Page 8 of Bound

Yes, epic comebacks have happened in hockey—dohappen in this sport where fans should never leave until the final buzzer goes.

But I highly doubt that my guys are going to give up a game they’ve had in hand since early in the first period.

Notmyguys.

I still stay in my seat, focusing on the game until the final seconds ticks down, making small talk with Lexi—and hearing some hilarious stories about their son, Noah and his adventures with their new puppy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Luc says as the guys file off the ice and he packs up his stuff. “But not before?—”

“Noon,” I finish for him, earning a tug of the end of my ponytail.

“Exactly. Noon and?—”

“—not a second earlier,” I finish again.

“Smart ass,” he mock grumbles then fixes me with a look as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m just saying that I’ve learned from the best.”

Lexi grins and takes his arm. “Damn right you did.” A wink at me. “Because I know you meanmeand not him.”

“Hey!” Luc begins, but she’s already drawing him from the room, waving at me, allowing the door to slide closed behind them.

Noon tomorrow.

And not a second before.

I bite back a sigh.

Because what the hell am I going to do for the next twelve-plus hours? Sit silently in my apartment and stare at the walls?

There’s no real set hours when someone works for a sports team—we have late nights interspersed with early mornings, flights and bus rides to and from airports and hotels. Practices and games and community outreach events. I could let it be my entire life, if I wanted.

Like I’ve been known to do in the past.

Which is why I know I earned that gentle admonishment from Luc about noon—and not a second before.

He wants me to have a life that isn’t work, that’s balanced, that’s not just living and breathing the team and my job.

The only thing is…that’s fucking hard.

Luc has a family, kids, a dog, a beautiful, happy wife.

He has things to go home to.

I have…an empty apartment and?—

“Enough,” I whisper, grabbing my purse and slipping from the room.

I haveallthe streaming services. My apartment may be sans kids and family members, but I have plenty of trash TV to watch.

So, my apartment won’t be completely empty.

Just absent of anyone but reality TV personalities yelling through the screen.

Sighing, I make my way down to the elevator. I need to stop by my office, get my coat and maybe my laptop—because while Luc said I couldn’t come in before noon, hedidn’tsay I can’t work between now and then.

Grinning, because I love my job and all the things that come with it, I zip out of the elevator doors and?—

---