I started my warm up 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’s game. 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 as he walked into the kitchen with Brandon. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your game last night.”

“Yeah. Whatever, Dad. So where is this woman you so badly want us to meet?”

“I’m right here.” A woman who stood approximately five foot five answered as she entered the kitchen.

My father walked over and hooked his arm around her. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Maggie. Maggie, these are two of my boys, Brandon, CEO of Jackson Software, and Logan, professional hockey player for the New York Rangers.”

She extended her hand to Brandon first and then to me. I lightly shook it.

“It’s nice to finally meet both of you. Your father has told me so much about you.”

Rolling my eyes, I turned and opened the liquor cabinet. It was empty. Before I could ask about it, the front door opened and Owen walked in.

“Now that everyone is here, let’s sit down to dinner,” my father spoke as he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her to the table.

Maggie was an attractive woman. She wore her blonde hair in a short bob-cut style that complemented her green eyes. She looked around the same age as my dad, fifty-eight. Maybe a year or two younger.

“Dad, where’s the beer?” I asked.

“There isn’t any.”

I narrowed my eye and arched my brow at him. “What?”

“I’ve quit drinking,” he spoke.

I chuckled. “Yeah, right. Seriously, where is it?”

“I’m not joking, son. I haven’t mentioned this to you boys yet because I haven’t seen you in a while, but I’ve stopped drinking and I’ve been going to AA meetings. That’s why I couldn’t go to your game last night. I had a meeting.”

I looked over at Brandon and Owen, who had the same expression on their faces that I did.

“In fact, that is where I met Maggie. She’s my sponsor.” He reached over and placed his hand on hers.

“That’s great, Dad,” Brandon spoke.

“So let me get this straight.” I placed my napkin on the table. “You decide after eighteen years to give up the booze and then you date your sponsor? Isn’t there some rule against that?”

“No. There’s no rule against that,” he replied.

“And how long have you been sober, Maggie?”

“Five years.” She smiled.

“Maggie and I have been seeing each other for the past couple of months. She’s great support and we enjoy each other’s company.”

Shaking my head, I got up from the table.

“Logan!” my father shouted. “Sit down and finish the dinner that Maggie so kindly prepared for us.” He pointed at me.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, old man. You haven’t done that in eighteen years and now you think you’re going to start? Fuck you!”

My father got up from his seat. “You will not use that kind of language in my house and especially not in front of Maggie. If you can’t show some respect, then get out!”

“Don’t worry. I am.” I stormed out of the dining room and out the front door. Before too long, Brandon and Owen were by my side.

“Bro, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Owen spoke as he grabbed my arm. “She seems nice and Dad quit drinking. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Whatever, Owen. Go back and be a happy family. Forgive that bastard for the things he’s done over the past eighteen years. Maybe you can forget about it, but I can’t.” I jerked away from him and started walking down the street. Placing my hands in my pockets, I turned around. “Ask yourself why you got into boxing in the first place, bro. You have just as much anger towards him as I do.”

When I reached the corner, I made a right turn and headed to Dewey’s Bar. Sitting on the stool, Lina, the bartender I’d known for a couple of years, placed a beer in front of me.

“You look like you could use this, Logan.”

“Thanks, Lina.”

After my mom died, when I was nine years old, the only way my father could handle her death was to drink himself into oblivion every night. The minute he came home from work, when he did come home, he’d pop open a beer and sit in his chair in front of the TV, ignoring the fact that he even had three sons. His sister, my Aunt Vanessa, ended up caring for me and my brothers after my father started heavily drinking. She made sure we went to school and she put us on the right path to our careers, never letting us stray or go off course. I owed my life to her because she was the one who made sure I had every opportunity available to me when it came to hockey. She and her husband, my Uncle Alan, provided the things my father couldn’t. It pained her to see her brother’s life go to shit, and as many times as she tried to help him, she always failed. He was a shit father who only cared about his alcohol, forgetting the fact that he wasn’t the only one who lost someone he loved.

As I took a swig of my beer, my mind went back to my thirteenth birthday. For some reason, I thought maybe that would be the one night he wouldn’t come home drunk. But he did. My aunt had just set my birthday cake on the table and he was late as usual. When he walked in and saw us all sitting down at the table, he went into a rage, yelling and screaming about how inconsiderate we were not to have waited for him. He picked the cake up from the table and threw it across the kitchen. I remember the anger that consumed me at that moment, and I lunged at him, punching him across the face. He grabbed me and threw me up against the wall, screaming at me and telling me that I was nothing but a punk kid who would never amount to anything. That was the night I ran away and hit the rink, skating the fastest that I ever had around ice. It was that night that I was determined to show my father he was wrong and that I would become something and someone.

“You ready for another?” Lina asked with a smile.

“Yeah.” I handed her my empty beer bottle.

I couldn’t help but stare at her tits as her tight black low-cut shirt embraced them. She was thirty-five, smoking hot, and always flirting with me when I’d come in, which wasn’t too often since I rarely visited my father.

“I watched the game last night,” she spoke as she handed me another beer. “You were great.”

“Thanks. I’m also great at other things.” I winked.

“I bet you are.” She bit down on her bottom lip as she leaned over the bar.

My eyes diverted to her sweet cleavage and then up at her. “Do you want to find out?”

“Yeah. Actually, I do.” She looked at her watch. “Look at that. It’s time for my break.” She smiled. “Hey, Joe. I’m going on break.”

She motioned for me to follow her down a long hallway and into a room that housed a desk and a couple of filing cabinets. After I entered, she shut and locked the door, then lifted her shirt over her head, exposing her black bra that looked too small for her big tits. Grabbing her hands, I pushed her up against the wall and held her arms above her head with one hand. Her teeth nipped at my bottom lip while my hand traveled up her skirt and my fingers pushed her silk panties to the side and plunged deep inside her. She moaned and I let go of her wrists.

“Take off your bra and show me your tits.”

She reached behind her and unhooked it, taking the straps down, and letting it fall to the ground. My lips explored her bare breasts as her hands worked on my pants, taking them down and releasing my throbbing cock.

“Nice dick.” She smiled.

After removing my fingers from her wet pussy, I told her to turn around and face the wall. Pulling a condom from my wallet, I slipped it on and crammed myself inside her. She gasped and let out several low grunts as I pounded into her fast and furiously.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked.

“Yes. Oh yes,” she moaned.

I reached around and grabbed hold of her tits, pinching her nipples as her pussy swelled around me, and her body tightened as a wave of warmth rushed over my cock, causing me to come.

“Ah, yeah. Fuck yeah,” I moaned.

Pulling out of her, I rolled the condom off and pulled up my pants.

“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked.

“I’ll throw it away in the trash up at the bar. I don’t want the boss to know that I fuck in here.” She smiled. “You want another beer?”

“Nah. I’m going to head home. Thanks, Lina. I needed that.”

“No problem, Logan. You sure know how to satisfy a woman.”

I gave her a small smile as I walked out of the office and out of the bar.