Logan Romano took the NHL like a hurricane- dark and brooding.
With his natural talent, brute force and sheer determination, he goes completely unchallenged both on and off the ice.
He's notorious. Both for his success and his stormy personality...
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"Any big plans for tonight?" Greyson asks the group from the backseat of Carter's Volvo.
I know 80% of Volvo's are owned by soccer moms but Carter tries his best to break the mould. By being a soccer dad. Out of the season, he's driving his 4 year old daughter to-and-from her games and being the ultimate dilf.
Or that's how he likes to describe himself.
"I have a wild evening planned out." Carter whistles as he shifts gear. "Ciara's working 'til 8 which means I'm on on clean up duty, cooking diner and doing bath time."
Jonas gawks at him. "You're out of control, Vaughn! You need to calm down before the cops are called."
"Surely after the kids are in bed you and Ciara can relax though, right? Have a date night?"
"That's a cute idea." Carter chuckles at Grey. "But if you think my wife will be up for any kind of romancing after a 12 hour shift, you're fucking delusional."
"How you guys have two kids is beyond me. I mean, when do you have time for sex if she's exhausted and you're at away games half the time?"
Trust Hastings to ask the most intrusive questions.
"Believe me, baby girl, I find a way." Carter smirks, pulling off from the red light quicker than the car beside us.
I chuckle slightly at his words and adjust the volume on the stereo. Whoever let Greyson pick the music is a Goddamn idiot and I will not be subjected to that kind of torture.
"What about you, Lo?" Jonas asks, tapping his hands on the back of my headrest. "You up for coming out tonight?"
"We're going to try a new bowling alley on 6th. Apparently, they serve tequila inside of the fucking bowling balls!"
"As tempting as that sounds," I roll my eyes sarcastically. "I'd rather stay in tonight. Maybe watch a movie or something."
The car falls silent at my words.
And I can understand why. Fuck, I mean, just two months ago I would have been the one pioneering / trip to the bowling alley. I was the fucking CEO of bad ideas. I was the guy that would stay out drinking on the streets until 4 in the morning and just decide to carry on drinking rather than face the hangover.
And now all of a sudden I'm turning down a bowling ball of tequila? Who would have fucking thought.
"Are you sick?" Jonas asks with genuine confusion.
Carter shoots me a glance from the corner of his eye. "You're not dying are you?"
"Maybe he's having a stroke!" Jo suggests, gasping dramatically. "You were pretty slow at practise today. A stroke would explain that."
"It could even be a brain aneurism."
"Or worse." Greyson shudders. "He could be ditching us for a night in with his girl."
