Chapter 36
FRANKIE
We find a strange but nice routine. Despite the three-hour time zone difference, we wake up around the same time most days.
I watch most of Logan’s games, and he gets deeply invested in hearing about my ortho rotation.
By the time I’m making dinner, he’s usually home from the rink and ready for bed.
I barely have any spare time, so he pauses the book we were going to read together, and downloads two more books that I’ve enjoyed in the past. Neither of them grip him the way that The Mist at Dawn’s Edge did, but he doesn’t mind, he just likes reading from my bookshelf.
Buffalo goes on a points streak, winning six of their next eight games, and only losing in overtime in the other two.
They go on a road road trip with their moms and mentors in the middle of that hot streak. I hold my breath, expecting that to be a thing, because my mother is on that trip too, but Logan reports that it goes off without a hitch.
The hockey gossip accounts that Sloane follows on social media have latched on to the potential return of Buffalo to the playoffs after fifteen years, the longest postseason drought in pro sports.
And as January comes to a close, and the All-Star Break is around the corner, it feels like we might just have figured out how to have a long-distance secret marriage.
Which means it’s probably time to start planning for the next step in our relationship—moving from secret to not-so-secret, and living together in the summer.
Logan isn’t going to the All-Star Game, which means he has a full week of vacation and can come back to LA for a visit where we’ll get to spend five nights together.
We could use that time to find a house.
We should use that time to find a house, which is a wild thought that makes me feel all fluttery and lightheaded.
His final game in January is another match against Hamilton, this time in their arena. Because the two teams are so close together, just a little more than an hour apart, Buffalo travels there on a bus.
I’m catching up on patient charts when Logan sends me a selfie of himself, in a window seat, and he’s got his index finger looped through his ring, holding it up to his lips so he can kiss it.
I save the photo to my phone, my heart pounding.
Frankie
Put that thing away before someone sees it
Logan
Nobody’s ever noticed, it’s fine
Logan
What are you doing?
Frankie
The glamorous work of an almost doctor…paperwork
Logan
How many goals do you want me to score tonight?
Frankie
Seventeen
He sends back a laughing emoji.
Frankie
Because that’s the number of houses I’ve saved to go look at this weekend with Sloane
Logan
Are you serious?
Frankie
I think it’s time to spend some of your money
Logan
Thattagirl
Logan
Hey, remember that I’m going to my sister’s place after the game tonight, so I may not be alone until the middle of the night
Frankie
Middle of the night for you is just a late bedtime for me…time zone win!
And then my pager goes off.
Frankie
I have to go. Have a great game tonight, I’ll be watching!
I get home an hour into the game. I haven’t looked at my phone since it started, because I don’t want to know how it’s going.
When I race in the front door, Sloane is stretched out on the couch, reading a textbook.
“Can I watch hockey in here?”
“Sure.” She lifts her feet, making room for me.
I find the game and restart it from the beginning, fast forwarding through the pregame chatter and national anthems, going straight to the puck drop.
Logan takes the face off at the center dot, and then immediately scores, getting the first goal against Hamilton eighty seconds in.
He does a victorious celly, kissing his glove to loud boos as he skates away from his sister’s fiancé, Alexei Artyomov. The Highlanders goalie has some choice words for his future brother-in-law as well, making the announcers chuckle. I giggle and kick my feet, which amuses Sloane.
She sets her textbook aside. “Do you want a beer?”
I shake my head. “Dry January has been good for my sleep.”
“Water?”
“Please.”
She races to the kitchen and returns with cold beverages.
The game gets vicious after Logan’s goal. Kieran Marsh scores five minutes later, tying it up and making the home crowd roar with joy.
And then it’s nothing but a tug of war for the rest of the game, spilling the tied 1-1 game into overtime.
We’re on the edge of our seats as five minutes of three-on-three play ticks by. This is a very different style of hockey, more keep away than anything else.
“Are they going to shoot it?” Sloane asks more than once.
“I dunno,” I whisper every time.
But then the announcers explain that if they take a shot and miss, they’ll turn over possession of the puck and be out of position, creating a prime scoring chance for the other team.
So…more keep away games, until overtime runs out, and everyone looks completely ragged.
“What happens now?” Sloane asks.
My gaze doesn’t leave the screen. “A shootout.”
Hamilton elects to shoot first, and Ty Connor is up. He scores, bar down.
Sloane squeaks. Logan is Buffalo’s first shooter. He approaches Artyomov slowly, but this time his sister’s fiancé is ready for him, and gets his blocker up in time.
Shaking his head, Logan heads back to the bench, pausing just long enough to whisper something to Cooper Bernhardt.
Marsh shoots for Hamilton, but the Buffalo goalie gets his whole chest in front of the puck.
Bernhardt takes his place at center ice.
“Let’s go Coop,” someone calls, interrupting the silence of the moment.
He picks up speed.
Artyomov comes out to meet him, and then something happens really quickly, it looks like Bernhardt is going to shoot the puck, but he doesn’t, he drags it to the side, and the big Russian goalie tries to get over, but he can’t, and Coop shovels it into the net.
A small but mighty contingent of Buffalo fans who made the drive down the highway goes nuts.
There’s one more shot for Hamilton, but it feels like the game is already won.
The camera zooms in on Logan and Cooper as they fist bump each other, and then Logan looks straight into the camera and winks at me.
I bump Sloane’s knee with my leg. “Hey, do you want to come house hunting with me this weekend?”
“Yeah?” She glances from me to the TV and back again. “Are you going to let him buy you a house?”
“I mean, it’s real estate in LA. It’s a good investment. I’m just going to live in it.” I squirm as she stares at me.
“Fuck yeah,” she whispers. “Let’s go find you an amazing house.”