Bailey (Angel Institute #3)

Chapter 8

Eight

BAILEY

I tug my scarf up over the bottom half of my face as I walk several blocks from my apartment to Benton Falls’ park, the sound of laughter and festive music growing louder with each step. The Ice Games are in full swing, and despite my reservations about participating, I find myself drawn to the infectious energy radiating from the event. There are red tents set up all over the park. The ice skate rental trailer is hopping. There’s a line at the cocoa stand—and the food trucks have a few people waiting—but I’m sure they’ll have longer lines as the day goes on.

The air is thick with the aroma of cinnamon and hot cocoa, mingling with the sharp, clean scent of freshly fallen snow. Colorful banners flutter in the breeze, proclaiming “Benton Falls Ice Games” in bold letters. They look a little dirty and have crease marks, like they’ve been in storage for 364 days. The ice rink itself is a spectacle, transformed into a winter playground with obstacles, targets, and even what appears to be a makeshift curling lane.

I pause at the edge of the crowd, taking in the scene before me. Families and friends are gathered in clusters, their cheeks rosy from the cold and excitement. Children dart between adults, their laughter ringing out like bells. It’s a picture-perfect scene of small-town life during the holidays, the kind you’d see on a Christmas card.

The sense that I’m an outsider starts to creep through my chest like water freezing over. I put my gloved hand over my heart and draw in a deep breath.

“Bailey! You made it!”

I turn to see Gladys bounding toward me, her enthusiasm is as palpable as ever. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she continues, linking her arm through mine as if we’ve been friends for years instead of mere days. She did sleep at my house, so there’s that. “Isn’t this exciting?”

I nod, trying to muster up a fraction of her enthusiasm. “It’s certainly... something,” I manage, my eyes scanning the crowd.

I spot Logan standing tall among a group of fellow firefighters, his laughter carrying across the rink. He’s dressed in a form-fitting red sweater that accentuates his broad shoulders, a Santa hat perched jauntily on his head. The firefighters are all dressed the same, and they’re all specimens to behold. “Good heavens,” I mutter. I honestly didn’t know men were that strong outside of a gym. I mean, my life just didn’t cross paths with muscles of that caliber before Logan and this contest, and now I’m staring at a whole herd of beefy men.

As if hearing my drool drop onto the snow, Logan looks up, his green eyes meeting mine. A warm smile spreads across his face, and he raises a hand in greeting.

I quickly look away, my cheeks flushing with heat.

“Oh, look,” Gladys exclaims, oblivious to my discomfort. “The teams are getting ready for their first event. Let’s get closer.”

Before I can protest, she’s pulling me through the crowd toward the rink. We end up near the edge, with a perfect view of the firefighters lining up for what appears to be an ice tug-of-war. Since this is our first event, it makes sense that the firefighters would all stand up for their individual teams. I certainly wouldn’t want to compete against one of them. I’d be dragged across the ice before you could say loser.

Logan stands at the end of one rope, his competitive spirit evident in the determined set of his jaw. Across from him is another firefighter, a tall, lean man with a shock of red hair visible beneath his Santa hat.

“That’s Axel,” an elderly woman next to me whispers conspiratorially. “He and Logan have been rivals since they were boys. This should be interesting.”

I blink at her. “How do you kno–.”

“Shh,” she shushes me as if a tug-of-war needs silence.

The announcer’s voice booms across the rink. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first event of our annual Ice Games! Our brave firefighters will be kicking things off with the Ice Tug-of-War. On the red team, we have Logan Brown. On the blue team, Axel O’Brien. Let’s give them a big round of applause.”

The crowd erupts in cheers as the two men take their positions, gripping the rope tightly. I find myself holding my breath, caught up in the tension.

“Ready... set... PULL!”

The rink erupts in shouts of encouragement as the two men strain against each other. Logan’s muscles flex visibly under his sweater as he pulls with all his might. Axel slides forward a bit, then digs in his heels, pushing back.

For a moment, it seems like a stalemate. Then, with a mighty heave, Logan begins to gain ground. Inch by inch he pull Axel across the centerline.

“Red team wins!” the announcer shouts, and the crowd goes wild.

Logan’s fellow firefighters crowd around him, slapping him on the back and ruffling his hair. His face is flushed with exertion and triumph as he shakes hands with Axel, their rivalry momentarily set aside in a show of good sportsmanship.

Gladys gushes, her eyes shining.

I nod absently, not hearing what she’s saying, my eyes still on Logan. There’s something captivating about seeing him like this—competitive, yes, but also commanding and playful. I haven’t seen this side of him before.

Gladys pulls me forward. “Come on. They’re about to start the next event and our team needs us.”

I hurry to keep up with her as she weaves through the crowd. The announcer tells everyone to get read for Human Curling, whatever that is.

“You made it,” Logan smiles at Gladys and touches my arm. “Here.” He settles his Santa hat on my head and then adjusts it.

I start to protest. “It’s yours.”

“It looks better on you.” He winks.

I flush. The hat smells faintly of his shampoo. He goes into team leader mode and soon has us set up with brooms. “I’ll push.” We all agree quickly because none of us are as strong as he is. “Olivia and Marcus you’re on brooms. Evelyn, you’re catching her if she heads for that snow bank, and Bailey, you’re our rock.”

“I’m a rock?” I ask incredulously.

He puts his arm around me and I’m overwhelmed by his nearness. My heart thunders in my ears and I’m afraid I won’t hear his explanation of what I’m supposed to do. Maybe he’s been holding back up to this point because I feel like he’s releasing the floodgates of his attention and—gulp—attraction to me in this one moment. I’m not ready. My mouth is dry and I may pass out. Stupid breath is puffing out around me, showing the whole world that Logan makes me hyperventilate. Let me just fall in a snowbank right now and not come out until spring.

My reaction is so strange. I mean, I didn’t get this way about my ex at all. When I first met him, I was flattered by his attention. He was the top designer at the design house where we worked. I felt special because he noticed me. Over time, I think I became addicted to that feeling. I felt like I had to earn it from him, and when he wasn’t praising me, I felt like a heap of washed-up garbage.

And that didn’t feel anything as good as the way my stomach swoops out from under me when Logan grins at me. I have no idea what a drop from this height will do to me. I must be glutton for punishment, because I want to find out.

“This is your sled.” He picks up a child-sized red disc-like sled that looks like a dinner plate in his large hands. You sit on here and I’ll push you across the ice. The team who gets closest to the target wins.” He leans down over my shoulder and points to the red target painted on the ice, making me turn that direction to see what he’s pointing at. I would turn in circles if he wanted me to. I’m so struck by him that my brain is useless. “These two will sweep in front of you to keep you going.”

“That sounds safe,” I grumble.

“It’s safe-ish.” He puts his chin on my shoulder from behind me. He’s super friendly today and I like it. I like it when he’s close. It’s a heady mixture of danger and pleasure. Danger, because I don’t trust myself to pick a good man and because if I did pick him and he didn’t pick me, I’d be devastated.

“Keep your hands and arms inside the ride at all times,” he teases me in an announcer voice.

I chuckle. “Easy for you to say.” It’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching up and cupping the back of his head to keep him there.

“Come on you two!” calls Marcus. He has a broom in one hand and a fiercely determined look on his face.

We hurry to line up. I have to sit criss-cross on the disc. The lady next to me is curled in a ball, her arms over her head for protection. “Should I do that?” I ask Logan, who is lining up behind me to start pushing.

“Just hold on to your legs so they don’t fly out,” he replies.

Someone on the other side of us tells his teammate. “I’m going to throw you so hard you’ll end up in the next county.”

“Bring it on,” replies the woman on the disc.

My mind says These people are crazy . I look down at my legs tucked under me. And now I’m one of them.

“On your mark!” yells the announcer.

I wrap my arms around my legs and hold on tight.

“Get set!”

Olivia and Marcus set their brooms on the ice. My stomach drops out.

“Logan. I don’t do this kind of thing. I play it safe. I don’t know what came over me and I want off.”

Logan scoffs. “I’ve seen your designs—you are a risk taker, Bailey.”

I gasp. His words speak to a part of myself that I haven’t been able to reach, and they bloom like flowers in the snow. I do like to push the envelope in design, and I used to do it with fashion and flavors and all sorts of things. I’d been stripped of those parts of me and in one comment, Logan brought them all up before my eyes for me to remember and reconsider. They were still there, the only outlet those parts of me have is design—and even then, I continually question their existence.

Do I want to be that person again? I could reach out and grab onto her and pull her to me.

“Go!”

“Ahhh!” I scream as Logan digs in his toes, pushing me, and then I’m flying across the ice. My scream fades, and all I hear is the wind rushing by me. It’s freedom and fun and awesome. I want to throw my arms out wide and let the world come at me. I don’t because I also want to win this. Not just for me—because I could use a win—but for Logan who saw parts of me that I thought were long gone.

Olivia and Marcus work furiously to sweep ahead of me, but they’re losing ground because I’m moving faster than they do. The target, that seemed so far away only a moment ago, is coming up fast. I’m going to have to slow down if I’m going to be the closest. I glance over my shoulder to check on the other fliers. Several of them have already stopped. They’re watching me, hoping I’ll overshoot the target.

I lean back on my pockets and put my feet out in front of me. I keep them flat, hoping for just enough friction that I’ll stop on the target.

I run right over the top of it. “Silver bells!” I curse. When I stop, I spin around to see that I’m not closest, that’s Axel’s team. But I’m a close second and we’re still awarded points. I jump up, my hands raised over my head in celebration.

My feet slip right out from under me and I land on my back, my head bouncing off the ice. I lay there, stunned.

“Bailey!” Logan’s voice breaks through the ringing in my ears. He lands on his knees several feet away and slides to my side. “Are you okay?” He starts checking me over, his hands testing my arms and legs for broken bones as his training kicks in. He leans in close and holds both sides of my face with his bare hands. “Bailey? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

I suddenly cough, like my body’s engine is trying to restart.

“Let me through, I’m her guardian angel,” Gladys elbows her way to the front of the crowd. “Bailey, you were amazing on the sled.” She drops to the other side of me.

“Thanks,” I reply feebly.

“Can you move?” asks Logan.

“I’m fine. I think.” I wince as I try to sit up. Other firefighters have gathered around us and they block out the sun. Which is nice because I was squinting before.

“Don’t get up too fast,” admonishes Axel.

“You’re better looking up close,” I tell Axel. I’m still fuzzy and I don’t feel at all embarrassed for saying so because I’m with it enough to know it’s my head injury talking.

“She obviously hit her head,” says Logan. Which makes all the guys laugh.

Gladys grins. “Maybe it knocked some sense into her.” She winks at Axel who throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh.

I can’t be that bad off if everyone is making jokes.

Logan cups my face again and makes me look at him. His eyes dart back and forth between mine, looking for signs of a concussion. My head clears even more as I stare into his green eyes. “You have beautiful eyes,” I tell him. This time, I just want to say it because it’s true.

Gladys beams at me.

The guys all laugh harder. Logan’s ears turn red, and I don’t think it’s because we are outside in December. He grins. “I should have shoved you across the ice a while back. How are you feeling?”

I draw in a breath and assess myself. I may have a bruise on my hip and a bump on my head but I don’t think it’ll stop me from continuing with the games. “I’m good.”

He smiles at me as he tucks my head against his shoulder with one hand and wraps the other around my back. “Yeah you are,” he says low as he stands up, taking me with him. I lean into his tall, strong body and let him hold me up.

The crowd breaks into applause now that I’m on my feet and I realize the games were on hold as the whole fire department checked me over for injuries. I lift a hand to wave at the onlookers and let them know I’m okay.

“Let’s get you over to the bench.” Logan directs me to where several camp chairs are set up on the edge of the rink.

“Alright everyone—we’re glad she’s okay. Let’s give her one more round of applause.” The crowd cheers as Logan settles me in a chair. He squats in front of me and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. I barely resist the urge to lean into his touch.

“Take the next event off and then we’ll get you back out there for the relay skate, okay?”

“Aye-aye captain,” I tease him.

Gladys plops into the chair next to me. “I’ll sit with her. You get out there and win the relay race. That Axle is talking big, but you can beat him.”

“Darn right I can.” He winks at me and swaggers away, his shoulders all broad and such.

I lean back in the chair and let out a sigh. Gladys fans my face. “You look like you’re overheating there.”

I swat her hands away and laugh. Before I can formulate a response, she says, “You know, Bailey, sometimes the things that scare us the most are exactly what we need to grow.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my lips. The human curling scared me and yet if I hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t have gotten that close to Logan. I also wouldn’t have hit my head, but that feels more like an aside. It’s only a dull thudding that should fade soon. The realization that I am a person who likes taking risks is bigger than the small inconvenience and pain.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of events. I find myself drawn into more activities than I’d planned, cheering for Logan and getting way more into a game of Snowball Dodgeball than is probably healthy. When Axel gets me out, I charge at him like a batter charging the plate. Logan hooks his arm around my middle and picks me up off the ground. “Easy there, Vixen. I’m all for taking Axel out, but he’s on duty tonight, so you can’t knock him out.”

I wiggle against his hold but it’s pointless. He spins us behind one of the blockades and out of range. He sets me down and I stomp my foot. The heat of the moment has passed and I’m ready to be civil again. “I’m going. I’m going.” I tug on my jacket and stalk away.

Logan chuckles behind me. I smile to myself. Today has been a day of reawakening, and I’m so glad I came.

Gladys is still in the game. She seems to be everywhere at once—like she’s disappearing and reappearing behind enemy lines to get someone out. She’s so fast, and I’m thrilled she’s on our side. I still don’t understand her story. She’s a mystery wrapped in a kind heart.

We end up winning, and Axel and his team slink to the hot chocolate stand to lick their wounds.

“Alright everyone. Gather ‘round and we’ll announce the winning team.”

Gladys comes to stand by me. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” She doesn’t seem out of breath even though she just covered ten miles of ground on the field of battle.

“I’m glad.” I put an arm around her shoulders. “You know, if you want to stay at my place, the invitation is always open.”

She leans her head on my shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rest of our team gravitates toward us, and we huddle together. Logan stands closer to the front, shoulder to shoulder with Axel. Their rivalry is always humming under the surface.

As the scores are announced, I brace myself. If we don’t win, will Logan be mad at me? I sat out of two events after hitting my head. We lost both of them and then we just lost the snowball fight.

“The winner is Axel and the Ax-men!”

Logan pounds Axel on the back in congratulations. Axel has to take a step forward to catch himself from the force of it. He gives Logan a cheeky grin as he climbs the three steps to the announcer’s stand to accept the trophy.

“Well folks, that concludes our annual Ice Games!” the announcer’s voice booms across the rink. “Let’s hear it for all our participants, and especially for our firefighters who organized this wonderful event. Thanks to your efforts, we’ve raised a record amount for the local hospital this year.”

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause. As people begin to disperse, gathering belongings and saying goodbyes, I find myself hanging back, unsure of where I fit in this moment.

Gladys hooks her arm through mine, and I take it like a lifeline. “I’m glad you’re here,” I tell her. It’s an honest feeling and, though it makes me feel vulnerable to admit it, I’m glad I do, because her smile tells me she’s touched by my words.

Geez, how many opportunities to encourage someone have I passed up because I’m afraid they’ll reject me?

Logan, who's been shaking hands and saying goodbye to the rest of the team, joins us. “Thank you for all your help today. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

His words stir something inside me, a longing for a connection that I’ve kept buried for so long. But old habits die hard, and I feel myself starting to retreat. “Well, I’m glad I could help,” I say, taking a step back. “I should probably get going...”

“Wait,” Logan says, reaching out to stop me. “A bunch of us are heading to Violet’s Diner for hot chocolate and pie. Would you like to join us?”

I hesitate, torn between the desire to accept and the fear of letting myself be vulnerable. It was one thing to participate in the games, it’s another to have to hold conversation over pie. “I don’t know...”

“Come on,” he encourages, his green eyes inviting. “It’s been a long day. You deserve to celebrate with the rest of us.”

I look past him to where the others are gathered, laughing and chatting. Mrs. Pennington catches my eye and waves, her smile welcoming. Even Axel, the supposed rival, is there, engaged in animated conversation with Big Mike.

And suddenly, I realize how tired I am. Not just physically, but emotionally. Tired of always being on the outside, of always protecting myself from potential hurt. I’m tired of being something I’m not.

“Okay,” I hear myself say. “I’ll come.”

The smile that lights up Logan’s face is almost worth the anxiety bubbling in my stomach. As we make our way toward the group, I feel a gentle touch on my arm.

Gladys grins at me. She doesn’t say anything—just smiles—and I warm from the toes up.

I can’t help but feel like I’ve taken more than just a single step today. I’ve leaped, headfirst, into unknown territory.

“Come on. I’m starving,” says Olivia.

We head off, walking the few blocks to the diner. The sound of laughter and friendly chatter fills the street, punctuated by the soft crunch of snow beneath our feet. Christmas lights twinkle, casting a warm glow over the sidewalk.

Logan slides into step beside me, never missing a beat in his conversation with Evelyn. His presence is overwhelming, but I’m starting to think that’s just him. He can’t help himself and I wouldn’t want him to.

I like him.

It’s terrifying, but I can’t lie to myself about my own feelings.

As Logan holds the diner door open for me, his smile warm and inviting, I take a deep breath and step inside.