Page 75 of Puck Drop
I put the phone down and get up from my chair by the pool, rushing inside the house, happy to greet my man. I’m sure he will like that, especially after all the days when I could barely make myself to wave hello to him.
When I walk in, I realize that his phone is ringing from the bedroom that we share. I head that way, expecting to see him in there, either changing out of his clothes or maybe using thebathroom. I frown in confusion when I find the room empty, but his phone is laying in the middle of the bed, ringing furiously.
Just as I approach the bed, it stops ringing. But not even five seconds later, it goes off again.
“Logan,” I call out, “your phone is ringing.”
I wait for him to respond, but there’s nothing. I walk outside of the bedroom and over to the rest of the house. I don’t see him anywhere. I open the garage door to see if his car is parked outside, but it’s not there. He must’ve forgotten his phone at home.
Meanwhile, the annoying ringtone of his phone continues blaring from the bedroom. Every few rings it stops, and then it starts again, over and over. Deciding that it must be important, I run back to the bedroom and grab the offensive device sitting on top of the comforter. I frown at the screen when I recognize that it is New York City area code. I slide the bar to the left and answer the call.
“About time you answered your freaking phone,” a woman’s voice yells from the other end of the line.
“Uh, hello? Are you looking for Logan?”
There’s a short pause where she doesn’t say anything. I almost wonder if she hung up, and I’m about to put the phone back down when I hear her again.
“Elizabeth?” the woman asks.
Her voice sounds familiar,like I’ve talked to her before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Yes, this is Elizabeth,” I say.
“This is Leyla,” she tells me. She sounds annoyed that I did not recognize her voice.
I press a hand to my chest, wondering what this is about. Leyla is in charge of the PR at my father’s hockey team, the NewYork Sliders. I haven’t talked to her in a long time. In fact, she helped me a little bit when I was looking for a job in Austin.
Leyla’s worked for my father‘s organization for a few years now, but I was never there enough to form any type of a relationship with her. I did see her at our house once in a while, but I always assumed that it was something business related, and I never asked any questions. We also ran into each other at any social events my father would ask me to attend with him.
“Leyla,” I say now. “I’m so sorry. I was not expecting to hear your voice. Is everything okay with my father?
She lets out a small sound of annoyance. “Your father is fine, I’m not calling about him. I was calling to talk to Logan.”
My eyes go around the room, like I’m expecting for Logan to pop out of nowhere.
“He’s not here,” I tell her.
“It is very important that you have him call me back, okay?” I get miffed by the way she talks to me, like she doesn’t believe that I’ll remember to have Logan return her call.
“What happened?” I can’t help myself but ask.
She sighs into the phone, but this time it is not the condescending tone that she had before. This time… she just sounds sad.
“I probably shouldn’t share this with you first,” she starts. “But from what I understand, you live with Logan now, right?”
I nod in response, but then I remember that she cannot see me. “Yes.”
“There’s been an accident,” she says. “His former teammates from the New York Sliders are involved, and also one of his current teammates from the Aces.”
I instantly cover my mouth with my hand, knowing exactly who she’s talking about, but I ask anyway. “Sebastian?”
“Yes,” Leyla confirms.
“Is it bad? What happened?”
“I honestly don’t have the time to give you all the details,” she tells me in a tired tone. “It will probably be on the news soon enough anyway, but I wanted to make sure I let Logan know about Sebastian. The next few hours are going to be chaotic, but please have him try and call me. If I’m able to answer, I definitely want to talk to him.”
“I promise that I will.”
