Logan (Denver Royalty #1) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Denver Royalty Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“Fuck,” Coach Robinson curses as the rest of the players get to their feet and start screaming out. The crowd burst into outrage and I find my eyes flying back to the ice to see what I’ve missed.

Crap. Logan is pinned up against the boards by a man who must be at least one hundred feet tall and weighs a ton. The Thunder players on the ice instantly scramble to get to him.

“Come on, Logan,” Tony curses from beside me as Logan pushes the guy to get him off him. The guy stumbles back and drops Logan back to his feet. He grabs Logan before he has a chance to defend himself and slams him back to the boards and brings his knee up and nails Logan’s inner thigh, right where his torn muscle was nearly finished healing.

My boys rush in and rip the guy off him which causes Logan to drop to the ice in pain. Jax swoops in and grabs him off the ice while the ref comes in and starts saying a whole lot of shit I don’t understand but at least the big guy gets sent off the ice. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure they call it being in the sin-bin.

Logan comes over to the side with Jax right by his side and pretty much, the rest of the team. His eyes meet mine and he gives me one of those panty-dropping winks, letting me know he’s ok but I can tell by the look on his face that he is in a world of pain.

“What the fuck was that?” Coach Robinson demands, stealing his attention.

“The fuckers had it out for me since the start of the game,” Logan says.

“I know,” Coach scowls. “Right, get off and let Elle check you out.”

“I’m fine,” Logan says. “I can keep going.”

Bullshit.

“I don’t give a shit. You’re out until Elle can assess the damage. I need to know if that bastard has just ruined the rest of your season.”

Logan reluctantly steps off the ice and it’s clear he’s a million kinds of pissed off right now. He rips off his gloves and helmet and dumps them on the bench before following me out of the box and down the hallway. I don’t miss the limp in his step but I keep my mouth shut until I can get a good look at it.

We step into my office and Logan keeps the door open, probably so he can still listen to the game. He sits at my desk and instantly starts un-lacing his skates. He kicks them off and makes quick work of the rest of his gear before making his way to the massage table.

“You ok?” I ask as he leans against the table and turns to face me.

Logan reaches for me and pulls me into his arms. He rests his head on mine and lets out a breath. “Yeah,” he says with disappointed heavy in his voice.

I know he’s not but I let it go, he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it just yet. “Come on,” I say as I push him back to the table. “Let’s see if you can get back on the ice.”

He does as he’s told and I get to work. I oil up my hands and press them down into his muscle. He instantly cringes but that could either be bruising from getting hit or from his previous injury. “What’s the pain like?” I question.

“It hurts but not as bad as when I first did it,” he explains.

I nod as I continue to work. “So, there’s a very excited moron in a wheelchair sitting up in the stands,” I mention as I rub deeper into his leg.

“Yeah, I saw that,” he says, playing dumb.

“Logan,” I groan. “You kidnapped my brother.”

“Yeah,” he laughs.

“Thank you,” I say. “It means the world to him to be here.”

Logan’s arm snakes out and grabs me around the waist. He pulls me to him and sits up to meet me. He presses his lips to mine. “Anytime, babe.”

I kiss him back before pushing him back to the table. I look down at his leg and notice a big red mark appearing from the blow, only the loser missed the mark and hit him about an inch too low.

I rub into the muscle a little more and deem Logan safe from harm, though, his muscle is definitely tense after skating so hard during the game. I lightly press into the red mark on his thigh. “It’s just bruising here. You’ll be fine but you should take it easy. You’re putting too much strain on the muscle.”

“I can skate?” he questions.

"Wait until the next period and spend the break stretching but yes, if you do that and back off a tiny bit, you should be fine unless that dick-wad decides to take another shot at you."


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