“I’ve been told my entire life that I’m...good looking. I’ve had the pretty boy nickname for far too long. Does that make me poisonous?”
“Let’s get one thing straight. You’re not good-looking.” She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “I don’t know who told you that, but they were lying straight to your face.”
I laughed so hard that she jumped toward me.
“Shhh!”
“Right. Okay. So I’m not bright blue? Is that what you’re saying?”
Her gaze darted across my features. “You have a little blue from your trust issues, too, but it’s understandable. I just hope it’s enough to warn off the next woman who thinks you’d look pretty on her Instagram feed.”
“Thought I wasn’t pretty?” I smirked.
“Shut up, Logan.” She shook her head and filed the book, but there was a smile on her face.
“I just want someone to want me for who I am instead of what I am. All of it. The genetics, the job, the money, and that feels...impossible.” The weight of that reality was more than I could fathom as we reached the end of the last aisle.
“They paying you okay over there at the stadium?” she threw over her shoulder as she filed the last book.
“Arena,” I corrected her with a smile. “And yeah, I do okay.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” she offered, coming around the cart until there was nothing between us but a foot or so of carpet. “I will be your friend no matter what. If your face gets eaten by acid in some Batman-Joker accident? I’ll still be your friend. You decide to stop hitting the gym and hit the pizza instead? Still here, probably stealing a slice, actually. You lose your job, or get an unfortunate haircut? Yep, still here. As long as nothing changes in here—” she tapped her finger on the center of my tie, “—then I’ll be right here.”
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wanted her, and it wasn’t just sexual. I wanted exactly what she’d just offered...but more. And I was in no position to give it to her, not when she still didn’t know what I actually did for a living, and not while I was still scarred up from Blaire.
Delaney deserved someone who wasn’t damaged.
“Sound like a deal?” she questioned, sticking her hand out.
I dropped down and retrieved her present, putting that in her hand instead of shaking it. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Her jaw dropped, and she sputtered for a second. “Wait. I didn’t get you anything. Was I supposed to? Because I thought Valentine’s Day gifts were only for people in relationships, and of course we’re clearly not, so—”
“It’s okay,” I assured her, stopping her from going down the rabbit hole. “We’re in friendship, and since you didn’t tell me if you had a real Valentine, I figured I could get you a little something.”
“What? Of course I don’t have a real Valentine! And I guess a friendship is a type of relationship, so...well, damn, now I feel guilty for not getting you anything.” Her brow furrowed, and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
“Open it,” I urged, nodding toward the package. I’d always been a shitty gift-giver. Not because of the gifts themselves, but because I had such a hard time waiting to give them to the people I’d bought them for.
She scrunched her nose at me, but picked up the package and carefully ripped open the bright red paper. I liked that about her. She did things with care and consideration.
“Whoa. Wait. You.” Her eyes flew from the book to my face and back again. “Logan, do you know what this is?”
“Well, I bought it.” I shrugged, but my grin was impossible to hide.
“It’s a first edition.”
“That’s what I was told.”
She hit me with the full force of her eyes, and I lost my train of thought. God, she was so fucking beautiful, and that was the least of what made her incredible.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
“Do I like it? It’s a first edition of The Catcher in the Rye! It’s amazing!” She paused and looked down at the book. “Man, I guess they do pay you pretty well over at the stadium.”
I didn’t bother correcting her. “It’s for you. Not the library.”
She startled. “Me? Like…my house?”
“Wherever you keep your books. You hand out books to everyone else, and it’s about time someone handed you one.”
“A thousand-dollar one,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop smiling, no matter how many times she’d tried to school her features.
It was more like an eight-thousand-dollar one, but I wasn’t going there.
“And it’s mine?” she questioned, her body nearly vibrating with excitement. “Really?”
“Really.” I nodded, soaking in her joy and making it my own.
“Ahhh!” She shrieked in happiness, put the book in the cart, and then jumped at me. “Thank you!”
I caught her easily. Fuck, she weighed less than some of my gear bags. Her arms wrapped around me, and her face tucked in against my neck as she hugged me tight.