Logan
Where are you?
You’ve been ignoring my calls.
Are you okay?
Are you here?
Shit. I hadn’t realized I’d missed so many texts.
The whistle blows, and Serena squeaks.
Son of a bitch, we’re about to miss the damn game.
“So...” Brynlee slides up next to where I stand in the corner of the box, watching Logan attack the ice. “I thought you were splitting your time between our box and your seats, but you haven’t moved.”
I shrug and look at Jasper and Waverly seated in front of the glass. “The Nobles are winning, so they didn’t want to move. You’re married to a coach. You know hockey superstitions better than anyone, Brynnie.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s why I want you to go,” she teases. “My husband is going to be insanely pissed if we don’t win this game.”
I nod and keep my eyes glued to Logan as he circles the back of the net and passes the puck to Rafe before slamming one of our cousins into the boards.
Damn. That had to hurt.
“Sorry, not sorry,” I whisper, unwilling to look away.
What I said earlier about that man in a suit—I was wrong. I see it now. The reason everyone loves hockey players. Because ho-ly hotness, Batman. My panties are soaked. Who knew the physicality of this game would be like two straight hours of foreplay?
Apparently not me.
But I do now.
“What are you girls smiling about?” Mom asks as she stops behind us, a martini in one hand and her cell phone glued to the other.
Brynlee shoulder-bumps me. “Pretty sure Livvy just figured out how hot it can be to watch your husband out there on the ice.”
“Oh, honey,” Mom laments and hands me her martini. “Drink this. You’ve got at least another two hours before you can jump that man. We’ve got the whole third period. Then press?—”
“Mother,” Brynn screeches. “Eww.”
“Brynlee, honey, do you think I don’t want my daughters to have healthy sex lives? It’s the cornerstone of any solid relationship. Your father and I?—”
“Oh my God, no.” I gag. “Stop.”
“For the love of the fucking hockey gods, Mom,” Brynlee grumbles.
“Girls, one day when you’re my age, you’ll be as thankful for a good pregame quickie as I am. Until then, just be glad I convinced your father to let your husbands live. You all like to tease me for my overprotective tendencies. But seriously, your father used to beat men bloody in a giant cage. Did you honestly think he’d just accept that men were looking at his baby girls naked?”
“For fuck’s sake, Mom... what has gotten into you tonight?” I screech, then lower my voice when all the conversation in the box dies, and everyone stares at me. Oops. “We don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what, darling? Talk about sex? Because we most certainly do. Isn’t that right, Brynnie?”
“I mean... you don’t usually tell me about Dad and you.”
The buzzer sounds, alerting us to the end of the second period, and I swallow the rest of the martini and hand Mom back the empty glass. “It’s been fun, ladies. Let’s not do this again.”
I step out of the front of the box and stop behind Waverly and Jasper’s seats. “Do you guys want to go to your normal spots?”
