Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

Annie, Dad's Trip Day 1

Things are quiet with the team on the road. I've been watching the media coverage and enjoying the posts of Ed Karmeinski, Nate's dad, who is hilarious.

There's a post on Instagram from the team with a video of Ed interviewing the other dads and asking for their best dad jokes.

"This is a good one," says Brandon's dad Jeff. "What do you call a fake dad? A faux pas."

I grin.

"I know you're not a dad," Ed says to Nils' brother Iver. "But what's your best dad joke?"

"Where does the majority of a hockey player's salary come from?" Iver says in his Swedish accent. "The tooth fairy."

I laugh out loud.

Ed next asks Hunter Morrissette's dad, Mike for a contribution. "Last night my wife and I watched two movies back-to-back," he deadpans. "Luckily I was the one facing the TV."

That cracks me up again.

Ed doesn't ask Logan's dad to tell a joke. I hope things are going okay for Logan and him.

I'm doing laundry when I get a text.

LOGAN: Save me. My dad is picking fights with the other dads.

ANNIE: LITERAL FIGHTS???

LOGAN: No! Just stupid arguments.

ANNIE: About what?

LOGAN: Burr's dad was talking about too many dirty hits and Dad told him of course you don't like hits because you're only this tall

ANNIE: Those are fighting words!

LOGAN: Yeah fuck me

After a few seconds of the dots dancing around another text arrives.

LOGAN: He also told Coach he needs to bench players more often.

ANNIE: So it's going well then

I get a laugh emoji in return.

LOGAN: I hope I don't punch him before we get back.

ANNIE: You won't punch your own dad

LOGAN: Probably not. But it's all distracting me. I'm supposed to be napping right now.

ANNIE: I thought sleeping is your superpower

LOGAN: It is!

ANNIE: Put down the phone

LOGAN: Okay. Just needed to vent

ANNIE: I'm here anytime

LOGAN: Thanks.

ANNIE: Good luck tonight. Don't let that asshole Meyers get under your skin. Skate around him

LOGAN: Ha

Of course I watch the game. I'm settled on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn when Ivan comes home. He joins me and reaches a hand into the bowl.

I smack it away. "Get your own."

"Jesus. That's a huge bowl! You can share."

"You know I don't share popcorn."

He heaves a sigh. "Yeah."

"I'm a strong woman capable of many things, but sharing my popcorn is not one of them."

"Who's winning? Oh, no score."

"Not yet. The Bears are playing well though." I lean forward as Brandon intercepts a pass between two Condors players and heads to the Condors net. He passes to Easton who fakes a shot and passes it back to Brandon who puts it in the net. "Yesssss!" I throw my arms in the air. "That's it, baby!"

"Hmm. I don't think I've ever seen you this passionate about a hockey game unless one of your brothers is playing."

"I work for the team."

"Okay, yeah." He pauses. "What happens when the Bears play the Icehawks?" My brother Jakob's team. "Or the Bucks?" Tanner's team. "Or…wait for it…the Phantoms."

Jensen's team.

I wrinkle my nose. "Logan and Jensen have played against each other since that happened."

"But who will you cheer for?"

I chew on my bottom lip. "Nobody."

He laughs. "Okay."

I shove more popcorn into my mouth and focus on the play. Logan gets the puck and rushes to the net, cuts to the inside around a defenseman, then goes backhand, forehand, shoots the puck…and scores!

I'm so excited popcorn goes everywhere. "Oh my God!" I cry. "Did you see that?"

Ivan shakes his head. "He scored."

"Yeah, but did you see that move? Wait, they'll replay it. Watch, watch." We watch a number of slow-motion replays while the commentators exclaim over Logan undressing the Florida Dman. "Beautiful!"

"You're going to take credit for that, aren't you?"

"Oh hell yeah I am!" I laugh, happiness bubbling up inside me. I clean up the popcorn and settle back down, the Bears now leading two-nothing. I pick up my phone to check what social media has to say about that goal. I laugh when I see Ed Karmeinski's posts with a play-by-play commentary of the game.

DID YOU SEE THAT MOVE! LOCO YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD!

I send Logan the post, even though he won't see it until later, repeating the "you beautiful bastard" line with a big smile emoji.

Between the second and third periods Ivan loses interest in the game and goes to bed. The Bears are leading four-nothing, with goals from four different players. I'm so glad they're playing well in front of the dads. So I watch the end of the game alone, trying not to think about those two little words that start with S and O. With a couple of minutes left in the third, Florida pulls their goalie, and then the Bears take a stupid tripping penalty! Gah!

I sit on the edge of the couch, every muscle tense as I watch Florida keep the puck in the Bears end, cycling it around and around. Of course they're dominating, with a two man advantage. My eyes follow the action. "Come on, guys! Get it out of there!"

But Florida's controlling the play. And getting shots on net.

It's not like we're going to lose, if they score one goal. But…for our goalie Colton's sake, I don't want that to happen. Finally I can exhale when the horn blares and the game is over. Everyone mobs Colton to congratulate him on the shut out, and when he takes off his mask he's wearing a huge, sweaty smile.

I clap my hands even though I'm alone. Yay!

Then I send Logan another message.

ANNIE: Congrats on the win!

I sink back into the couch. I did that without even thinking. He texted me earlier. So I'm sure he's okay with it. Whatever.

It's way late now, so I turn off the TV and go to bed.

* * *

Dad's trip day 2

LOGAN: Did you see my goal

ANNIE: No, I missed it sorry. YES I SAW IT THAT WAS AMAZING. Impressive edgework

LOGAN: I knew you were going to say that

ANNIE: I'm gonna make sure everyone knows I'm responsible for that

LOGAN: I knew you were going to say that too

I laugh, a fun, effervescent feeling in my chest.

LOGAN: We're golfing today. Guess who Dad and I are paired with?

I tap my fingers on the counter in the kitchen where I'm drinking coffee.

ANNIE: Tag and Josh.

LOGAN: Yes! Fuck me sideways with a golf club and no lube

I collapse into laughter. When I've recovered enough to type, I message him back:

What's so bad about that?

LOGAN: BEING FUCKED WITH A GOLF CLUB?

Still dying, I reply,

No, golfing with the Hellers.

LOGAN: Dad's going to have his head so far up Tag Heller's ass I'm gonna be so embarrassed

ANNIE: You're not responsible for your dad.

LOGAN: Okay

ANNIE: Have fun! It's a cool time

LOGAN: I'll try.

I smile at my phone.

LOGAN: What are you doing today?

ANNIE: Watching video from last night

LOGAN: Jesus. Well you have fun too

ANNIE: I will

Still smiling, I finish my coffee and scrambled eggs.

* * *

Dads trip day 3

LOGAN: Dad's pissed because I didn't go after Delorme for that hit on Wendy

I'm in bed. The game ended over an hour ago but I'm still awake.

ANNIE: Oh no

LOGAN: Did you see it

ANNIE: Yeah. It was ugly

LOGAN: It was. But Wendy was okay and Delorme got a penalty for it and we got a PP and scored. If I'd fought Delorme, we'd have both ended up in the box.

ANNIE: That goddamn code

LOGAN: That's what Dad said! It's THE CODE. Jesus. You can't fight a guy every time there's a clean hit

ANNIE: Some would say you should

LOGAN: You?

ANNIE: Not me!

LOGAN: He went on and on about how these days there's no code and you have to protect the guys who are game changers even if it's a clean hit because you don't want guys taking liberties and running star players, you have to have each other's backs and…shit, that all sounds positive.

ANNIE: I get it. Sometimes a good fight gets the team going

LOGAN: I know

ANNIE: But you have to play smart. You also don't want your game changers to be sitting in the box for fighting for no reason

LOGAN: Yeah. I knew you'd get it. I'm just tired of arguing with my dad.

I stare at my phone. My stomach knots. I want to say I'm sorry, that I hate his dad, that Logan's right about everything. Impulsively, I hit the button to call him.

It barely rings before he answers. "Hey."

"Hey. You okay?"

He sighs heavily. "Yeah."

"Where are you? In your room?"

"Yeah. We went out after the game but I said I was tired and came back here."

"I'm sorry about what your dad said."

"Don't be sorry. It's just the way he is." I hear a rustling noise. "I just wish I didn't care."

My heart clenches. "Of course you care. He's your dad. We all want our parents' approval." I snort. "I might not be the best one to talk about that, though."

"Why not?

I tug the duvet up under my chin. "As I kid, I felt like my brothers got all the attention. All the approval. Especially when I tried playing hockey. So I…acted out. I was never going to live up to them, so why even try? I got an attitude. Started drinking and smoking weed. Once, I took the car without their permission. I didn't even have a license."

He makes a low noise. "I am shocked, Annie Bang. But did you die?"

I choke out a laugh and close my eyes. "No, and neither did anyone else, luckily. Okay, that might not be the worst thing a teenager has ever done to rebel, but it was a lot for me. It was when I almost got suspended by my figure skating club that I got scared."

"Scared straight." Amusement colors his voice.

"Well, yeah. I guess I wasn't too far down a criminal path, but still. Anyway, my point is we all want to make our parents proud. We know our parents have sacrificed for us. Jesus, especially parents of athletes. And I don't think we lose that when we grow up."

After a couple of beats of thick silence, he says, "Yeah."

"Have you had a conversation with him about it? Like, not an argument when he's said something dumb, but at another time, when you're both calm."

"No." His reply comes slowly.

I hitch a shoulder. "Maybe you should do that. Think about it ahead of time and plan what you want to say to him. Tell him how it makes you feel."

"Oh, yeah. Dad looooves talking about feelings."

I smile ruefully at the sarcasm. "I get it. But you could." I pause. "Remember at the start of the season, in the Poconos, when Easton and Josh and Hunter were talking about Play Well?"

More dense silence. Then he says, "Yeah."

"They talked about this. About not being able to talk about their feelings."

"I remember." His voice is low and rough.

"They could probably help you figure out what you want to say to your dad. Like, part of growing up into an independent adult is forming your own opinions and values, even if they're different than your parents'."

"Uh-huh." He's quiet again for a moment, but I stay quiet, too. "You're killing me, Mini."

One corner of my mouth lifts and I roll my eyes. "How so?"

"Because you're right."

My smile deepens. "I know I am."

"You know what would make me feel better?"

"What?"

"If you show me your boobs."

I cough out a laugh. "Oh my God."

He chuckles.

"They're small," I tell him. Like he doesn't know that.

"I don't care if you have small boobs. I still want to see them."

Is he serious? Because that's kind of hot, but also… "You won't take any screenshots, will you?"

"Fuck, no. In fact, let's do a video call. We can see each other."

"Ohhhh." My heart kicks against my ribs.

My phone rings from a different app. My skin tingles everywhere as I end one call and accept the other. There's his face, a little blurry in the dim light of his hotel room. He's in bed, like I am, white pillows piled behind his head.

He smiles.

That smile gets me every time. His eyes crinkle up and his teeth flash white.

I smile back and tuck my hair behind my ear. "You really want to do this?"

"So damn much." He pauses. "But only if you do, too."

My heart flutters at his thoughtfulness. "I do."

He slowly pushes the white covers down his chest, moving his phone away from him so I see more. My gaze tracks over the ridges of his abs. At the trail of hair beneath his navel.

"Hang on," he says in a husky tone. "Let me get my phone set up."

I do the same, turning on a lamp, finding a good spot, and propping it up. Then I unbutton my pajama top. One. Button. At. A. Time.

He groans. "Watch me jerk off while you play with your pussy." His hand grips his cock. I swallow thickly at the sight, so erotic and dirty. Like my own personal porn movie. But even better, because it's Logan.

Hot desire slides through me and I'm so wet, I can tell without even touching myself.

I part the sides of my shirt, revealing my breasts.

"Fucking perfect," he growls. "Touch yourself."

I cup my tits and give my own nipples a pinch. "It feels better when you do it."

His smile is filthy. "Of course it does. I wish I could suck on those pretty nipples."

God. I'm dissolving. "I wish I could squeeze your cock."

"I wish that, too. Jesus." His hand moves, up and down, the head of his cock glistening in the low light. He rubs his thumb over the moisture. "Are you wet?"

"Oh yeah."

"Are you sure?" He lifts an eyebrow. "You should check."

I slip a hand under the elastic waistband of my shorts. "So wet."

"Christ. I'm gonna come in, like, two seconds."

I let out a muted moan. "I'll try…"

"No. Take your time. I can hold off." His jaw tenses and his hand slows. "Show how me you make yourself come."

I slick up wetness onto my fingers and find my clit, sensitive and aching. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I force myself to keep my eyes open and on the small screen as I rub there. He watches me with an intense, hungry expression and that makes me even more turned on. His body is shadowy but still beautiful. Veins stand out on his forearm and his big hand on his thick shaft is obscene but so, so sexy. I stare at his muscular thighs and the fullness of his balls at the base of his shaft and I want to touch them so bad.

"I wish I was there," I whisper. "I wish I could touch you there. And lick you. And suck you."

"Awwww, damn." His eyelids lower to half-mast. "Same, baby." His breathing is ragged, mixed with groans and curses.

Sweet pleasure gathers low inside me, a thread that I clench down on. It grows and twists and expands and ripples from my center, sensation sliding down my arms and legs and weakening me. I whimper and cry out, my eyes closing, vaguely aware of Logan grunting. "That's it baby, come so hard."

I let out another near-sob, shuddering and contracting, and then I drag my eyes open to watch Logan's hand do the same for him, pumping faster and faster, his abs clenching, his jaw tightening. "Awwww…fuuuuuck…" His thighs move and he grunts again. "Watch me…are you watching me? Watch me empty my balls for you…yeah…uhhhh…aaah…" Thick white semen splashes onto his firm stomach and thigh and slides over his fingers. "Oh fuck." He lets out short breaths as his hand slows and his other hand squeezes the wet glans and more semen drips.

I have never seen anything so hot. I can hardly breathe and my skin is burning. I press my thighs together and roll to my side, facing the phone. "God, Logan."

"Yeah. Yeah." He's still panting. "That was fucking gorgeous, Annie."

"Mmmm."

His eyes flicker open a moment later and he smiles again and my heart melts down to my toes. I pull the covers up over me and hold my phone on the pillow next to my face. He does the same.

"I feel so much better," he mumbles, smiling.

I grin. "Wow, me too. I bet you'll sleep now."

"Yep."

"Good. You need it." I pause. "Good night, Logan."

"You sleep, too, beautiful. We'll be back tomorrow."