No Pucks (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #1)

33. Logan

THIRTY-THREE

LOGAN

M y heart stops.

If my father fucks this up, I will never forgive him, but the thought doesn’t give me any solace, because no matter how much I hate my father, it will never replace Anthony.

“Are you breaking up with me?” I pull back enough to look him in the eyes. “Because I don’t want you to do that.”

“I don’t want to break up with you, Logan.”

“But you have to because otherwise, they will find out?” I’m trying not to lose my shit, but keeping it together is not easy.

His brows pull, and he cups my face, bringing our mouths together. Anthony kisses me like he’s never going to leave me, but his eyes are saying otherwise. I don’t know which to believe.

“Please just tell me,” I say when we finally break apart. I brace myself for it, but even that, I don’t know how to do. I’ve never cared about anyone like I do Anthony.

“I think after this season, I should quit,” he says.

It’s the last thing I expected.

“What? You can’t do that! The team will never forgive me.”

“Isn’t it better to quit than to be fired? They are going to find out. Or your dad will win.” Anguish courses through him, and I hate my father more, which I didn’t think was possible.

“Make them fucking fire you. We’re careful, and my father is an asshole. They should have to pay out your entire fucking contract if they want to get rid of you.” I’m so mad. I want revenge, but I want to be here with him.

“They will weasel their way into not paying out my contract if they find out about us.”

“They won’t. My dad will have to make up some other stupid reason.” But I know I can’t promise that.

Anthony looks into my eyes with pain in his. “No job is worth losing you. It will get your father off your back and off mine. I’ll find another job.”

“And then what? Move to another city?” Sadness hits me like a puck to the solar plexus, completely knocking the wind out of me. “I don’t want that either, and the team will never forgive me.”

“Other than me murdering your father, I don’t know what to tell you.”

I press my face into his shoulder. “You’re not breaking up with me?”

“No.” He kisses my temple.

“You’ve only known me a year. Are you going to resent me for being the reason you’re quitting your job?”

“No. I know what I want.” His words break my heart.

“What do you fucking know?” I ask, wanting to hear the words.

“I know I’ve never felt this way with anyone else, and I’m not willing to lose it.”

But I can’t be the one to take this away from him. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“I’m sure I’ll find another coaching job easily with our season. I’ll try and stay close.”

“No.” The solution hits me, and I pull back. “If it’s that big a deal, I’ll quit. Hockey isn’t my life. I don’t want to be my father. I’d rather manage the team than play. If this is where my career ends, then it ends. They can’t be mad at you for dating me if I’m not on the team.”

“You are not fucking allowed to do that. You are becoming twice the player your father ever was.”

“I told you. I don’t want hockey to be my life. I have more than enough money, and if I want to work in hockey, good news—my grandfather owns a team.” I won’t let him resent me.

Anthony grabs my shoulders. “I’m not letting you do that.”

“Letting me?”

“You heard me.”

I lift a brow, slightly amused despite feeling every single other emotion simultaneously. “Okay, Ice Daddy.”

He sighs. “We will find another solution.”

“If you quit, I’m quitting.”

He narrows his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

I shrug. “I am a petty bitch. I’ll fucking transfer if you leave.”

Anthony fights a smile, but I win, and it spreads across his face. “I love you.”

My heart explodes, and I’m pretty sure my soul leaves my body. I shove him into the counter, kissing him aggressively. “I love you.”

He moans into my mouth, and we make out like neither of us has gotten laid in a long time. When we finally come up for air, he thrusts a hand into his hair.

“I need to sit down. My leg hurts, and I’ve got to think.”

I curl up against him on the couch, and we fall into silence.

“We have to figure out a plan. I know this will come to a head. I just wish there was a better way to shut your dad up.”

The solution occurs to me. It’s right there. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.

“I have an idea.”

“What?”

I shove off the sofa. “I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” He gets up to follow me, but I have the advantage here.

I quickly explain my plan, and I can tell he’s not sold. “I promise I’ll be back in like an hour. Trust me.”

He grumbles but agrees.

I leave before he can talk me out of it.