Since I was a kid, making it into the World Hockey League was the ultimate goal. No relationship could match my first love, and after my rough childhood, I wasn't putting my heart on the line.
When Bellerive makes a successful bid to move the Califo...
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Logan Bishop is the best public-facing boyfriend I've ever had. Actually, he's just the best boyfriend, period. For the last week while we've traveled together, it's been as though Tamiko's strategy unlocked some piece of him that's been waiting for permission to exist.
After the games, he's taken me out with the team and their wives and girlfriends to the bars they frequent, and he never leaves my side. His hand is constantly locked with mine, or on my hip, or he's using it to tug me into his lap at whatever table the team has. I used to think that much contact was suffocating, insufferable. With him, I'm not penned in, I'm cared for.
Whenever there's even a smidgen of time where he can whisper something in my ear, he's calling me beautiful, or telling me how glad he is that I'm there, or describing in scorching detail what he intends to do once we're alone in the hotel room.
All of those things make me feel cherished and deeply appreciated, but that's not what gives him the honor of best boyfriend. It's what he's telling people when I'm not around. Isn't that the true test? What does he say when he doesn't know I'll see it or hear it?
Tamiko sent me a fan video of Logan signing autographs on his way into the stadium earlier today, and when he's asked about me, he grins—which is such a rarity—and he tells them I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him, says he's lucky to have someone so supportive. It's clear he doesn't see the other person filming him while he's interacting with the autograph seekers.
So far, they've won two games and lost the game tonight. Logan has maintained his high goal scoring streak. He's not just in the top ten scorers in the league; he's now number five.
Then tonight, as I'm waiting for him outside the dressing rooms, Tamiko sends me a screen recorded video of Logan talking about me after their loss to a reporter from one of the major sports networks. The first time I watch it, I don't have sound or closed captioning on, and it amazes me how happy he looks. Lit up. As though he's just scored a major goal, not as though some reporter just asked him about his girlfriend.
You're magic. Tamiko sends the messages right after the video. Remember the guy we watched before the season? No trace.
I glance around, but no one is that close, so I turn up the sound to rewatch it.
"For the first time in your career, you're in a public relationship. She was here again tonight, cheering on the team. Seems like she might be a bit of a lucky charm for you, personally."
"It does seem like that doesn't it?" Logan's grin is wide. "I keep telling her that."
"A billionaire physiotherapist is a bit of a strange combination," the interviewer says, clearly leading Logan to comment more.
"She uses her wealth as a powerful tool to help people on the island. I've seen it. She's selfless. Would do anything for anyone. The Bullets' organization is better for having her, and I'm better for knowing her—both on and off the ice."
"That's a pretty potent endorsement given the season you're shaping up to have."
"She deserves it. With her, I'm leveling up. Given where I was already at, that's saying something. She rose to the challenge, and she's pushing me to rise higher too. Couldn't ask for anything more from anyone."
Chills streak through me at the sincerity in his expression, at the praise he heaps on me about my career, which is what matters most coming out of my disaster of a relationship with Dalton. To hear him tell other people how good I am at my job is a salve to my soul. A job he wasn't sure I could do a few months ago, and look at us now?
After a slow start, Logan is accelerating through every marker from last season. If his trajectory continues, he'll be in contention for the highest scorer in the entire league. He hasn't explicitly told me he wants it, but I can feel it every time we work out and he forces himself to go a little further than he did the time before. Every time I give him a treatment, he's almost religious about the follow up care. All professional athletes must have a bit of that intensity in them, or they wouldn't reach the high levels of play. The desire and relentless pursuit of excellence is so strong in him that I'm a little in awe every time he reaches a new benchmark.
"You were very vocal about not wanting to go to Bellerive. Is it safe to say your fears have been allayed?" the interviewer asks.
"We all know the kind of season I'm having," he says. "Do I wish the team was doing better on the whole? Of course. One person doesn't win a team championship. For my career, going to Bellerive has been much better than expected, and the biggest factor is Sawyer Tucker. No question."
I press my palm to my heart. Tears well up, and I have to raise my gaze to the ceiling to hold them back.
You don't think it's too much? I text to Tamiko. While I love the praise and certainty he's exuding, I'm aware of how much people get off on tearing others down, especially people at the top of their game. Maybe he shouldn't seem quite so happy.
Tide is turning, my friend. Tamiko types back. All the dude bros like that you're good at your job and making Bishop better. All the female fans love the way he lights up when he talks about you.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Now we just have to keep the press about you two as positive as possible for the rest of the season.
Given how good things are going between Logan and me, and the mutual understanding we have about what this relationship is and isn't, negative press shouldn't even be an issue.
Then my phone pings with an alert about the hockey team in Bellerive. It's a news 온라인카지노게임 proclaiming Dalton Worthington as the new liaison between the government and the Bellerive Bullets.
I close my eyes. Fuck me.
"You all right?" Logan asks, his hand sliding along the small of my back.
I was so focused on the news alert that I didn't even see him approach.
"Dalton's the new team liaison for the government."
"It'll be fine," Logan says, and his thumb grazes my cheek before he gives me a tender kiss. "I never saw King Alexander. I'll never see Dalton either."
While his claims about Alex might be true, I'm not so sure Dalton's managerial style will be the same. He's never been the hands-off type.
"If you do have anything to do with him," I say, "I need you to keep a lid on your temper. He'd love nothing better than to get the best of you, get the upper hand."
"I'm cool as a cucumber, doc." He can't help the smirk that follows.
"I'm serious."
"He can say whatever the fuck he wants. You think I haven't heard world class trash talking? Shit about my mom, about being in foster care, about any perceived weakness? My penalty minutes are down because I've learned to block that out. The California Crows sent me to some specialist to manage my emotions because I was getting too many penalty minutes. I can block him out." Logan wraps his arm around my shoulders, and we head toward the exit behind the rest of the players with wives and girlfriends. "As long as he keeps his hands to himself, I can handle whatever bullshit he wants to say that's probably not even true."
Probably, being the important word there. Because there are so many things Logan knows nothing about when it comes to Dalton.
We're 15 votes away on the previous chapter to getting a second update this week. Can we do it?
