Page 3 of No Pucks

“Only made worse by when they’re lovey-dovey.”

We both shudder.

“Gross. Let’s get playing happy family over so I find my next victim.” I take a breath before leading the way inside.

“Victim? Have you graduated to snuff?”

“Not hardly. But I have time. Just the normal older guy for me today.” I laugh, glancing around to see if I can spot my father. He loves fanfare and admiration, which makes him easy to find. “Help me find Dad. Please.”

Evander grumbles but follows. “I haven’t seen him all afternoon.”

“I don’t see him, so he’s probably still in his room getting ready. You know he’ll be late. He’s always late.” I head for the elevator.

As a former professional hockey player turned team-owner socialite, our father likes to look good.

Evander leans against the wall as we wait. “I’ll tell him Mother is waiting. You know he doesn’t like to piss her off. Then, we’ll walk the carpet, and you can go off to stalk your prey. Have you decided who you’re going after tonight?”

“I saw someone, but you smacked me and I lost him. Are you offering a suggestion or just being nosy?” We step on to the elevator, and I push the button before I turn on my brother.

“Nosy. I’ve made a mint betting on who you can score.” That sounds strange coming from Evander.

“I told you to stop telling your friends about my exploits.” I narrow my eyes as I stroll out onto our floor, stopping in front of our parents’ door.

“They’re harmless. Most of them just want to live vicariously through you.” Evander winks and shoves into their room with me on his heels, but I slam into his back when he stops a few paces in.

“What the fuck, Vander—” My words cut off when my father comes into focus, balls deep in a woman who’s decidedlynotour mother.

As if time stops, none of us move.

The only person who reacts is the woman. “Why’d you stop?!” When she looks around, she notices us and shrieks.

I dry heave and look at the ceiling, desperately needing a bottle of brain bleach.

That seems to get my father moving, and he pulls the sheet off the bed to half cover his erection. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

Is he fucking kidding?

“Oh? What the fuck is it if it’s not what it looks like?” I barely bite back my anger.

“It’s not a thing, and we do not need to tell your mother,” he continues, putting on all his charm that has never worked on me.

“You promised.” I inhale sharply, knowing I have to tell her but not wanting to ruin her favorite event of the year.

“It was a slip. Again, nothing to ruin your mother’s night over…”

I hold up a hand and press my eyes closed. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Logan…”

I open my eyes and lock them with my father. “Get fucking dressed. If you take a minute longer…” I don’t need to finish—he knows.

My father stalks towards us, still alarmingly naked and babbling a bunch of bullshit. I don’t give him time to speak, dragging Evander out of the room and slamming the door in our father’s face.

“I have to tell Mother,” I say, slumping against the back wall of the elevator. I know the man is incapable of change, but I really hoped this time. They’d almost divorced about ten years ago when it all came out in a huge scandal. My father was newly retired and apparently couldn’t find anything better to do with his newfound time than chase puck bunnies.

He promised it was a one-time lapse in judgement and begged Mother for forgiveness. They reconciled, but I guess second chances only make better liars.

“I can…” Evander puts his hand on my shoulder.

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