7. Chapter 7

"Ashlynn?" Logan choked out, incredulity lacing his tone.

Standing in the doorway to my dad"s office was none other than Logan, the man whom I had met at a bar and brought back to my dorm for a night of wild and reckless sex. He was also the man who had left before the sun came up and never said goodbye. I shouldn't be upset by that.

I mean, I didn't even want him to sleep over. But still, when I awoke alone in my bed without any sign of Logan, I felt a twinge of anger and sadness.

Crazy, right?

Now, as I stared at the man who had made me cum last night, I had to calm my growing nerves for a moment before I could speak. How could this man that I had mind-blowing sex with, be one of my dad's players? He never mentioned he played hockey. Hell, he never said he went to Sunnyvale. My head still felt like a jackhammer was running wild through my brain, but this had me reeling from a different type of pain.

"Logan." My acknowledgment was cool, distant, like the frost that clung to the windowpane outside. There was no way I could let my dad know how I knew Logan. He would kill him. Or worse, send me back to my mom and stepdad without any financial support.

"Wait, you"re—" Logan"s mind raced, connecting the dots as he stared blankly at me. "You"re the coach"s daughter?"

"Observant," I murmured, my lips pressing into a thin line.

A flush of embarrassment heated Logan"s cheeks. I was sure he was having flashes of last night"s memories, though they must be fragmented and hazy. Those alluring images taunted me with glimpses of laughter and abandon. But here, under the harsh fluorescent lights, reality had a bitter sting. My night with Logan had been the best night I had experienced in a very long time. I wanted to remember him as this elusive man who was beyond perfect and had given me the best sex of my life. I wanted to keep that memory locked away forever. Now, he was standing right in front of me, and I had no idea what to do.

"Are you going to sit down or just stand there?" Coach Carl scoffed.

I couldn't help but giggle as Logan rushed to sit down in the chair next to me. Keeping his eyes forward, he didn't dare to glance my way. His leg bounced with nervousness, and I had a sick pleasure knowing he was nervous.

"Ashlynn is here because this concerns her as well," Dad interjected, folding his arms across his chest.

"It does?" Logan and I both questioned in unison.

Nodding, Dad folded his hands in front of him. "I have asked our new PR firm to allow Ashlynn to be an intern with the company. She needs some direction, and a little work wouldn't hurt her either."

"Thanks," I muttered.

I hated how my dad was telling Logan about our private conversation. More than anything, I hated how my dad had called me at six this morning to tell me to meet him at nine. He wanted me to get a job, learn to work, and have structure.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

What I needed was Tylenol and about a day"s worth of sleep.

"Ashlynn and I were just finishing up," he stated again, handing me a paper with my new work schedule and information on where to meet the PR company. Apparently, it was on the third floor of the arena. "However, Ashlynn needs to understand that part of being with the team PR firm is helping fix the fuck up's the players make."

Swallowing hard, Logan lowered his eyes to his lap. I could see that he was upset. I wondered what he had done.

"Coach, I'm really sorry about last night," he began, his voice shaking. "I mean, with the fight after the game. I knew better and shouldn't have allowed that guy to get me upset."

So, that was what was bothering Logan last night. He never went into detail about why he was upset and drinking his sorrows away, and neither did I, so we were even on that.

The tension in the room was a living thing, crackling in the charged silence that blanketed the air like fresh snowfall on an ice rink. Dad's gaze was angry and narrowed on Logan. For once, he wasn't giving me that disappointed look.

"Logan," Dad began, his voice a low growl of contained fury, "your little stunt last night has made us the laughingstock of the league. I"ve spent years building this team"s reputation. We just got the media back on our side after Tripp's stunts last season, and Jace is finally making passing grades. The rookies are keeping the puck bunnies away, and we have been gaining national attention. Positive attention. Now after one fight, you have managed to land us on the shit list again," he roared out.

Wow, I had never heard my dad talk like that before. Usually, when he was angry with me, he got very serious and sighed and huffed a lot. He was literally yelling at Logan. Anger grew like a raging wildfire inside of me. I had no idea where this emotion was coming from, but something compelled me to speak up.

"Dad, that's not fair. It was just a fight," I argued.

Both men snapped their heads in my direction, and I quickly realized that I had screwed up.

"Ashlynn, you have a lot to learn about managing a team and what it takes to succeed. This is exactly why I wanted you here. To you, this was just a little fight. Just like your nights out partying. However, in the real world, one mishap can tarnish everything you've created."

I hated how he spoke to me as though I were still a little girl. Sure, I have messed up, but where was he when I needed that advice? I was left alone for most of my adolescent and teenage years. He can't just step in now and parent when it's finally convenient for him.

"Coach, I understand the implications of what I've done. I know there's no excuse for what happened. I let down the team, the fans, you... and myself." He searched the coach"s face for any sign of leniency but found none. His chest tightened, a vice of anxiety clamping down on his rib cage. "That guy was talking shit, and I just lost my cool," Logan finished, looking like a wounded puppy.

I wanted so badly to reach over and grab his hand. Provide some comfort for him, but that would be super inappropriate.

"Excuses don"t win games, Logan," dad shot back. "They certainly don"t clean up messes like these." He waved his hands around in the air. Wincing, I hated how angry he was. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I didn't like watching Logan take the blows.

"Please, just let me make this right." Logan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as if in prayer. "I can do better—I will do better. I"m not just some hothead looking for the next thrill. There"s more to me than that. I can show you."

His pleas made me want to cry. I had never wanted anything the way Logan wanted my dad's forgiveness and approval. It made me want to understand this man on another level.

"Give me another chance," Logan persisted, his voice cracking with desperation. "Let me prove that I"m worth the risk. I"ll take any penalty and accept any conditions. I owe it to the team—to you—and..." His tongue tripped over the next words, acutely aware of Ashlynn"s presence, "and to those who deserve better from me."

He chanced a glance at me, but I couldn't seem to face him. Biting my lip, I began to think about what Logan needed.

"Hey, what if Logan did a good thing for publicity? That's what I'm supposed to do, right? Work with PRto help the team. I'm used to talking to the media and have met my fair share of paparazzi while hanging out with some of my friends in Miami."

My thoughts were jumbled, but I was trying to help out. Even though my dad didn't have a lot of faith in me, this was something I did know about.

"Ashlynn, maybe you can use your skills to help Logan out. Go ahead and meet with the PR company. Sawyer is waiting for you upstairs. She was nice enough to come in on a Saturday to help us out," Dad stated, finally motioning for me to leave.

He had offered a compliment in his own way, and I was going to take it. Offering a slight smile to Logan, I stood and started to walk toward the door with the paper Dad gave me in my trembling hands.

I left my dad's office blindsided by a new job, seeing my one-night stand, and realizing that I would have to see Logan again.

Great, can things get any more complicated?