Chapter 3

THREE

Logan

Later, I get home to my apartment on the eleventh floor of a newish high rise in the Lincoln Square neighborhood. It's easy to get to the practice facility in Westchester County from here, and also easy to take the subway to the arena on game nights. It's not a super swank building, but it's modern and spacious for New York. I like that it's close to the river with a walking path and lots of green space.

When I walk in my door, I'm attacked by a killer dog. Just kidding, Teemu isn't a killer, he's a goof and he's excited to see me. I've had him for about a year now. He's some kind of mix of terrier and poodle, we think, so not very big, with crackhead hair. He's really smart and cute. I'm not biased; this is objectively true.

I need to take him for his walk but first I head to my office and sit down in front of my laptop. Soon I'm googling Annie Bang. The pictures that come up are way different than the image she presented today, wearing a baggy black Bears track suit, sneakers, a ponytail, and no makeup. There are tons of photos of her in skimpy, glittery costumes with bright lips and false eyelashes. Her blond hair is up in a bun in some pics and long and loose in others. Wow. Stunning.

Fuck. That's irrelevant. This is a problem.

She's a coach.

It's still hard to wrap my head around it, but she's a fucking coach . I can't be leering at her tits and ass. I can't be thinking about putting my hands on her again. Definitely can't be thinking about kissing her and tasting her and?—

She hates me.

And that pisses me off.

I don't know why. Yes, Annie Bang is hot. Like, set things on fire hot. I already knew that. Jesus, we spent basically a whole day and night together in bed, burning up the sheets, burning off athletic energy in sweaty, lusty games.

I close my laptop and turn to Teemu. "Okay, buddy, you've been patient. Let's go. Walk? Wanna go for a walk?"

Teemu knows those words and goes bananas, yipping and spinning while I grab my phone and my keys. I clip his leash onto his harness and take him for a nice long stroll along the river.

I'm skeptical of what Annie can teach us. I know there are a few other teams who've hired figure skaters as skating coaches, but we sure as shit don't need to know how to do triple axels and camel toe spins or whatever. I find myself unreasonably irritated by the prospect of learning how to skate. I know how to skate.

Put her out of your head.

Sure, sure.

"Okay, let's go home!" I say to my dog and we turn around.

In my bedroom, I throw myself down on the bed to nap and Teemu joins me. I love napping. I love sleeping. It's my superpower.

I awake to my phone pinging. I fumble around for it and find a the group chat has blown up with dinner plans. I add my message that I'm in, then rub my eyes and check the time. Shit, I really crashed. It's nearly five .

Another text arrives.

RUSS: Wanna play ping pong until we go?

LOGAN: Okay Meet you down there in ten.

This building has a recreation room, as well as a gym, although I rarely use it since we work out at APF, the practice facility.

I strip off my clothes, scrub my face with cold water, and change into a pair of dark jeans and a fitted button-down shirt that'll be okay for dinner. I check my phone for any other messages—oh hey, there's one from Mindy, who I went out with last week. Just saying hey.

Do I want to respond? I'm not sure. I shove my phone into my pocket.

Russ and I get into a heated game of ping pong, smashing the little plastic ball back and forth across the table. Neither of us are that good, but we have eye and hand coordination and I also have a killer instinct, so I deliberately drive the ball into places that are hard for him to get to. I'm thrusting my arms into the air in triumph when Millsy and his wife Lilly walk in. They also live in the building.

I do a victory dance and Lilly laughs. "You guys," she says. "Not competitive at all."

"I play to win, baby," I say, moving toward her. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hi, Logan." Her eyes sparkle up at me. She's really pretty and super nice and Millsy's a lucky guy.

"Want a turn?" I ask her, handing her my paddle.

"Sure!"

Russ turns his paddle over to Millsy and we watch them battle it out until the others show up—Josh Heller (Hellsy) and his wife Sara, Owen Cooke (Cookie) and his girlfriend Emerie—and we head out for dinner in the new restaurant the girls want to try.

"This place is fancier than I thought," I say as we're shown to a big, curved booth. The restaurant is called Brunswick Grill, so I expected something casual, but crystal chandeliers hang above us, the walls are all paneled in wood, and velvet drapes separate different parts of the restaurant.

"As long as the food is good." Millsy opens his menu.

The girls order wine but my teammates and I stick to water. There's a lot of seafood on the menu, as well as a lot of spicy dishes, and I debate what to have. I don't want anything that's going to slow me down tomorrow. I end up ordering grilled halibut, which comes with Mediterranean beans (protein and fiber) and something called salmoriglio, which I have to quickly google. It's a condiment made with lemon juice, olive oil, garlic, salt, and herbs. Sounds delicious. Hopefully it's not too garlicky or I'll reek on the ice tomorrow when I start sweating. Did I mention that I sweat a lot?

"So whaddya think of this new skating coach?" Millsy says after we've ordered.

"We've never had a skating coach," Russ says.

"And she's a figure skater."

"Right?" I say, ignoring who this coach is. Am I the only one who's figured it out? Not that they know Annie and I banged in Pyeongchang; but they know her brother. "What is a figure skater going to teach us?"

"Figure skaters have to be good skaters," Lilly ventures.

"Well, yeah, but it's different." I shrug.

"You know who her brothers are, right?" Millsy says.

Shit. I'm not the only one who's figured it out.

The guys all look at each other and the silence is dense.

Finally Russ speaks. "The Bang brothers." He nods. "Kingston. Jakob. Tanner. Leif." He pauses. "Jensen."

Millsy slants a glance my way, as do the other guys.

They all know Annie probably hates my guts for what I did.

My face tightens.

"You okay, Loco?" Hellsy asks, concern notching his eyebrows together.

"Oh yeah." I give a dismissive roll of my eyes. "Whatever."

"Why?" Sara looks around. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you later," Hellsy says in a low voice.

"It's not that big a deal," I say, striving for casual. "I got suspended after a late hit on Jensen Bang a few years ago."

"Oh." She blinks and nods. "Ohhhh. And she's his sister."

"Right. But she won't last long," I add confidently.

"Why do you say that?" Russ picks up his glass of water.

"Just a feeling. She looks pretty soft. She won't survive around all of us."

"She has five brothers who play hockey," Russ reminds me.

"Yeah, but this is a job. It won't be easy."

Russ makes a face. "Coach already told me I'll be working with her."

"Me too," Cookie admits.

I sigh. "Me too." Well, I won't be the only one. Especially the only veteran player. But this is a clear sign that things will definitely be different this year.

Ugh. I'm less than enthusiastic about this whole thing.

And it's not just because of who the skating coach is.

I can skate just fine.

Although…I do want to play better. I came to camp in the best shape of my life, with the goal of showing the team I can move up and play more minutes, that I can play faster and smarter.

I'm impatient for our scrimmages before season starts, and I'm impatient for the regular season to get going. I need to position myself to show them I'm good enough.

But I'm not convinced it's going to be because of a cute little blond figure skater.