Page 308 of Sin Bin

“Didn’t need one. Your concierge was most accommodating.” She wheeled her suitcase inside and closed the door behind her. “Never thought I’d say this, pretty boy, but you look like shit.”

Logan scowled over his shoulder. “Are you here to gloat? Did you come to tap dance on my fucking grave?”

She took offense. “Really, Logan? You think I enjoy seeing you miserable and pathetic?”

“I don’t think. I know you do.” He stalked into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge, pulled out a jug of beetroot juice and took a long swig.

Cynara entered the kitchen and made a disgusted face. “I see you still drink right out of containers like an uncouth pig.”

He flipped her the bird and shoved the beet juice back in the fridge, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at her. “So you just hopped on a plane and flew halfway around the world to be a pain in the ass? Don’t you have a dissertation to write?”

She shrugged. “It’s not going anywhere. Besides, I could use a change of scenery.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean? I hope you’re not planning to stick around.”

“What if I am?” She gestured around her. “It’s not like you don’t have enough room to accommodate me.”

“That’s not the point,” he growled. “I’m not in the mood for houseguests, especially uninvited houseguests.”

“Well, I’m here now so deal with it.” She gave a haughty sniff. “If you get me a ticket, maybe I’ll even go to your game tomorrow for moral support. What are big sisters for?”

“Gee, don’t do me any favors,” Logan said sarcastically. “And newsflash: The game is in Vegas.”

Her jaw dropped and she blinked stupidly. “Are you telling me I could have flown home instead of coming here?”

“Bingo.” He smirked. “Bet you feel like a real dumbass right now.”

She scowled, flapping a hand in the air. “I knew you guys were playing the Golden Kings—”

“Knights. Golden Knights.”

“Whatever! Anyway, I just assumed the first two games were here!”

“Nope.” He sneered mockingly. “See, that’s what happens when you don’t follow hockey. You end up flying into the wrong city like a fucking idiot.”

“Bollocks,” she hissed. “I knew I should have told Mom I was coming.”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan grumbled, dropping heavily onto a stool at the center island.

“I was waiting to see what condition you were in.” She folded her arms, leaning her shapely hip against the edge of the counter. “Seriously. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t fucked or drank yourself to death. I know how you love to anesthetize your pain with cheap pussy and booze.”

He flipped her off.

She laughed. “I’m just saying, Logan. Your coping strategies aren’t the best.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” she retorted. “Anyone can see you’re most definitely not fine. You’re so far from fine—”

He held up a hand. “I get it. I’m a fucking wreck. What’s it to you?”

She shook her head at him. “Pendejo.”

He scowled. “Vete al carajo.”

“You go to hell. Oh, wait, you look like you’ve already set up shop there.”

Logan shot her a murderous glare, which only made her laugh.

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