Page 57 of Cross the Line

I furrowed my brow. “You’re tracking our friends?”

“Of course. For safety,” she added quickly, a little too quickly.

I peered down at her. “They do know you’re tracking their location, right?”

“Yes.” She waved away my concern, but I wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Georgia,” I chided.

“What?” She peered up at me with an innocent expression. “They gave me permission a few years ago when we went on a girls’ trip. They just must have forgotten to shop sharing their locations.”

“Mm,” I hummed, still skeptical.

Sometimes I got the feeling that Georgia was flexible when it came to rules. It was probably part of the reason why we got along so well.

Her phone pinged, and she squared her shoulders. “They’re pulling into the parking garage,” she called. And then she muttered to her phone, “Logan, where the hell are you?”

“I’ll find Logan,” I said, anxious to see her. “You get everyone in position for Frasier and Bryn’s arrival.”

Georgia nodded, giving my bicep a squeeze. “Thanks, Carson.”

I rushed toward the door that led to the hallway, past Coach and his husband, past Boone and my other teammates. I hit the button to connect to Logan’s number, holding my phone to my ear.

“Hey,” she answered on the second ring, breathless.

“Hey.” I smiled. It was so damn good to hear her voice. My heart was already racing, as if trying to seek her out. “Where are you? Georgia said that Frasier and Bryn will be here any minute.”

“My ride got stuck in traffic, and I had to change in the lobby bathroom because I didn’t have time to go to Georgia’s first. And now,” she huffed, “I can’t seem to find the freaking ballroom.”

“Where are you? What do you see?” I asked, focused on getting to her so she could be there for the big reveal.

“A massive balcony overlooking the skyline. A long, carpeted hallway.”

“Stay there,” I said, knowing exactly where she was. “I’ll come to you.”

I turned around, heading in the direction of the balcony. This hotel was huge, but fortunately, I’d been here for a number of events. I jogged over to the stairs, opening the door before taking them two at a time.

“Are you—” she asked.

“Running?” I finished for her. “Yes.”

And it wasn’t because we were short on time, though we were. It was because I couldn’t wait a second longer to see her.

A moment later, I emerged onto the next floor, pushed open the door, and glanced both directions. That’s when I saw her—standing at the end of the hallway, back to me with her phone pressed to her ear. Her hair spilled down her back like molten chocolate, and I wanted to run my fingers through it.

She wore a cream-colored dress with a pair of heels that made her calves and ass look phenomenal. When she turned to face me, I nearly pinched myself to try to convince myself that she was real. She was here.

She was gorgeous.

“Holy shit,” I breathed, forgetting that we were still on the phone.

Logan laughed, ducking her head. My skin heated, and I told myself to chill. But I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her wear something so elegant and feminine.

When we’d gone to dinner after her game at Christmas, she’d been dressed in a sweater and jeans that had shown off her athletic figure. Before that, she’d been wearing a swimsuit at Cece’s birthday that had made my mouth water. But seeing her now, standing there in a dress that wrapped around her waist, dipping low on her chest in a deep V, had a bolt of recognition thrumming through me.

Mine.

She ended the call and tucked her phone into her purse. I ate up the space between us in a few strides.