Page 65 of No Pucks

“Stop using my words against me.” He rubs his nose over mine, and for a moment, it’s like I have the real Logan. He’s still an ass, but softer. “I won’t be doing that.”

“Come to bed with me.”

He sighs. “I can’t. I have to go.”

“Where are you going to go? We have a flight home tomorrow, and it’s late. You can’t do anything rational tonight. Just come to bed.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he says, giving in. He laces his fingers in mine and lets me tug him towards the bed.

We slip under the covers and tangle up in one another, but it’s not exactly sexual. Logan presses his face into my neck.

“What can I do?” I ask against his temple.

“Nothing. I have to tell her.”

“Why are you getting in the middle of it?” I hold him to me.

His breathing eases. “Because if I don’t tell her, the media eventually will, and no one should be forced into that position by the person they love or the fucking tabloids.”

“What a shit position, but I know all about it. I found out my wife was cheating by getting sent tabloid photos.”

Logan picks his head up to look into my eyes. “What?”

“I came to interview for the job here after our nasty divorce. She dragged me through the mud for eighteen months after she cheated on me with another fucking hockey player and had the audacity to tell me before I left for my interview that she couldn’t wait until I moved so she didn’t have to remember what a disappointment of a husband I was by seeing me around.”

“Why the fuck were you a disappointment?”

“Because I retired early, injured. I think she missed the lifestyle and money. She spent it like it was going out of style and then took most of the rest of what I had, which is why I needed a job. We would have been fine leading a normal life.” My words carry no anger. I don’t hold it anymore. I’m much happier here than with her dark cloud over my head.

He curls his upper lip. “There aren’t words vile enough for me to say right now.”

“It was a pretty bad couple of years, but that week was low.”

He cups my cheek, rubbing his thumb over my skin. “I walked in on my father fucking some puck bunny a few hours before I met you. So we were both having a rather bad night.”

“And your mother didn’t leave him?”

“He begged for a second chance.”

“And he’s already back to it?” I blink. “What a piece of shit.”

“He’s great at manipulating her, and she’s in love with him.”

“Will telling her even do any good?”

He lifts his shoulders. “She deserves to hear it from me before it embarrasses her. After that, it’s her choice.”

“No matter what she does, you need to wash your hands of it after this. If she chooses to stay, you can’t make it your life.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

I open my mouth but stop myself. I’m about to put myself out there, and I can’t tell if any of it is a good idea. But Krista’s words stick out to me. I’m already doing it. Why am I pussyfooting around?

“Come over after.” It’s not an ask.

TWENTY

LOGAN

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