Frankie
True story
Logan
Then this afternoon we’re going to a school to surprise some kids who are getting skating lessons
Frankie
oh my God I love that
Frankie
Please send photos
CHAPTER 35
LOGAN
There are two options for avoiding Wilson before practice today. Either go really fucking early and keep myself busy, or slide in right before we start.
The latter is riskier, because if I’m late, I’m fucked.
So I get to our practice facility a full hour before we’re needed on the ice, and after grabbing a smoothie, I make myself scarce until it’s time to lace up. I spend the time while I’m hiding scrolling back through our text messages. As I read them, I spin my ring on the chain around my neck, thinking about the way Frankie’s sweet pussy looked as she made herself come.
And then it’s a spiral of horny thoughts. The look on her face when she comes apart for me, over and over again. The way she holds my gaze, because what we have is fucking precious. How good that perfect cunt felt clenching down on my cock when we were together.
I’m not blushing, exactly, but I do feel a certain way. Protective, emotional.
I’m so fucking tempted to put my ring on my hand. It’s where it belongs. But I can’t invite questions, so I tuck the chain back under my base layer shirt before I get changed.
As soon as I get on the ice, Wilson blows his whistle and gestures for me to come over.
So much for staying low profile.
“Didn’t see you when I came in,” he says when I stop in front of him. He says it conversationally, arms crossed, his expression unreadable, but I know it’s a trap.
Nothing I ever do will be good enough for this man.My fucking father-in-law, apparently.“I was here.”
“You’re a leader on this team, Granger.” He doesn’t call me Lego. Didn’t like it the first time we met, when he was hired on mid-season last year to replace the last guy who couldn’t get us into the playoffs. He’s strictly used my last name ever since.
“I understand.”
“On the road trip, you were always on the third bus.”
Yeah, because I was avoiding the fuck out of him. “I hear you, I should be on the first bus.”
“I’m always on the first bus.”
“Without fail,” I say.
His eyes narrow. “The attitude isn’t necessary.”
What the fuck. Is the attitude in the rink with us? But I don’t fucking care today. I’ll stand here and agree with him all day long. Tonight, I get to hear about his daughter’s day, and make her laugh, and tease her about her pretty blush.
I give him a blank stare and try to figure out what part of his grouchy, narcissistic jerk is genetically connected to the ray of sunshine who made my birthday so damn special.
“If you get here sooner, you can be more of a leader in the room. If you’re a leader in the room, your teammates trust you more as a leader on the ice. You get away with too much by trying to do it all yourself.”
