Mason Wolfe (Wolfe Brothers #3) - Sandi Lynn Page 0,61

left all pissed off and called me an asshole.”

“Lightning Logan strikes again. Anyway, you’re going to dinner at Dad’s tonight, right?”

“Shit. Is that tonight?”

“Yep. Seven o’clock.”

“Why is he having us over for dinner anyway?”

“Apparently, he met someone, and he wants to introduce us to her.”

“Fuck. You have got to be kidding.”

“Nope, bro. Just be there and try to be nice.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

The feeling in the pit of my stomach wasn’t a good one. Whoever this woman was, I hoped she knew what she was getting herself into. Anger ripped through me and the only way I knew how to deal with it was taking it out on the ice.

Chapter 2

Logan

I started my warmup with some diagonal dribbles, increasing my speed until I was at full force around the ice before moving the puck from side to side. I started practice on my own before the rest of the team arrived.

“Hey,” Tommy shouted from the other side of the wall. “Are you ready for me?”

Looking up at him with a smile, I spoke, “Bring it on, bitch.”

He furiously skated out on the ice, heading towards me with his stick in position, ready to steal the puck out from under me. Moving my stick from side to side, protecting the puck in every way possible, I shot it across the ice as Tommy and I raced for it.

“Dude, you’re on fire today. What’s up?” he asked as his stick stole the puck.

“Going to my dad’s for dinner. I guess he met someone.”

“Is that a good thing?” We battled for the puck.

“I’m not sure yet.” Our sticks tangled and I stole the puck.

“It’s been eighteen years, dude. It’s about time your old man went out and met someone.”

“Eighteen drunken years. I wonder if she knows he’s an alcoholic.”

“Guess you’ll find out tonight.”

Coach Gene and the rest of the team skated out on the ice as he told us to line up for conditioning.

“Okay, listen up, boys. Tomorrow night, we play against the Washington Capitals on our turf. I don’t want any mishaps with them like last season. I know some of you have problems with the players, but for the sake of the game, keep it clean. They won their first game of the season like us. Let’s not let them win their second game. When you’re done conditioning, I want to go over some new plays for tomorrow night. Now let’s get moving.”

About thirty minutes into practice, the coach called me off the ice.

“What’s up, coach?”

“I’m putting you on warning right now for tomorrow’s game. That little stunt you pulled last season with Gavin Machard cost us the win of the game, not to mention the fact that he was out all season rehabilitating the knee you broke.”

“He came at me first.” I pointed my finger at him.

“Doesn’t matter. You broke the kid’s knee and cost him the season and us the game. Stay away from him. Do you understand me? You’re the best player on this team. Shit, you’re pretty much the best player in the whole damn league. Don’t fuck it up, because I will pull you from the game.”

“No you won’t. You need me and you know it. Without me on this team, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, Logan. Now get back out there and finish practice.”

“I don’t need practice, coach.” I winked as I skated back onto the ice.

Upon exiting my building, Ollie, my brother Brandon’s driver, opened the door.

“Good evening, Logan.” He politely smiled.

“Good evening, Ollie.” I smiled back as I climbed in next to my brother. “Where’s Owen?” I asked, as I didn’t see him.

“He’s going to meet us there. He had something to do.”

“I swear to God, if he bails, I’m kicking his ass.”

Brandon chuckled. “He’s not bailing and I’m sure he would kick your ass, little brother.”

Pulling up to my childhood home, I sighed. “Are Aunt Vanessa and Uncle Alan coming?”

“I don’t think Dad invited them. I believe it’s just us.”

Climbing out of the limo, my stomach twisted in a knot at the fact that I had to face my father who couldn’t bring himself to my first game last night. When we walked into the house, he greeted us at the door, shaking Brandon’s hand first. I walked away and went into the kitchen to grab a beer before he had the chance to say anything to me. Opening the refrigerator, I noticed there wasn’t any.

“Good to see you, Logan,” my father spoke