Page 37 of No Pucks

Everyone shushes him, but it’s too late. He’s given me an idea.

“Not anymore. I expect you all at the rink at six a.m.”I look each one of them in the eyes.

They all groan.

Archangel gets a confused look. “Isn’t that the time the figure skaters have the rink? They won’t let us?—”

Wolfe puts an arm around him, cutting him off. “You’ve taken too many pucks to the head. Let’s not make it worse.”

“Oh!” Archangel expression changes to one akin to the gritty face emoji. “Don’t worry, Coach. We will be there and ready to share the ice.”

“Shhhh.”

“Did I fuck up again?” His expression gets worse, which I didn’t think possible.

“It’s okay. You’re still my favorite himbo.” Wolfe pats his back.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, and I turn around before I feel bad or worse—laugh— “Get this fucking cleaned up.”

I stomp back down the block, already planning the worst practice of their lives, when Logan—Cox catches up to me. I need to remind myself who he is, who his father is and what kind of dynamite I’m playing with here. Cox Sr. would love a reason to burn me to the ground. I can’t give him an avenue through his son.

“What?” I ask when he doesn’t speak.

“I just thought I’d walk you home.”

I glance over at him.

“You’re new to the city. You could easily get lost.” Every step he takes brings him closer to my place, closer to the end of my resolve.

How long can I say no for?

“I went to school here, which you know.” My blood boils—unfortunately not with just rage, but with this need only he seems to ignite, the punishment he has coming for riding the line he promised not to cross.

“The city is alive. It changes.” The alcohol relaxes him a bit, giving me a softer side, much the opposite of the cocky, funny guy he puts on at practice.

Fuck.

I’ve thought about this too many times. How easy it would be to take out everything I’ve pent up on his mouth again.

I have to find a way to be around him without getting a halfy. “It can’t change. The layout of the city has been this way for over a hundred years!”

“Maybe you’re directionally challenged?” He lifts his shoulders. “I’m just a nice guy seeing you home.”

“I’m your coach. I should be seeing you home, making sure you get there so you can play well this weekend.” My stomach drops as I realize he and the rest of the team will probably head to another bar since this got shut down. It’s what we would have done when I was a God, and if Logan goes back there… I don’t let myself finish the thought. I don’t want anyone else touching him, and I know that’s selfish.

I know Logan’s type. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he finds it somewhere else. It’s easy for him. Hell, it’s easy for all hockey players. I don’t want to tell him to go back, but he can’t come into my apartment. That’s crossing a line I can’t ever come back from.

“You can walk me home if you want.” When I don’t say anything, he goes on, “And I know the perfect way for you to ensure I stay in bed for the rest of the night.”

TWELVE

LOGAN

Anthony’s steps falter, and he studies me. “You know I can’t be seen in the dorms.”

“It’s not like a traditional dorm room, silly. My mother wants me to be normal, but they are more like shared townhouses, so I have my own space.”

“Do you think I want to be fired?” He glances around like we’re being followed or something. “Just being in your building would look bad.”

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