Morning skate went by quickly, but I miss having the rink to myself. Now that it's the regular season, I have to share it with the rest of the boys. My night with Logan played on repeat in my mind the entire time I was on the ice as I remembered the way her body molded into mine. At one point, Patrick pulled me from heavenly thoughts when he made some smart remark about how amazing Logan's ass looked in her tight workout pants. I mean, he wasn't wrong, but I don't want him or anyone else looking at my girl, so I made sure to hit him a little harder into the boards to teach him a lesson. Not that he knows that she's my girl yet, but he will soon enough.

The rest of my Sunday kind of sucked. I knew Logan was busy studying with Marc, so I didn't want to interrupt her. She's used to being independent, and I don't want to bombard her with my presence, but I'm having a hard time. I just want to be with her.

Having to write my paper about her just made things worse. The more I thought about her and her selfless heart, the more I wanted to walk my ass over to her dorm to just be around her. I've never crushed this hard before, but I don't even think crush is a strong enough word for it at this point.

It's like a flip got switched inside of me after taking Logan to the pond last night. I've never wanted to make someone my girlfriend before, but after last night with Logan, all I want is to be the man who takes care of her. I'm done with all the stupid shit. The sleeping around and not giving a fuck about anyone besides myself. She's it for me. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel different today. Lighter almost—more myself.

When Sunday night rolled around, I couldn't help myself as I pulled out my phone to text her. I knew she didn't want me to distract her studies by being with her, but she never said that I couldn't text her. I laid in bed, wishing she was next to me as I typed out my message.

"I miss you."

Not even a minute later, my phone buzzed, and as I looked at my screen, a giant shit-eating grin formed across my face.

"It hasn't even been a whole day yet."

I can just imagine her rolling her eyes with a big satisfied smile on her face when she read my needy message. I waited, staring at those three little dots as Logan typed another message to me.

"But, I miss you too, baby."

I grew up hearing my parents use pet names, and I've never really understood why you would. I mean, they're cheesy as hell, but when Logan uses them, I love it.

Her sweet text was enough to satiate me for the night. I knew I was going to sleep like shit, but it's not Logan's responsibility to take care of my sleep, even though the only time I get a restful night is when she's next to me. I don't want her to feel burdened to have me over all the time just because I can't make it through the night without her, especially when she's trying to focus on her schoolwork. I don't want to be a distraction for her. I want her to take care of herself for once. The thing that sucks about the timing is that I leave for Michigan this week for a preseason tournament, which means I won't get to sleep well again until next weekend.

Monday's classes dragged on, and I left my Physiology class ten minutes early, so I was guaranteed to sit next to Logan in creative writing. Much to my surprise, when I got to the lecture hall, Logan wasn't there yet, so I picked a pair of seats somewhere in the middle of the room. Not too close to the front as Logan would prefer, but not towards the back where I would've chosen. I keep my eyes glued to the door, waiting for her to walk in.

When she does, I feel my mouth part open at the view, and my shoulders instantly relax, just knowing that she's in the same room as me. Logan looks stunning, per usual, but today she's radiating. Her hair is down and curled, and the deep red color looks fresh and shiny. She's wearing a dark grey, skin-tight skirt that hits just below her knee, hugging every curve. Her silky dark green top flows away from her body, but I know exactly what's hidden underneath. The green of her shirt brings out the green of her eyes, and I can see them shine from here. She looks like a sexy little businesswoman dressed liked this—my sexy little businesswoman. My gaze wanders down her perfectly toned legs to her shoes as I spot a pair of old worn converse. I can't help but laugh when I glance back to the matching pair on my own feet.


She looks around the room, which I hope is because she's trying to find me, and when her eyes connect with mine, they soften. She gives me a sweet smile and cocks her head to the side when she realizes I had saved her a seat next to me.

"Hi," She says as slides into the seat I had reserved for her.

"Hi," I say in a daze, totally mesmerized by my girl.

"You're late," I remind her in a teasing tone as she hurriedly pulls out her laptop and slips her jacket off her shoulders.

"And you're early. My oh my, how the tables have turned, Mr. Maddison," she jokes, which makes me grin. But it also makes my cock twitch to hear my formal name come out of her mouth while she's dressed like this.

"If you call me Mr. Maddison again, I'm going to have to drag you out of here, over my shoulder, and take you back to your bed," I whisper to her in a low husky voice. I'm only partially joking.

She swats my arm as she giggles at my forwardness. "I had a marketing presentation for class that went long, thanks for saving me a seat," she says as she turns and shoots me her sweetest smile. Her mixture of sweet and sassy is tempting me to pounce on her right now.

"Of course, baby," I tell her as I brush the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. I lean my lips against her ear as I whisper, "You look stunning, by the way," before I kiss her cheek and pull away.

"Thank you," she says as her eyes lock on mine, seeming to accept my compliment easily. "I had to dress up for that presentation, but I took my heels off as soon as it was over," she adds, pointing to her bag where a pair of black high heels are poking out.

She makes me smile. She's a fucking stunner, but she's still such a tomboy at times.