used a million different excuses to convince himself that he was wrong and misinterpreting his own feelings.
Every little touch of yours where sparks ignited the flesh up his arm? His imagination. Every glance you gave that left him vulnerable and perceptible in ways he never allowed anyone to get that close to notice before? He was overthinking it. Every little breathless sound you made that built heat inside him until he was sure he might combust? The weather, the flu, or whatever bullshit he could use to convince himself that he was fine just being friends.
Still, there were nights that Logan spent tossing and turning in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and just wishing you were beside him, that he couldn’t help but wonder about the possibilities.
You never talked about dating but maybe that was because it wasn’t a part of yourself you wanted to share with him. Maybe that was something he wasn’t privy to because you never saw him in that way. Logan knew that you were guarded with your emotions, that it took until the end of sophomore year to open up to him and let him in more than you did most people. You were cautious, you didn’t just let anyone get to know you. And Logan could understand that.
He could be rather guarded himself too. And as you had pointed out to him before, he had a bad habit of going ghost on everyone whenever it started to feel like it was too much. You would always give him his space to deal but when the time apart started to encroach on too far apart for too long, you would come find him.
You always came and found him no matter what.
Whether it was a fight with Jules or his brother.
Or his mom going back to rehab.
You had been there for all of that.
Flashback
Logan had had enough.
All the family drama. The stress from school. Figuring out how in the goddamn hell he was going to pay for school. Working twice as hard as some of the guys on the team, only to end up stuck at the starting line time and time again.
For every two steps forward he took, it felt like three steps back.
He was tired of it all.
His mother re-entering rehab that week had been just the icing on the cake. Logan didn’t know the exact details, just that Jules had mentioned it and that they were hopeful this would be the time.
This would be the time it would finally stick.
And really, Logan knew he shouldn’t have reacted the way he did. He was admittedly, an ass to Jules about the whole thing. He was up to his neck in midterms he didn’t have time to study for, bruised and aching from being slammed into the boards more times than he could count this week, and coach had just been on him relentlessly to pick up the pace if he wanted to keep his position in the starting line up. Everything he tried to do, he was getting his ass handed to him.
So when Jules came to him with hope written in their face and announcing to him that, “Mom is going back, for real this time,” Logan couldn’t help but scoff.
He had bitterly spit back at Jules, “If you stopped believing everything she said then maybe you wouldn’t be so fucking disappointed all the time. She’s going to let you down like she always does and then you’re going to look stupid for believing her.”
It was harsh and Logan knew it. He regretted it the second he said it and he watched hurt etch into Jules’s face.
Jules was silent for a moment, scanning their brother’s face for a glimpse of remorse or anything other than the pure frustration and resentment he seemed to radiate.
“You know, sometimes you’re just a little too much like dad,” Jules had said before stomping off.
The comment had landed deeply in Logan’s chest. It stung at first but quickly morphed to regret. It was all just too much and he felt like he couldn’t do anything right.
And as a result, John Logan did what he did best when shit got too real.
He disappeared.
Well, disappeared as best as he could given the responsibilities he didn’t have within himself to walk away from. There were times he wanted to, for sure. He wanted to just leave and never look back. Move across the country, move to where no one knew him and where no one had expectations of what he should or shouldn’t be and where no one could just let him down every time he got his hopes just a little too high. Just leave and make a new name and new family for himself. But of course if he did that, then he’d hate himself for it. Because then he’d really be like his dad.
Instead he put his phone on do not disturb, he took any odd job he could find, he put in extra hours in the weight room or on the ice, or he’d reserve a private study room for a few hours. He was the first one into practice and the last one to leave the showers. He’d hardly seen his roommates except at practice and they’d all shared a look when Logan forcefully rocketed pucks at the net as if it had personally offended him.
It’d all come to a head when a freshman rookie was scared to guard the net during drill because Logan was making crazy shots. Coach had pulled him off the ice and told him to sit out for a minute before the JV team needed an underwear change.
He stared at the ice, thinking about everything that had happened over the past week and just went to war with himself inside his mind. He had hardly noticed when practice ended, only brought back to reality when Garrett patted him on the shoulder.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Y/N has been looking for you. She’s crazy worried about you, dude,” was all Garrett said before giving Logan a pointed look and walking off to the showers.
Logan stared at the ice, guilt swirling in his conscious as he thought about you trying to chase him down.
Logan hated disappearing on you but there was a part of him that felt like he had to be his best for you, that it was his only shot of ever deserving you.
And he was not at his best right now.
Seeing the last of the guys leaving the ice, Logan stood from where he sat on the bench and hopped over the boards to find a stray puck that didn’t get picked up from practice. He knew he only had a limited time before they came to smooth the ice, so he was going to take advantage of that time while he could.
Logan took to the ice and skated a couple laps, picking up speed as he went and concentrating the best he could. Sweat had begun dripping down his face, his hair clinging to his forehead as he pumped the puck from left to right. He wanted momentum, somewhere to put this energy he was holding. He had been pushing the puck around for a bit trying to find his rhythm and getting frustrated when he gave up and took a long shot down the center and absolutely sent the puck flying into the net.
“Y’know if you launch that thing any harder you might actually break the puck.”
A voice broke his concentration from across the rink. He looked up to find you standing by the penalty box, your hands in your pockets to keep warm and your eyes instantly finding Logan’s.
“Y/N?” Logan whispered.
“You wanna come talk or you gonna make me come out there?” You called out.
Logan shook the hair out of his face, skating a bit closer as he stared at you in disbelief.
“You’re not wearing skates, do not walk out on the ice. You will fall,” Logan shouted back.
“You say that like I don’t know ice is slippery,” you retorted.
You had already started moving to step out on the ice, Logan quickly began picking up pace and lunging over to you as fast as possible. Logan knew you may be stubborn, but you were also extremely clumsy.
You had taken all but four steps onto the ice before you slipped and went falling backwards.
“Oh shi—”
Logan reached you just in time, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close into his chest, finding balance as his eyes frantically searched over you to make sure you were okay. His heart was beating out of his chest, he could only try and catch his breath as his hands held you tightly.
“You don’t listen well, Y/N,” Logan’s tone came out rough.
“It got your attention though, didn’t it?” you grinned up at him.
Rolling his eyes and having finally caught his breath, Logan skated the few feet back over to set you firmly on solid ground.
“Y/N what are you doing here?”
“Well, my best friend turned into a ghost and the boys said you were overextending yourself during practice so it was pretty easy to put two-and-two together.”
“It’s nothing,” came Logan’s short reply.
Not giving him a chance to skate off, you grabbed his arm and stared up into his eyes, a warm feeling spreading through his body and softening the tension that had lived in it all week.
“What happened?” Your voice a soft presence tethering him back to earth.
Logan stayed quiet, fixating his gaze downwards to where his skates met the ice.
“I was an ass,” Logan started.
“More so than usual?” You had gently teased, your hand finding his and rubbing gentle circles into it.
Logan let out an airy laugh, his eyes looking into yours and not finding judgment. Just concern and your ever-present stubbornness to face the difficult questions head on instead of just letting it go.
“Yeah, more so than usual. It’s been a shit week and Jules came to tell me that our mom is going back to rehab and was so just…hopeful like we haven’t seen this so many times before. So I snapped at them for believing her, called them stupid and I hurt their feelings,” Logan’s eyes shifted to the ground again.
You nodded, letting him speak and listening intently.
“And then Jules said I was just like our dad, and god. I don’t want to be like that, I don’t want to be like him. I need to fix things but I don’t know how,” Logan finished.
Silence grew between the two of you, the gentle circles you rubbed into Logan’s hand and the slight drift of a sweet vanilla scent being the most comfort he’s had all week.
“I don’t think you’re like your dad, John,” your voice soft.
Logan scoffed.
“Would your dad have felt guilty about hurting Jules like that? Would your dad feel the need to try and fix things?” You gently prodded.
Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
“No,” he said quietly.
“Exactly, John. I know you want to fix everything for everyone…but you can’t fix people. You have to give them the chance to do it themselves, even if that means they might let you down. You have to let them try and you have to let others be hopeful. Expecting the worst doesn’t change the outcome, but it does make it harder on yourself to accept anything other than disappointment,” you said while moving to play with his fingers before fully entwining them with yours.
A quiet calm settled between you two, Logan staring down at where your hand gently intertwined with his, your words giving him more hope than he’d had in a long time. He looked into your eyes, the ones he always tried to find in every room, and let that hope wash over him completely.
Everything else from the rest of the week began to creep in at the edge of his mind, his free hand moving to rub his temple.
“I’m also behind in homework and I don’t know if the jobs are going to be steady enough for next semester and—”
You tightened your grip on his hand.
“John, focus on what can you fix right now.”
Logan gripped your hand back and gave a terse nod.
“I need to find Jules and apologize.”
You smiled up at him.
“That’d be a good start.”
—————
PRESENT
You had been a constant in Logan’s life, providing him with hope and advice at moments everything going on started to feel like too much. You gave him clarity and made him feel seen in ways he never had before. You helped him bridge the gap with Jules and he was still working on it with his mom, but he was trying.
From where Logan sat, watching you in the kitchen with Tucker he began to realize something that he had been avoiding for a long time. He never wanted to put a name to it because that would’ve made it real and the potential loss so much greater. But if he never allowed himself the chance to have what was right in front of him, he may never get the chance to know what it felt like to know anything other than the disappointment he always accepted.
It had dawned on Logan slowly, and then all at once as he reminisced on those moments and the feelings he always pushed down, his eyes widening as he came to terms with everything as it swirled around his mind.
He was fully in love with his best friend.
He was in love with you.
“Logan, is there a reason you look like you’re staring at Tucker like you’re about to bite his head off?” You standing next to the couch, a bowl of popcorn in your hand and an eyebrow raised to your hairline.
Logan didn’t realize he had been staring like that.
“No sorry, I was zoning out.”
You looked like you didn’t believe him.
“You’ve been biting your nails again, John Logan.”
Logan was bewildered that you had noticed that.
“What? No I haven’t,” he countered.
“Yes, you have. You always do when things start to get too much. Is it because of that fight you broke up between Garrett and the guy from St. A’s in the game the other day?” You tossed a piece of popcorn in your mouth.
Logan let out a deep sigh.
“Yeah, things have been kind of weird between me and him lately. I don’t know where his head is at right now but I was just trying to kinda just give him space.”
“Wow, that sounds like something awfully close to maturity. Didn’t think you had it in you,” you teased.
You smiled and grabbed Logan’s hand, your soft touch sending sparks shooting up his arm and into his spine. Logan was positive, at this point, that everything you did set him on fire.
You had thoroughly, efficiently, and permanently found your way under his skin and beyond the layers of wall he had built around his heart. You made him believe in hope, and in that one touch you made Logan’s heart swell and realize that he was willing to take the risk of losing you if you didn’t feel the same. For you, he would bear the weight of that loss because right now the idea of never having you the way he’s never allowed himself to dream possible was suffocating him. There had been feelings all along and he had been too dumb to realize it.
He knew he wanted you badly. He wanted you in every single way you’d let him have you. He wanted your mornings and evenings. He wanted you when you woke up hungover and hangry after a night out at Malone’s. He wanted you when you cussed him out for getting injured during games with nothing but that sweet, concern-laced tone. He wanted you when you needed him, and he wanted you when you wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted your good, bad, ugly, and everything in between. He wanted every phone call, every text message, every silly video of cats that made you cry. He wanted your Monday mornings where you complained because the week was already kicking your ass and he wanted every Sunday night where you’d complain about having to do it all over again. You had altered the very fabric of his existence, weaving yourself right in so intrinsically that he would never be able to remove you if he tried.
The depth of these things was everything and a thousand times more than whatever mirage he’d entranced himself into with Hannah. She was a great person, for sure.
But she wasn’t you.
And you were what he had wanted all along, ever since you cracked a joke about desiring the fates of star-crossed lovers to escape your English Lit professors seemingly eternal monologues. You were it for him, and if you’d have him he’d spend the rest of his life making sure you saw yourself the way he saw you.
For the first time in his life, John Logan was sure of what he wanted. Now he just had to figure out how to bring up that he was actually in love with you.
———
Y/N POV
Logan was zoning out again, you had noticed.
You were still playing with his fingers, a habit you both would fall into when one needed a bit of reassurance from the other.
You didn’t think it was just the fight during the game with Garrett, you knew things were sort of rocky between the two since the Hurricanes fundraiser but this seemed more than just a fight between them. You were certain it was largely to do with Hannah, and whatever was happening between her and Graham causing distance.
Maybe Logan was finally about to make his move and take the shot.
Just the thought of that made you nauseous and your throat close up.
You glanced back across at him again.
Logan had been zoning out, occasionally staring at you with a soft look in his doe-like eyes and coming back to reality only when you gripped his hand a little tighter. You shivered as you felt a draft come across the living room. The older house didn’t always do well against the bitter cold that had started to settle in at apex of changing seasons.
“Logan, do you care if I borrow a hoodie? It’s a little chilly,” you asked.
“Sure, I can go grab one for you,” Logan moved to stand.
“Don’t worry, I can grab it. Stay here,” you got up instead.
“But—,” Logan protested.
“Logan. I will be gone for like 2 seconds, it’s fine.”
You were already taking off before he could argue any longer.
You had just barely turned the corner upstairs into the hallway when a fumbling noise and swearing caught your attention. There was a figure coming through the hallway window. Survival instincts weren’t at the forefront of your mind as you crept closer, realizing you recognized them as they crashed onto the ground in front of your feet.
“Wrong window, Dean. Fuc—”
“You’re Allie, Hannah’s friend right? You work at Malone’s?”
Allie looked up at you like a deer caught in headlights. She definitely didn’t have the right window and she definitely didn’t plan to run into you.
“Shit. Yes, but for the record, I’m not here right now,” she hurriedly said.
“You’re not?”
“No I am but I’m also not. I’m not supposed to be here but I am so for everyone’s sake I’m not,” Allie breathed out.
“Got it, so if hypothetically you were here, it definitely wouldn’t have anything to do with a loudmouth blonde would it?” The pieces were starting to connect in your mind.
“Nope, definitely not,” Allie rubbed her hands across the top of her jeans nervously.
You let out a light laugh, “Understood. I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you,” Allie sighed in relief.
Turning to leave and get your sweater, you softly called over your shoulder, “For what it’s worth though, if you run across a loudmouth blonde anywhere other than here, just know despite the show he puts on is just that. He’s actually a really great guy.”
Allie made eye contact with you and gave a small smile before she nodded.
“Thanks, Y/N right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know that?” You raised a quizzical brow.
“You come in to Malone’s with that guy every Tuesday. Logan, I think? The one who looks at you like you hung the moon and stars.”
You felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped on you.
What?
“Oh, I don’t think he feels that way about me,” you awkwardly force out.
“Girl, he totally likes you. I wished forever for my ex to look at me like that. You’ve seriously never noticed?” Allie said like it was just common sense.
You were speechless, utterly baffled.
There was no way, Logan liked Hannah, right? He looked at her like she hung the moon and stars, not you. He always tried to make her laugh, fixed her car for her, gave her those sweet, doe-eyes of his and practically worshipped the ground she walked on. There was just absolutely no way, it was impossible.
“I gotta go but it was nice formally meeting you!” Allie turned and dipped out the window she came from, unaware of the complete psychological spiral she had just put you in.
You stood in the hallway, trying desperately to collect your thoughts as you shut down what Allie had just said. You couldn’t fathom that John Logan would ever look at you like that.
“Y/N, you coming back down?”
Logan’s voice reminded you of why you originally came upstairs, your voice strained as you hollered down to him, “Yeah, I’ll be right there!”
You’re heart raced out of your chest and you thought you might get dizzy. Scratching your neck you slowly made your way down the hall and paused right inside Logan’s room.
You grabbed the hoodie hanging on Logan’s door, hesitating briefly before raising up and inhaling his scent. The smell of Logan’s soap, amber, and leather overtaking your senses and settling your nerves.
You could do this.
You could pretend you weren’t in love with your best friend, John Logan.
You could pretend it didn’t rip your heart into a million pieces when he looked at Hannah.
You could pretend this was nothing.
You could pretend you were fine.
You inhaled once more before walking down those stairs and sitting right next to Logan, treasuring the smile he gave you as he pulled your legs back across his lap and adjust the blanket across you. You ignored the dizziness and breathlessness that had rattled you when you unexpectedly ran into Allie. You forced down the pangs that plagued your body and wreaked havoc on your heart every time your best friend looked at you.
“You look good in my hoodie,” he said sweetly.
Shit, you thought.
This was going to be hard.
———
Logan POV
After you had left movie night that night, Logan found himself more restless than usual. Everything with realizing his feelings actually resided for you and not Hannah, upcoming finals, and the distance between him and Garrett had started to weigh heavily on him. He had spent the night tossing and turning, unable to even consider sleeping until he eventually gave up and went downstairs to find something to keep his hands busy. While he was in the kitchen, Garrett had come in and sat at the counter and started explaining the last few days and the tension between them. Logan learned a lot about his friend and gained a new respect for him as well. He understood someone not wanting to be like their father. Logan also understood that maybe there was a little bit more to that fight he broke up on the ice in their last game, when Garrett went
“For awhile there, I was a little bit jealous. Not just because of the hockey thing but I thought I liked Hannah,” Logan stated slowly.
“Hannah,” Garrett repeated.
“Yes.”
“As in my girlfriend?”
“As in your girlfriend,” Logan confirmed, preparing to be murdered.
“You can’t be serious,” Garrett started.
“Listen no I know, I figured out that I didn’t like her like that I just wanted to think I did. I don’t know, man. I just…there was someone else I couldn’t have and so I tried to want her instead,” Logan finished lamely.
The pieces finally all clicked together in Garrett’s mind.
“Logan, you didn’t want my girlfriend. You wanted Y/N. You wanted my relationship, but with Y/N instead,” Garrett
“Yeah, something like that,” Logan offered plainly before continuing, “it kinda took me a while to figure it out.”
Garrett had a dumbstruck look on his face.
“Dude, you can’t be this dumb. She’s been there in front of you this whole time. How did you not know you had feelings for her?”
“Did our lover boy here finally realize he was madly in love with Y/N?” A shirtless Dean came down the stairs and joined the two at the counter.
Logan grimaced.
“How obvious was it?”
“I’ve known since last spring, Garrett?” Dean turned to his captain.
“Since you brought her around to the house for the first time,” Garrett nodded.
“And you guys just never said anything?” Logan was incredulous.
“Your head was indeed pretty far up your ass. I even told Y/N that at my birthday party,” Dean grabbed a drink from the fridge.
“Wait, you told Y/N I had feelings for her?”
“Finally you admit it, jeez dude I was beginning to think you were never going to get the girl,” Tucker called out as he came into the kitchen, grabbing the drink Dean had in his hand.
“Tuck what the—“
“You ate my fruit babies,” Tucker pointed at Dean.
“Wait guys—” Garrett waved his hands to try and get them to focus.
“And you, looked like you were going to bite my head off earlier simply because Y/N grabbed my hand,” Tucker turned his attention back to Logan.
“I did consider slamming you into the boards during practice,” Logan mused.
“Exactly my point,” Tucker said.
“Alright point being, you’re in love with your best friend and I imagine she feels like shit because you were down bad for Graham’s girl,” Dean stated.
“You had a thing for Hannah too?” Tucker looked at Logan like he’d grown two heads and back to Garrett who shook his head.
“Focus, sweet Tuck.”
“My bad, keep going,” Tucker waved his hand in surrender.
Dean continued.
“Now Logan, listen close because here’s the big question.”
Dean laid his palms on the counter and leaned into them. He looked at Logan to make sure what he said next landed, because he was tired of seeing you hurting over the most oblivious dumbass he’d ever met.
“Y/N has sat and watched you pine over Wellsy to no end and made herself sad over and over again. She’s convinced you don’t want her. So,” Dean paused briefly to ensure Logan was thoroughly listening.
Logan intently locked eyes with Dean, nodding as though he was ready for whatever Dean said next.
“What are you going to do to get the girl, Logan?”
A/N: if you find a typo no you did not 😌
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