Page 112 of In My Hockey Era
She stirs again, lifting her head just enough to glance at me through heavy-lidded eyes.“You’re thinking too hard.”
I huff a quiet laugh, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.“Am I?”
She nods, settling her chin against my chest, her fingers tracing absentminded circles over my stomach.
Her touch is so light, so gentle, it wrecks me.
Everything about her wrecks me.
She challenges me in ways no one else does.She sees through my bravado and calls me on my crap.Who knew that would really get my motor running.
“I like this,” she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.“You holding me.”
I swallow hard.
My hand stills against her back, my chest going tight.
“You’re ruining my plan,” I whisper.
“What plan?”
“The one where I pretend I’m not completely, stupidly in love with you.”
Lucy stills against me.
I hadn’t meant to just blurt that.
I feel it the second it registers.The way her breath catches, the way her fingers freeze against my skin.
And my stomach drops.
I wasn’t planning to say it tonight.I wasn’t even planning to say it yet.But now, with her tangled up in me, all soft and sleepy, her heart beating steady against my ribs—it just came out.And I don’t regret it.
Not even a little.
I brace myself, my heart hammering, but then—she shifts.Her hand slides up my chest, and she pushes herself up just enough to meet my eyes.
I hold my breath.
Then she smiles, slow and sleepy and devastating.
“Say it again,” she whispers.
My pulse kicks up, and I reach for her, cupping her face.“I love you, Luce.”
A soft, breathless laugh leaves her lips, like she can’t believe it.Then she leans in, presses her mouth to mine, slow and deep and consuming.
And just like that—I know.
“You love me too,” I taunt her.
“Ugh, you’re so smug.”
I grin.“Doesn’t make it any less true.”
Her lips part.“You’re not supposed to know that.”
“I’m not?”
