Page 90 of Meant for Mayhem

“Kozak. Parrish.”

Logan let out a deep sigh. “I got demoted.”

Kozy caught his key card before Logan could. “I’m the one who’s stuck with you now that the Giant’s taken.”

“You’re proving my point.”

“Aren’t you the one who climbed into bed with Mikko and claimed you were sleepwalking?”

Logan frowned. “That happened one time.”

“Three,” I corrected.

Kozy rolled his eyes. “This is going to be a long season.”

Coach didn’t even glance up from the remaining keys.

“Novak. Sullivan. Bennett. Nyberg. Madsen.”

He tossed room keys out one by one until he looked up.

“Laaksonen.”

I stepped forward, shifting Leena a little higher on my hip. Instead of one key card, Coach handed me two.

“A suite for the three of you.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

His eyes drifted to Leena, who was rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Get her upstairs before she mutinies.”

“That’s the plan.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow.”

19

Our hotel room was so high it made Mikko’s penthouse seem low to the ground. I’d adjusted to the view of downtown Denver and the mountains beyond, but nothing prepared me for the full impact of New York City lights gleaming through our hotel window.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the entire far wall, overlooking a city that somehow looked even bigger from up here than it had from the plane. Glass towers reflected the sunset, cars crawled through the streets so far below they looked like little toys, and somewhere in the distance, I caught a sliver of water glinting between buildings.

“Wow.”

The word slipped out before I could come up with anything more eloquent. In all the plans I’d ever made for myself, travel was low on the list. Sure, I wanted to, but it had always seemed like one of those ‘if I won the lottery’ type things. Not a random Friday in November.

“We have a problem,” Mikko said from behind me.

Leena squealed in delight, clearly not feeling the same as her dad.

I turned toward him, taking in the room for the first time. The main door opened into a living room of sorts—a couch, a chair, a small desk with a lamp. A portable crib was already set up too, so that wasn’t the issue.

Mikko stood in a doorway to a second room, and I peeked around him to see what he was so concerned about.

One king-size bed sat in the other room, filling up the space.

“I’m sorry,” Mikko said, looking back over his shoulder toward the couch. “I can⁠—”