Play Pretend (Part One) | Logan Couture

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#39, Center for the San Jose Sharks
Word Count: 3.3 K

"Don't take this the wrong way
I want you to be happy
But it's hard to watch you fall again
'Cause now I gotta play pretend
Spending all of my time
Dancing on this fine line
It's hard to watch you fall again
'Cause now I gotta play pretend"
- "Play Pretend", Alex Sampson

"I just wish she didn't freak out on me all the time. I'm on the road all the time because that's what my job requires. That doesn't mean I'm running around with women the entire time I'm gone." Logan rants, tugging on his hair. His current girlfriend, Kacey, has been fighting with him about the smallest things lately, and he's about at his breaking point.

"You love her, though, don't you? Doesn't that mean something?"

He sighs and finally sits down for the first time since he got here twenty minutes ago. "I'm not sure if I love her."

I straighten in my seat. "Since when? You've always looked at her like she's the only person in the room. When did that change?"

"I feel like the longer I know her, the more I learn, and the more I'm not satisfied with our relationship." He admits.

I don't say anything, just watch him. I've known from the beginning that Kacey and him aren't right. I mean, I don't think he's ever truly been happy with her. That's something you notice when you've known someone for almost your entire life. I'm honestly surprised it's taken him this long to see it.

"So what are you going to do?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing, right now. But, if this continues, I'm gonna have to end it."

I nod. "That's your decision to make. Whatever you think is best, obviously."

He nods, but still doesn't look too happy with the decision he's made. "I need a drink." He mumbles, standing and making his way over to the cabinet in the kitchen where I keep all my alcohol. He takes out the tequila, and that tells me all I need to know.

He's gonna need a drinking partner, and I'm not gonna remember much of tonight.

- - - - -

I groan, rolling over. My eyes fly open when I'm stopped by someone's arms around my waist. I don't have a boyfriend, and I don't do one night stands. So who the hell is in my bed? And why are we both naked?

My head is pounding, and that worries me. Because all I remember from last night is doing a few shots with Logan, wanting to get his mind off of everything with Kacey. Wait. . . does that mean. . .

I glance down at the heavy arm draped over my waist, and inhale sharply. Because the blue bracelet on the guy's wrist tells me all I need to know. I made it for Logan when we were freshmen in high school, and he hasn't taken it off since. Which means that I had sex with my best friend. Who has a girlfriend. And who I've known since I was three.

This is not good.

I slip out from under his arm and quickly slip out of the room, grabbing shorts and a hoodie on my way out. I lock myself inside of the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I'm a complete mess. I look like a raccoon due to my smudged mascara and eyeliner, and my hair is simply defying gravity. It's probably a good thing that Logan is asleep.

I take a seat on the counter, not knowing what to think. I had sex with my best friend last night. And I don't remember a single second of it, or what caused it to happen.

The bathroom door opens and I lift my head to see Logan slipping into the room. He closes the door behind him and walks over to me. "How are you feeling? Be honest."

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