2

I stormed toward the exit, cheeks burning. Logan was waiting by the car when I got there, scrolling through his phone with a satisfied grin. “Hey, babe. Everything good?” I forced a smile, sliding into the passenger seat as he held the door. “Yeah. Just… ran into Chase Ryder.” Logan’s expression darkened instantly. “That prick. What’d he say?” I hesitated, then repeated the words. Logan’s jaw clenched, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he pulled out. “Typical Chase. Always has to poke the bear. Don’t let him get to you.” He reached over and rested his hand on my thigh, squeezing. “We’re the golden couple, right? He’s just jealous.” I nodded, leaning my head back against the seat. “Right.” But as the city lights blurred past the window, I couldn’t stop replaying that smirk, those gray eyes, the way his voice had wrapped around my name like a challenge. Logan’s hand felt warm and safe on my leg, but my skin still tingled where Chase had touched me. I pushed the thought away. This was our night. Our life. Later that evening, back in our sleek downtown apartment, Logan poured us both a glass of wine. The interview highlights were already blowing up online—clips of us everywhere, fans calling us relationship goals. He pulled me onto the couch, his mouth finding mine in a deep kiss. “You were perfect today,” he murmured against my lips, hands sliding down my sides to grip my hips. “So f*****g perfect.” I kissed him back, letting the familiar heat build. Logan was good at this, strong, attentive, knowing exactly how to touch me. His fingers tugged at the zipper of my dress, peeling it down my shoulders. I arched into him, whispering his name as his mouth trailed down my neck. But even as pleasure sparked through me, a tiny, traitorous part of my mind flashed back to gray eyes and that mocking laugh. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, focusing on Logan’s touch. On us. He lifted me easily, carrying me to the bedroom like he’d done a hundred times. Our bodies moved together in the dark, passionate and familiar. Logan groaned my name as he thrust deep, hands possessive on my waist. I moaned, nails digging into his back, chasing that release. Afterward, he pulled me against his chest, kissing my forehead. “Love you, Allie.” “Love you too,” I whispered, tracing patterns on his skin. Sleep came slowly. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, more notifications from the interview. I glanced at it, scrolling absently. One comment caught my eye under a clip of the interview: Did anyone else see that moment when Chase Ryder walked by in the background? The way he looked at Allie… I closed the app quickly, heart racing again. It was nothing. Just fans being dramatic. But as Logan’s breathing evened out beside me, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Chase Ryder’s words echoed in my head. Second place looks good on him. The rivalry had always been Logan’s battle. Now it felt like it had brushed against me too and left a mark I couldn’t ignore. Logan and I are a team and an enemy of his, is mine too. The next morning, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our apartment. Logan was already up, making protein shakes in the kitchen, shirtless and humming some victory song. I padded out in one of his old jerseys, which hit mid-thigh, and wrapped my arms around him from behind. “Morning, superstar.” He turned, grinning, and lifted me onto the counter for a slow kiss. “Morning, beautiful. Got practice later, but I’m all yours until then.” We ate breakfast together, talking about the interview buzz and his upcoming games. Everything felt normal. Perfect. Until my phone rang. It was my best friend, Mia. “Girl, you have to see this,” she said the second I picked up. “There’s a clip circulating from yesterday. You and Chase in the hallway. Someone caught the whole thing on their phone.” My stomach dropped. “What?” “It’s blowing up. People are saying there’s tension. Chemistry. The comments are wild, some are shipping you with him now. ‘Rivals to lovers’ or whatever.” I laughed it off, but my pulse quickened. “That’s ridiculous. He’s an arrogant jerk who thinks he is better than everyone. Logan hates him.” Mia hummed skeptically. “Just saying… the way he looked at you? Whew.” I ended the call and opened the link she sent. The video was grainy but clear enough: me glaring up at Chase, his smirk, the way he leaned in close. The caption: Golden couple? Or is there trouble in paradise? Chase Ryder crashing the party. Logan came up behind me, reading over my shoulder. His body tensed. “Delete that s**t. It’s nothing.” But as he kissed my neck, trying to distract me, I couldn’t shake the heat that had pooled in my belly when Chase touched me. The way his laugh had sent sparks down my spine. I turned in Logan’s arms, kissing him hard to silence the thoughts. “It’s nothing,” I agreed, pulling him back toward the bedroom. Our bodies came together again, urgent this time, almost desperate. Logan’s hands were everywhere, claiming me. I let myself drown in it, in him. Yet when I came undone, gasping his name, a forbidden image flashed behind my eyelids: gray eyes watching me, that smirk daring me to want more. I pushed it away. Logan was my future. My golden boy. Chase Ryder was just the enemy.