Page 86 of No Pucks

“Logan?” a voice calls from downstairs, and my blood runs cold.

TWENTY-SIX

LOGAN

“Ithought you said she was on a mountain,” Anthony hisses as he scrambles out of the blankets, panic written all over his face.

“I guess it’s possible she lost her phone on the side of the mountain?” I shove a hand into my hair, brain flipping into damage control, trying to clear out the cobwebs from the wine. “I’m on the roof, Mother. I’ll be down in a second.” I scan Anthony.

“What the fuck are we going to say?” he says between his teeth.

“I’ll think of something.” I smooth a hand over my shirt and head towards the stairs.

“She’s here? You don’t have anything yet?”

I shrug and descend, coming face to face with my mother at the bottom. “Mother! You’re home early.” I hug her.

She kisses my cheek. “Darling. Did you bring a guest home?” She’s full of curiosity when she pulls back.

“I did.” I play at ease. “I found out my coach had nowhere to go for the holidays, and he was going to spend them alone, so I invited him to spend them with us.”

Anthony comes up behind me at some point and gives a half wave like the awkward but adorable recluse he is. “Mrs. Cox. It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Call me Claire.” My mother purses her lips, looking between the two of us. “Nice to see you again, Hawke.”

“Please, call me Anthony.”

“It’s wonderful to have you.” She meets my eyes. “Why don’t you come say hello to your brother and then I can have the guest room made up.”

“He’s home?” I’m eager to see how he survived the semester. “Yes, that’s why we’re back early. I got word from the lawyer I can remove him from school.”

A weight comes off my chest. “And he doesn’t have to go back?”

“Nope. He can transfer to a school of my choosing.”

We take the stairs down to my brother’s room.

He’s draped over his massive bean bag.

“How’s freedom?” I ask, toeing his leg when he doesn’t pick up his head.

“Better knowing I don’t have to go back in two weeks,” he mutters. “Where’s James? Is he here yet?”

I turn to my mother. “Are we expecting James too?”

“Yes. I invited him before I realized our guest room was spoken for.” She’s still got that look on her face.

“He can stay in my music room—or anywhere else. It’s not that big of a deal. I have to go back to school in a couple of days anyway,” I tell her.

“Always training.” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Come help me open up the room and get sheets for your sofa.”

We take the elevator down to the laundry room.

“Are you trying to set me up with that man?” my mother asks as soon as she closes the door to the laundry room.

“What?” I blink. She thinks…? Wow. I try not to laugh.

“Good. He’s attractive, but I am not ready to date again. I am still grieving my marriage, and I don’t know how long I will be processing this.”

---