Chapter Text
Grace and Logan had only been dating for a short time, but she was getting used to following Logan’s routine, especially when it came to sports. He loved hockey; he was one of the Bruins’ star players, but all she really understood about the sport was that the players went out on the ice in skates and fought over a puck. And they got hurt a lot in the process. She was horrified every time Logan took off his shirt and she saw the bruises. Logan tried to reassure her by saying it was just part of the game, but she would never get used to it.
It was just another ordinary Sunday. Although he loved playing, Logan also loved watching hockey. Grace had already realized that, after her, hockey was the air he breathed, so he had invited her to watch a game with him at his apartment so he could explain everything she didn’t understand. Grace accepted, since she could never say no to spending time with her boyfriend, but she had to admit she wasn’t that excited about the game. Grace found it a little boring because she didn’t really understand the NHL rules. It was too confusing for her.
“Could this night get any better? I’ve got beer to spend the night with my girl and watch some hockey.” Logan said, turning on the TV and joining you on the couch.
Grace was comfortable with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, noticing how big the Bruins jersey he’d made you wear looked on your body, but it was comfortable. He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
“I don’t understand any of this; it’s so complicated.” A sigh escaped her lips as she stared at the screen. The first period was about to start, and the players began taking their positions.
“I’ll explain it to you again.” He said close to your ear and planted a kiss on your cheek.
“You’ve already explained it to me several times.” And he had, but there were so many rules, so many names, so many positions that you just couldn’t keep all the information straight. It took you a long time just to understand the conference divisions and the names of all the teams in the Eastern Conference and the Western Conference.
“Exactly, you only learn the NHL by watching.” That’s what everyone always said; you tried to keep your eyes on the TV while stuffing more popcorn into your mouth. “Now come here.”
Logan pulled her closer. Grace could hear his heart beating, and his hand brushed against hers every time he reached into the bucket to grab popcorn. His outstretched arm caught her attention; his muscles and veins were addictive. Grace could never stop looking—they turned her on somehow.
“We could be doing a lot of other things,” Grace suggested, running her index and middle fingers across his chest. She tilted her head, resting her nose on the curve of his neck, and took a deep breath, savoring his scent and his aftershave, then left a kiss there.
“Maybe another day,” he replied without taking his eyes off the TV, and she snorted in defeat. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and Grace gave up trying to pay attention to the game, knowing that was all the attention she’d get until it was over.
The first and third periods flew by, fast-paced and exciting. Grace laughed every time Logan jumped up to celebrate whenever a puck went into the net. He was right—it got easier the more you watched. Even though the beginning had been boring, she was loving doing something he loved with him. He explained everything she didn’t understand, and Grace told him he was a better play-by-play announcer than the ESPN commentators.
The intermission was starting; the two had had a popcorn fight at some point during the game, and Grace was using the break to start cleaning up the popcorn kernels that had landed on the carpet while Logan went to the kitchen to grab more beer and put a pizza in the oven.
Grace was on her knees on the carpet picking up the kernels and barely noticed when Logan came back into the living room and knelt behind her, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. He sat up and pulled her back, her back relaxing against his bare chest. Logan was shirtless; he rarely wore one when he was indoors, and she didn’t complain, since she loved admiring his torso and his strong arms.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled all her hair to the side to get better access to her neck. His beard brushed against her cheek, from her jawline down to her collarbone, and Grace felt his moist lips begin a trail of kisses and nibbles along that area.
“Baby, what are you doing?”
“Showing you how much I love you.” He replied, planting several kisses on her face.
“I thought you wanted to watch the game.” Grace squirmed, feeling his hands move up her stomach and his kisses on her neck grow more intense.
“This is halftime.” Logan said between kisses.
“And isn’t that important?”
“Not right now.” His hand turned her chin just enough so her head turned and he could press his lips against hers. His tongue licked the line between her lips, asking for entry, and Grace opened her mouth a little wider, giving him what he wanted.
Grace moved to kiss him better, her hands gripping his neck, and Logan’s hands moved up and down her back. He lifted her hair, and Grace gasped as his lips began to press against the sensitive skin of her neck with light bites and suctions. The heat of his tongue sent shivers down her whole body, and she took a deep breath, pulling on his hair.
“Logan, you’re going to leave me all marked up!” He slowly released her neck with his teeth after hearing that and bit her earlobe next.
“They’re love bites, baby.” His laughter vibrated in Grace’s ear, and she grabbed his biceps to try to stop him, even though it didn’t work very well.
“But I have to work tomorrow, and your love bites aren’t going to go over too well.”
“Makeup.” He murmured without taking his mouth off her neck.
“I can never hide your marks with makeup.” Grace shrugged as the prickle of his stubble on her neck began to tickle and his hands gripped her waist more firmly.
“You’re going to have to find a way to deal with this.” He turned his head to suck on the other side of her neck. Grace could feel the heat and the sting of the red marks beginning to form, but she couldn’t help but let out a moan.
“Stop now.” Grace advised him. He pulled his head back a few inches to look at her. His hair was tousled and his lips were slightly swollen; Logan looked so good with his chest and arm muscles flexed that the only thing she wanted to do was throw herself on top of him.
“Give me a good reason.”
“I’m not going to let you watch the rest of the game.” Grace laughed, pulling away from him. “And I really want to see who’s going to win.” Grace stood up and returned to her spot on the couch. Logan opened his mouth, skeptical, yet at the same time proud of herself for getting him into the NHL.
“You have good points.” He stood up to join her on the couch, but his arms were quick to pull her onto his lap.
“Of course I have. They’ve got to step it up right from the start if they don’t want to struggle like they did against the other team. The overtime rule is bullshit.” Grace said, recalling the game back home. Grace hadn’t watched it, but Logan hadn’t stopped talking about it with some friends, so it wasn’t hard to pick up on the details.
“I’m seriously thinking that maybe it was a mistake to invite you to watch with me.”
“Why?”
“Because, my God, I think I’ve created a monster.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a kiss on her shoulder.