Free Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) by S. M. Smith

Logan is wiping down the machine with what looks like a Lysol wipe. My brain gets a little hung up on the flawlessly sculpted man and sigh sadly. Logan is beautiful, no doubt about it. I’ve crushed on numerous players, even tried a date here and there, but no one seems to hold a candle in the looks department to Logan Lassiter. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find his strong silence somewhat attractive, then throw in his devout loyalty to his family—even Drew to some extent—and I doubt anyone would blame me for standing here like a creeper drooling over a man who drives me insane. Too bad the beautiful exterior doesn’t match the tainted interior.
    Too caught up in watching him yet again, we come face-to-face before I can school myself for the encounter.
    “I’m sorry I was staring,” I spout before I can register a filter.
    His lips twitch as he pulls a shirt over his head. “You were staring?”
    I nod. Because for some reason the smoldering look in his eyes has completely taken my breath away.
    “That’s not very polite.”
    His very ironic statement pours over me like ice water and brings me back to reality. I can’t stop the laugh that barks out of me. I regret it the second his mildly amused look turns stony again.
    “Sorry, that wasn’t very nice of me. I just find it wildly ironic of you to…” His eyes narrow. “You know what, never mind. I’m just going to go work out now.”
    We both sigh as I squeeze past him and into the gym. Just as I am about to clear the space that smells uniquely like Logan, his arm snakes out and grabs the wrist that is holding my water bottle. Turning, I find him staring down at the San Jose Spartans bottle in my hand. That jaw clenches again and I roll my eyes.
    “What now?”
    He lets go and runs his hand through his hair again, his stare never leaving the bottle in my hand. “Nothing, never mind.”
    I hold up the water and glare at him pointedly. “What? This? A gift from my…from Walt a couple of years ago. I don’t have a favorite team, but they’re his. I’m not trying to be—”
    “I said never mind, Allie. Stop reading—”
    “Ugh! You know what, Logan? I’m tired of walking on eggshells around you. One second you look like it might be possible for you to let loose and relax, and half a second later you’re back to being broody, poker-faced Logan again. Just chill out already, will ya.”
    It isn’t until I let out a shaky breath that I realize I just said all my thoughts out loud. His vacant expression watches me for a moment to see if I’m going to say anything else.
    “Are you done?”
    I nod, afraid that if I open my mouth again I’m just going to go off on him again.
    “I have to go into town for—”
    “I got your note. Thanks.”
    His nostrils flare, and I know his patience is waning as well. I make a mental note to look into other places to stay this afternoon.
    “Well then. I’ll see you this evening.” He turns to leave but I’m here to do a job and I can’t get it done if we’re constantly at each other’s throats.
    “Logan.” He turns, a weary expression on his face. “Can we try another interview tonight? Please?” I add, trying not to sound too pleading.
    He visibly swallows. “It’s film night.”
    Oh goodie. “What are we watching?”
    “I have films to watch.” It takes me a moment to understand what he means. When understanding finally dawns on me, a tiny spark of excitement starts a fire within me. I could definitely use a game or two analyze to help clear my strung out nerves.
    “Mind if I join you?” I ask, praying that he doesn’t turn me down.
    He watches me for a moment. Apparently my dire need for the game shines all over my face when a timid smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “Sure. Just…just no questions please.”
    “You got it.” If there’s one thing I can’t do it’s watch a game without interrupting for a million questions, but I won’t admit that right now. Instead I turn