Logan: An Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Boyfriend Sports Romance (Bad Boys of Hockey Book 1)

“Last game of the regular season,” Marcus says. We’re in the locker room getting ready for the game. “We win this and we get to the playoffs. It doesn’t get crazier than this.”

“Right,” I say absently as I dig through my bag, looking for my phone.

Marcus looks at me as he wraps his stick with tape. “Are you even paying attention? Where’s your head been?”

“It’s here,” I mumble. But it’s not. I’m thinking about Riley. I’ve been away all week and I haven’t seen her since we had that kiss the night I left. I’m finally back in Seattle and I can’t stop thinking about all the things I want to do to her when I see her again.

As I fish out my phone, I notice there are no messages from Riley. It’s not a surprise. She’s been quiet all week, ever since we kissed. I still don’t even know if she’s out in the crowd watching the game tonight. Either way, being back in Seattle and so close to her is driving me crazy. I know I should be focused on the game tonight, but I can’t help being more excited to see Riley. I need her like I need my next breath.

I’m about to put my phone away when I notice a notification from my hockey app.

“Crap.”

“What is it?” Marcus looks up.

“Cooper scored three goals in today’s game. He’s leading me by a single point!”

Marcus pats me on the shoulder. “You know what to do.”

The team cheers as we walk out onto the ice for our warmup. As I skate around, I casually look up at the family and friends area. There she is. Even in the giant arena, I feel Riley’s presence like a glowing orange light. Just knowing she’s there empowers me. As I skate, I feel like I’m gliding on air.

The game starts and it’s an even match. We have trouble getting around their defense while they have trouble getting the puck to the net. This goes on for all three periods until all the guys are tired and frustrated and we’re forced into overtime.

Coach pulls out a small whiteboard and pulls everyone in for a huddle. Sweating like crazy, I lean in. Only five minutes left to make it into the playoffs. Only five minutes and the game will be over, and I can be with Riley again. We can finish what we started. My eyes drift up to the crowd. I can see her blond head in the distance.

“Can you do that, boys?” Coach asks.

“Yeah!”

“Logan?”

I look up at him, realizing that I’m part of his overtime plan. “Yeah.”

“Come on, let’s do it!”

I hop over the boards and join Edgar and Marcus on the ice. As I skate around the rink, I look up at Riley again. Her hand is on her necklace.

Positioning myself at center ice, I ready my stick for the play. This is it. I need one more point to be on the same level as Cooper. I need one more point to help the Blades make it to the playoffs.

The referee drops the puck, which I immediately take control of and pass to Edgar. The two of us skate around the opposing players with ease. Edgar passes it back to me as I enter their zone. An opposing player reaches around my legs for the puck but I hop over his stick and pass the puck up to Marcus, who passes it to Edgar, who passes it back to me with lightning speed. In that same instant, I look up and see an empty space between the goalie’s legs. The goalie is still looking at Edgar. Without hesitation, I push the puck through the open slot, burying it in the back of the net. The goal light goes off and the arena erupts into cheers. Throwing my stick and gloves onto the ice, I throw my hands up and jump into Marcus’ arms.

“We did it! We did it!”

“Playoffs here we come!”

The whole team is on the ice now and the adrenaline is running thick. Although all my guys are here with me, there’s only one person I want to hug—only one person I want to kiss. I look up into the stands at Riley. She’s standing and clapping. I point at her. She points back.

“We’re going to celebrate so hard tonight,” Marcus says.

With my eyes on the glowing light that is Riley, I nod. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

***

Later that night, the team is at the bar. Everyone is cheering and celebrating, singing the celebration song. Everybody is in a good mood and the drinks are flowing. It’s a rare moment of relaxation.

Looking down, I pull out my phone.

“Can you believe Edgar’s pass?” Saito says, interrupting me. “That was sick.”

“We need more of that for the playoffs,” I say, shoving my phone back in my pocket.

Someone comes up behind me and pats me on the back with a strong hand.

“Guess who’s probably winning the Corazon?” Marcus slams his mug of beer against mine, causing some to spill over.

“Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch. That overtime goal gave me the exact same number of points that Coop has. At this point, it’s all up to the journalists to determine the winner.”

“Come on, at this point, it’s practically guaranteed! What’s more dramatic than winning a playoff position in overtime on the very last game of the regular season?”

He’s right. Endorphins run through me. “God, I feel good. To the Blades!” I hold up a drink. Everyone follows my lead.

“To the Blades!”

We drink our beer. After a few more rounds of the celebration song, I finally find a quiet moment to pull out my phone to text Riley.

LOGAN: Are you around?

She reads the text but she doesn’t respond right away. I stare at my phone way more than I mean to. Finally, she texts back.

RILEY: I’m at my room back on campus.

LOGAN: You should celebrate with us.

…typing…

RILEY: I’m just doing some last-minute work.

My heart sinks. It’s completely like her to study late into the night. Still, I’m celebrating and it’s been five days since I’ve seen her. All I want are her lips against mine.

LOGAN: Studying can wait until tomorrow. Tonight we celebrate.

There’s silence on her end. I’m wondering if I’m being too selfish. Maybe her silence all week was a sign.

But I felt how much she wanted me in the way she kissed me. I start typing again.

LOGAN: I want to see your eyes. And your body.

…typing…

RILEY: You’re drunk.

LOGAN: Not yet. I can be if you want. You can take advantage of me.

RILEY: You wish.

I smirk.

LOGAN: And what if I do?

RILEY: Are you being serious right now?

LOGAN: Show up and find out.

A few minutes go by as I stare at the guys singing the celebration song again. When they get to the third verse, my phone lights up.

RILEY: Let me finish this cover letter and I’ll see.

Smiling to myself, I slip my phone in my pocket. I want to keep sending her flirty texts but I know the faster she does her work, the faster she’ll get out to the bar and be here with me.

The guys have another round of drinks. The singing turns into retellings of all our best plays of the game. When they’re close to finishing their beers, I start getting nervous. I look at my phone. It’s almost midnight.

Maybe Riley isn’t coming after all.

Damn. Maybe she regrets that kiss the other day. I know I sure as hell don’t.

“Hey, Logan…” A strange pink-haired woman in a low-cut red dress slips her hand across my leg. Her breath smells like garlic and whiskey. “I watched the game. You’re such a stud out there.”

I give her a tight smile. “Thanks.”

“My name’s Amanda.”

Another hockey groupie.

“And yes, they’re real,” she says, bending over and flashing her cleavage at me. “If you want to touch them.”

“No thanks,” I say, looking back at the door.

The woman manages to wedge herself in front of me, forcing me to look at her. She puts her arms around my neck.

“I’ll go down on you.” Her pungent breath forces me to turn my head.

“Sorry, I have better things to do.” I pull the woman’s arms off my neck and pull away from her. I disappear into the crowd knowing that my six-foot-two stature won’t make it easy. Hiding behind the other guys on the team, I check my phone again. It’s been forty minutes since Riley’s last text.

LOGAN: Are you coming?

I wonder if my text sounds too desperate but I send it anyway. Just as the text sends, the door to the bar opens and Riley steps in, looking like a light in a dark room. She’s wearing form-fitting jeans and a pale pink silky spaghetti-strap blouse. She spots me across the room and smiles, filling my heart with warmth. Without hesitation, she walks straight over to me.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up,” I say when she finally gets close.

“I heard a team won an important game or something.” She smirks.

“Just a little bit important.”

She leans in, bringing in the scent of green apple shampoo. My summer goddess.

“I wouldn’t leave my boyfriend to celebrate alone, now would I?” She looks up with her gray sea-glass eyes.

“Boyfriend. I like that word.” I push her wavy hair behind her ear. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Her smile quickly disappears.

“We need to talk about something,” she says.

“What is it?” I touch her waist.

She leans in again, lowering her voice. “The contract.”

“Oh.” I reclaim my hand. Right. The contract. “With how close we’ve been recently, it’s easy to forget.”

“That’s what I want to talk about…”

I shake my head. “No.”

“No?”

“No talking tonight. Just celebrating…and dancing.” I grab her hand and pull her onto the dance floor. Pulling her close, I secure her hands on my chest as I put mine around her waist.

Her gray eyes look longingly up into mine.

“This is all I’ve been wanting all week,” I say.

She smiles. “I like seeing you in a good mood.”

“You put me in a good mood.”

She looks down and I can tell she’s blushing. As she looks back up with a smirk, her hands crawl up my chest and around the back of my neck.

I lean my forehead against hers as we dance. “I really like you, Riley Jamieson.”

She smiles.

“There’s something I really want to do right now,” I say in a low, rolling voice.

She looks me in the eyes. “Do it.”

That’s all the invitation I need. I lean in and press my lips against hers. She kisses me back, holding me close so I won’t pull away. The world around us fades away. Adrenaline and endorphins run through my veins and I know for certain that this is more thrilling than a last-minute overtime goal. She puts her hands in my hair as she deepens the kiss. I hold her tight, never letting go.