Page 39 of Pucking Fake

We sit just like that for several long moments before he reluctantly pulls back. "I should get you home so you can pack, baby."

"Pack?" My brows furrow. "Uh, what are you talking about?"

"We're playing the Bucks tomorrow. You're flying out with us."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. It's in the job description, angel." He grins at me. "You go where I go."

"That is not in the job description, Logan."

"I added it before I hired you."

"I can organize things from here."

"Maybe. But you don't know much about hockey. You need to be at the games until you figure out how it all works."

"I can attend home games. You know, the ones that don't require hopping on a plane and flying across the country?" I retort.

"Rules are rules," he says, shrugging innocently. "And I make the rules."

"Unmake this one!" I demand.

"No can do."

I gape at him for a long moment, take stock of the stubborn intractability on his face, and decide there's really no other choice. I twist, grabbing a pillow from the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Smothering you," I say cheerfully, trying to cover his face with it. "I probably won't even go to prison for it. Especially if I get a jury who knows anything about you."

He laughs, trying to cage me in as I squirm and dodge, doing my best to push the pillow over his stupidly gorgeous smug face. He wins in the end. Mostly because he has a home gym and a hockey career, and the only cardio I've done lately was riding him the other night.

"Fine," I mutter when I'm too out of breath to keep fighting. "You win."

"Fucking obviously. I always win when it counts, Peyton."

I shoot a withering look in his direction, crawling from his lap. "Don't be so smug, Logan. You're only winning because you're a giant bully, and I'm out of shape. But just so it's clear, I am so mad at you right now."

He grins, flashing those dimples at me. "Oh, I'm aware, angel. Why do you think my dick is so fucking hard?"

I throw my hands up, stomping toward the front door. There is no talking to him. There really isn't. He was put on this earth specifically to terrorize me.

Chapter Nine

Logan

"I'm going to kill you," Alice swears early the next morning, stomping toward me as I'm leaned up against the side of the team bus, waiting to load to head to the airport.

"Shit," Diego mutters from beside me. "Which one of us is she mad at?"

"Not me," Micah says. "I know how to behave."

Everyone looks at Jordan.

"Why the fuck are you all looking at me?" he growls, yanking one of his earbuds from his ear. And then he notices Alice storming toward us and his brows furrow. "Who pissed her off?"

"They all figured it was you," Nash says.

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