No Pucks (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #1)

20. Logan

TWENTY

LOGAN

B efore I even open my eyes, my head pounds and my chest is tight in a way only being hungover makes you feel. But this isn’t from alcohol. No, this particular type of wake up only ever comes from fucking emotions.

No wonder I try to avoid them at all costs.

I pry open my lids to find Anthony laying on his side, facing me, still asleep, his hand stretched out between us like he’s reaching for me even in his unconscious state.

Get a fucking grip.

He’s not reaching for me. This is not the time or place to enter a delusional love phase. I lock myself back down so as not to be an embarrassment and slip out of bed. The sun is only just above the horizon, casting a sheen of gold over the Potomac. I run my hand through my hair. Where the fuck is my life going? How did I get here? And why do I not want to leave? It should be easy to walk out like I’ve done with countless other one-night stands, but I can’t with Anthony.

Anthony took my phone out of my hand last night and put it somewhere. I pick up my jock and slip it back on while I search for the rest of my things. I end up with a pile of my clothes but no phone.

I rub my eyes and exhale. I need coffee before I try to use my brain today. Thankfully, there’s a coffee maker in the room. I get a cup going and start a second as soon as it’s finished, because Anthony is stirring.

I bring both mugs to bed, setting one on his bedside with sugar and two creamer pods. He opens one eye as I slip back in.

“I could get used to this.”

“You like coffee in bed? That’s easy.”

He shakes his head, reaching out to grab my bare thigh. “No. Waking up to you in a jock.”

His cock tents the sheet, making it clear where his head is at. “No wonder you need a younger guy. You’re as horny as I am.”

“You bring it out in me.” He leans over to brush his lips across my hip.

I chuckle into my coffee and use my free hand to grip him through the sheet. “I’m not complaining, I promise.”

He groans against my skin. “Keep doing that.”

“I plan to. I want to make you come before I have to leave.” I play, twisting over him, using the sheet to my advantage with soft touches, edging him while I enjoy my coffee.

He feeds into it, biting my hip, my thigh, then curling around me to sink his teeth into my ass. I’m painfully hard under my jock.

“Put your cup down, or it’s ending up all over the bed.” Anthony flips his knee over my thighs, raising up over me.

I set it on the nightstand and then run my hands over his bare ass. “What do you want?”

“Look how compliant you can be. Why aren’t you this way on the ice?” He rubs his tip over my lips.

“Because hockey doesn’t come with your cock.” I part my lips to lick pre-cum off his tip.

“What if it did?”

I glance up, sucking on his head.

“I’ll reward you when you do what I tell you on the ice.”

I moan around his cock, my mouth too full to reply.

“Is that a yes?” He cups my face, forcing more of his dick down my throat.

I give a slight nod, the only thing I can manage with his hands and cock preventing more.

“Such a good boy. Now, swallow my cum.”

Gladly.

I reply to my brother when I get on the flight.

Logan: I’m going over there to tell her.

Logan: Send me the proof you have.

Evander: I’m emailing the proof.

Evander: I enlisted Grandfather to help.

Logan: You did what?

Evander: He was going to find out eventually and I needed cash.

Logan: I guess.

I’m not mad he did, but I know Mother won’t want anyone knowing.

Evander: Do you want me there?

Logan: No. But I need Dad out of the house. Can you distract him?

Evander: How?

Logan: I don’t know. Make something up.

Evander: I’m going to see if Grandfather can help. See if he can drag him out for the team.

Logan: okay

We land a few hours later, and I warn my brother I’m on my way over.

I knock despite having a key. The brownstone doesn’t feel like home any longer. Maybe it never did.

A few moments later, my mother pulls open the door, confusion pulling her forehead. “Logan, you didn’t tell me you were coming up for a visit.” She checks her watch. “Weren’t you flying home today?” She steps aside. “Come in.”

I slip in and remove my coat, handing it to the waiting housekeeper, Lena. She pats my cheek when I do, giving me a wink. She’s our former nanny and treats me as much like a mother as my real one. I smile, catching her hand to squeeze, loving her like one too.

“Can I get you some tea?” Lena asks me. “Your mother is in the middle of a pot in the sun room.”

“Please, Lena, that would be lovely,” my mother replies before I can. “You are staying, right?” She lifts a brow. “Your father had to run out, but he’ll be back if you came to see him.”

“Yes, I’m staying, and I came to see you.”

“Me? What a pleasant surprise.” She hugs me before we move to the sunroom.

We talk about the game for a few minutes as we wait for tea, but once Lena is gone, my mother’s body language changes, getting serious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything’s wrong?” I’m not sure why I don’t just say it. Ripping the Band-Aid off should be easier, but shattering her bubble doesn’t come readily.

“Are you going to be the kid who comes home once a month just to see me?” Her questions gives me pause.

“Do you want me to be?”

“Of course I want to see my oldest. No matter how independent you’ve been your whole life, I love you and always want you here.” She smiles, easing a little.

“I will make an effort to come home more. It’s just—hard with Dad here.” Maybe I could ease into it.

I’m so mad about being the one who has to do this.

She tilts her head. “I know he’s frustrated about the hockey situation, and I keep trying to tell him it doesn’t matter where you play. It should be about where you’re happy, and you’ve always been happiest in the city.”

I bring my cup to my lips, buying myself time. “He’s never going to accept it or, for that matter, what Evander decides. Look at how he’s acting over the damn boarding school.”

She nods thoughtfully. “I don’t know how to make him get over it.”

“Why are you dealing with it?” I ask, finding it hard suddenly to keep all my frustration over her forgiving him in check.

She presses her lips together. “What else would you like me to do?”

“You don’t have to back him up when he’s wrong.”

Why the fuck am I getting into this?

“I don’t when it comes to you,” she hedges.

“You do with Vander.” I realize I’m angrier about this than I thought. I got lucky as not-the-favorite.

“I know. I don’t know why your father acts like he does with your brother.” She exhales, not meeting my eyes. “Is that why you’re here? Your grandfather called me…”

“Kind of.” I set my cup down, shoving a hand into my hair. “There’s no good way to say this, but Dad is cheating again.”

Her gaze snaps to mine, searching my face. “Is it public?”

I shake my head. “Evander figured it out. I think Dad being so hard on him made him suspicious, but he couldn’t tell you.”

She puts her face into her hands.

I sit awkwardly, not sure if I should be comforting her or leaving. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says with a strained voice. “I’m sorry you felt you had to tell me.” Her tone changes, but I can’t read it.

“I didn’t want you to find out some other way.”

She nods, sitting up and wiping her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” I ask carefully, because she appears to have snapped. I flip from wanting to confront her to hoping we don’t own any weapons.

“I’m perfect.” She picks up the delicate tea cup and sips.

What do I do? I can’t leave her like this. She’s going to kill him.

“I’m going to level with you. I’m a little terrified.”

“Why, darling?” She smiles sinisterly.

“Because you…” How can I say this without sounding mean? Fuck. “Are you going to kill him?”

She laughs. “No, that would allow him to get off too easy.”

I cough. “Excuse me?”

She squares her shoulders. “I told him if he made me a fool again, I’d destroy him. And I’m going to do just that.”

Oh shit.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to start with barring him from Daddy’s team.” She checks her watch. “The game starts in a couple of hours, and I’m sure he’ll show up to sit in the owner’s box.”

“You mean you’re going to have him removed from the game?” I flinch. I hadn’t thought about Grandfather’s team since I’d moved out. One of the ways my father clings to fame is being seen at the games and helping manage it.

“He’s embarrassed me enough. Turnabout is fair play.” She’s entirely cool and calm. “I think escorting him out of the owner’s box is exactly what he deserves.” She’s acting far from what I expected. I don’t know what to say.

“I don’t disagree, but that’s not going to end well.”

She laughs. “Good. He can make it a bigger deal than it is. He deserves it.”

“Are you sure…?” I don’t even know where I’m going with the statement. I don’t think there is a person in the household who doesn’t hate him after the way he’d acted over the last decade, but I still don’t want our life playing out like a circus if they get back together. I’d had enough of that the first time she found out.

“I’m not letting him do this to me again.” She scoots forward in her seat and takes one of my hands in hers.

“No, you don’t deserve that. I’m not standing up for him.”

“I’m truly done. I’m sorry I’ve put you through this.”

“You seemed so happy recently. I didn’t want to. “

“I was. I don’t know why I believed he changed.” She exhales heavily. “I hate him for doing that to you more than anything else.”

“I hate that I’ve ruined that for you.”

She looks me directly in the eyes. “You didn’t ruin it. He did. It was fake anyway if this is how he’s still behaving.”

My chest warms a little, and some of the dread that built over the last few months eases. “I’m sorry. We thought he’d changed too.” A lie. He’ll never change. My father only cares about one person, and that’s himself.

“Do you have plans tonight?” my mother asks, a glint in her eyes.

“No…” An idea occurs to me. “Can I bring someone to the game?”

She lifts a brow. “Are you seeing someone?”

Panic ices my veins. “No! My coach.” This lie, I feel bad about. “I think he’d enjoy seeing the team he used to play for and—” I let her hang, a smirk forming on my mouth. “Dad hates him.”

“Excellent. Bring him.”