The guys groan, but Logan’s smile widens. “Van?“ he says. “The puck.” Van gently sends the puck toward Logan, and as it reaches Logan, I see a small box taped to the top. The kind of box rings come in. I bite my lip as he removes his gloves, then picks up the box. His green gaze pins me in place, his smile replaced by an earnest sincerity that makes my heart skip. “Pete, I love you. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much. Little ways. Big ways.” His eyes suddenly look heated. “A lot of ways.”
