Chapter 20

TWENTY

Logan

Our Saturday night game against Buffalo is a barn burner.

I met with Coach yesterday and he told me he's making changes to the lineups and wants me to play with Morrie and Brando again. He likes how we played the other night against Washington. He wants to use our strengths together.

This is what I've been working for. Second line minutes. A chance to show what I can do.

The bad thing is my buddy J-Bo is down in the dumps about it all. We went for a beer yesterday. He's pissed at himself but he knows we're all on the same team and we have to do what's best for the team.

I was pumped for the game tonight. Nothing like your coach's confidence in you to fire up your own confidence. And it showed. Once again, Morrie and Brando and I were on fire. Five points between the three of us in a game that ended six-two. I made some good hits that caused an uproar on the Buffalo bench. But we stayed disciplined.

I'm still riding the high of it after the game as I shower and dress. Tonight some guys are going out again, this time to a club. Which reminds me of Annie and running into her that night and dancing with her.

We haven't talked or even texted since the night I ran into her and her parents after the game. I had some major second thoughts about us that night and I guess she did, too.

I fucking hate that.

Also, I fucking miss her.

So I'm shook when I pull my phone out of my locker and see a text from her. I swear my chin nearly hits the floor.

ANNIE: Hey…good game tonight.

I blink, and a slow smile spreads across my face.

Thanks.

She replies immediately, which tells me she's been waiting for my response.

Can we talk?

My eyebrows shoot up.

"What are you grinning about?" Morrie asks me. "Some chick send you nudes?"

I frown at him. "No." I look back at my phone.

"Are you coming to Indigo with us?" Russ asks.

"Not sure. You guys go ahead."

"It is a chick," Morrie says smugly.

I turn away to text Annie back. Sure. Want to call me?

ANNIE: Maybe we could get together?

LOGAN: Is this a booty call?

If it is, I'll take it.

ANNIE: No!

LOGAN: Because you do have a nice booty. Brains, beauty and bootie.

There's a pause while she types in another message. I shove my tie into my jacket pocket, not bothering with it, and slam the locker door shut. "Later, guys." I head out. In the corridor, I pause to look at my phone again.

ANNIE: My mom's making me crazy. And I did something stupid.

Okay, that's not good. What the hell is her mom doing?

LOGAN: Your place or mine?

ANNIE: You can come here. Ivan's out.

Well, thank fuck for that.

LOGAN: Be there in about 20

ANNIE: Okay. You remember where?

LOGAN: Oh yeah

I book it to the subway station, checking train routes on my phone. I get off at 50 th Street and then walk a few blocks.

Annie lets me into the building then opens the apartment door.

She's fucking gorgeous.

She's wearing black sweatpants and a long-sleeved pink T-shirt that looks soft and touchable. Fluffy pink socks make me smile. "Cute."

She rolls her eyes but the corners of her mouth lift. "Come in."

I enter the small apartment. The kitchen's on our right and she leads me past it and into a surprisingly spacious living room. There's a big window, now with blinds over it, and a floor lamp glows in the corner. It's very tidy and cozy, with taupe walls and furniture, some cool art, and a soft rug on the pale wood floor.

"What's going on?" I sit on the couch.

She sits there too and shifts to face me. "Remember I told you my mom is on a mission to get her kids all married off?"

"Right. She wants you and Ivan to get married."

She makes a face. "Right. She's still in town. My dad went home after Thanksgiving, but she stayed. She's not giving up."

I immediately grimace. "What the fuck."

"Right?"

I study her. "You don't want that?"

"Gah! I told you, we're just friends! Why don't people believe us?"

"You are pretty close. When I watched your skating videos, I was convinced you two were together. So it's not surprising people think that."

She huffs. "Fine. But people close to us should believe us. We keep telling her it's not going to happen. Anyway, things have kind of changed. I, uh…well, today she took me shopping and somehow we ended up in the baby department and she was looking at cute little girl dresses and practically begging me for a granddaughter."

Annie's daughter would be adorable.

Wait, what?

"I kind of lost my shit." She picks up a textured cushion and runs her fingers over it. "And I told her I'm involved with someone else."

I stare at her, my mind completely vacant. Then I say blankly, "Who?"

She bites her lip, drops her gaze, swallows, and says, "You."

My mouth opens, then closes. "You told your mom about us?"

"No! I didn't tell her it was you! I told her I couldn't tell her who it is."

"Ah." I'm still befuddled. "Um. Okay. But…"

She looks up and meets my eyes.

"We haven't even talked for almost a week."

Her bottom lip pushes out. "I know. I…after that night we ran into you, I realized how upset my family would be if they knew about you and me. And I thought we shouldn't see each other again."

I nod somberly. "Yeah. That's what I figured. I thought the same." I pause. "Why did you ask me here? Because you didn't need to tell me that…if you're trying to make your mom think you're involved with someone."

"Because…" She stops and meets my eyes. "Because I miss you."

Shit. I stare into those Nordic blue eyes. My chest cavity fills with heat.

"I miss talking to you," she says, her voice quivering ever so slightly. "I wanted to tell you about my mom bugging me, like you told me about your dad. You make me feel better about stuff. And I miss hearing about what's going on with you. You played so well in that game that night and now you're on a new line and it looks great, and I want to know how you're feeling about it and what your dad thinks about it, and…" Her voice trails off. "I just miss you."

My blood is hot in my veins. I clear my throat. "I miss you, too."

We gaze at each other as time bends and stretches in the quiet room.

"I know we shouldn't see each other," she adds. "Practically speaking. But…I want to."

I want that, too. I know exactly what she means, because I feel the same. But holy shit, this is a little terrifying. We've been banging and hanging out and getting to know each other and…I can't be catching feelings for her. I don't know how to love. My dad only loves me when I do what he likes. Love has always felt kind of like a tool that he uses to get what he wants.

I look into Annie's clear eyes and the honesty and vulnerability shining there. I feel like I should be asking myself what she wants from me. And then I feel ashamed of that. Because being with me is a huge fucking problem for her, not a benefit. And yet she still wants to be with me.

That thought sucks all the air out of my lungs.

She gnaws briefly on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry. It's okay if you don't want to." She holds up her hands in a placating gesture. "I understand. I wanted to be honest with you, though."

Honest.

I want to believe her—that she missed me and wants to be with me for no other reason than she…likes me? But I've never taken a chance on getting serious with anyone because I've always been convinced that I don't deserve love unless I do what they want.

Yes, Annie Bang is honest. Determined. A bit of an underdog in her family trying to prove herself. But she's never down. She puts her whole self into coaching us and making us better and cheering us on. She doesn't realize how motivating she is, how much she's impacting the team. And me. Especially me.

I reach out and take her hand. "I do want to be with you." I rub my thumb over her knuckles. "But I don't want to become a problem for you. We both know a relationship with a player isn't a good idea. And your parents…your brothers, too, probably…hate me."

"They don't know you. But I'm not suggesting that we actually tell them about us."

A hard knot forms behind my sternum. "So you want a secret relationship."

"Well." Her long eyelashes flutter. "We agreed to keep things on the down low because of the team."

Right. Right.

The knot in my chest grows bigger. Harder.

I remember how hard it was at the retreat to keep my eyes off her. To stay away from her. I wanted her by my side. I wanted to share amused looks at things people said, to exchange glances, to touch her.

I don't want to sneak around.

She squeezes my hand. "Thank you for your concern. But this isn't about my family. We talked about it…remember? When I told you part of growing up is making your own decisions apart from your parents? Well, I need to do that, too."

If I was standing, that would take me out at the knees. Emotion swells behind my sternum and I have to take a deep breath. "Okay."

And I lift her onto my lap, thread my fingers into her hair to tilt her head, and kiss her.

She makes a small noise in her throat, wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back, opening to me. I missed her taste, her sweetness, the slide of her tongue on mine. A groan climbs up my windpipe. "Annie."

"Mmmm."

I kiss her cheek, her jaw. I nuzzle her ear. "You're so sweet." Kissing her has my cock thickening with need for her.

She smiles, eyes closed, head angled to give me access to her neck. I slide my tongue over smooth skin.

"I'm not supposed to be sweet."

"What does that mean?" I suck gently.

"I was always told, don't be too sweet or…or…" Her voice goes breathy. "Or they'll eat you."

My lips curve up. "That sounds like a great idea."

Her eyes pop open wide and I almost laugh. "That's not what I meant!" Then she smiles. A sexy, smutty smile. "But okay."

I stand with her in my arms. Ivan can hold her up over his head on skates. I could do the same. "Where's your bedroom?"

She gestures and I carry her around the corner to a short hall lined with closets. Her door is straight ahead and I take her in and lower her feet to the floor. It's mostly dark so I can't see much, but all I want to see is her glowing face, pale ivory in the dim light. I have an impression of pale colors, lots of soft cushions on the bed, and the faint vanilla scent of her lingering on the air.

I slip my hand between her legs and cup her pussy. She's warm and damp there. "I want to taste you here."

"Ohhhh God…"

I pull her sweater over her head. Beneath she's wearing a white lace bra, two little triangles of stretchy lace sheer enough to see her nipples through and a gold clasp at the front. I flick it open to bare her sweet tits and bend to press an open-mouthed kiss between them while I hook my thumbs into her leggings to drag them down.

When she's out of them and her panties, I nudge her backward onto the bed. She stretches out sideways across it and I pull off my own sweater, kick off my jeans and kneel between her leg. She parts them further for me and I set my hands on her inner thighs and lower my head to kiss her on one hip then the other. "You smell delicious." I breathe in her earthy sweet scent, an aphrodisiac that makes my dick so fucking hard it hurts.

I kiss and lick her thighs, teasing and tasting her, moving closer and closer to her center.

"Lick me," she begs in a smoky voice. "Please."

"Mmm." I like that. I part her soft lips with my thumbs and her hips lift off the bed.

"Oh, God."

I lick over the softest skin then point my tongue and dig into her opening. She moans as I lap at her, savoring her taste, and I kiss her plump flesh, little suckling kisses, so gentle, so patient. I like this, too. I like her taste. I like the way I can make her quiver and moan.

My dick throbs.

"Sweet, Annie. You taste like honey and peaches."

She arches with pleasure.

"And you're so pretty here."

I pull her swollen flesh into my mouth, gently release it, then moved to the other side and do the same. Then I move my mouth up and suckle my way up to her clit. When I finally take it into my mouth, tugging and nibbling it at, my teeth holding it while I lick over it, she explodes against my mouth.

She cries out, body arching, digging her heels into the mattress, pressing up into my mouth, flooding with wetness.

"Jesus," I mutter against her pussy, still giving her little licks and sucks, drawing out every last quiver of delight until she lies limp.

"Oh my God, you're good at that."

I smile against her lower belly. "I love making you come. Making you feel good."

Her hands slide into my hair and she lifts my head. I peer into her lust-hazed eyes. "I love it, too."

"Wanna make you come again. With my cock inside you."

"Yessss. Please…"

My cock's on fire, my balls full and throbbing. It takes seconds to get rid of my boxer briefs, find a condom, and suit up, and then I'm inside her, I'm in fucking heaven, her pussy still twitching with aftershocks, and that makes me lose my mind. My jaw clenched, my hips thrusting, I fuck her with hard, powerful strokes and she takes it, takes it so good, she fucking loves it, encouraging me with whimpered words of praise and delight. I bury my face in the side of her neck as heat explodes from my core in a white-hot bolt of pleasure and I pour myself into her. And not just physically. I feel like I'm pouring my soul into her. My gratitude. My trust.

This feels different. It feels like…more. And yet, not enough. I want more of her. All of her.

Oh hell.