Page 114 of In My Hockey Era
I scoff.“Oh, really?”
“Oh, really,” he echoes.“Think about it—cocky athlete meets stubborn, bookish girl who claims she doesn’t like him, but secretly does.”
A few people “aww” from the crowd, and I shoot them a betrayed look.
“Enemies to lovers,” Bennett continues, counting off on his fingers.“Public tension, forced proximity, undeniable chemistry, and then,bam!” He snaps his fingers.“They fall for each other and live happily ever after.That’sourstory, Quinn.Face it.”
I cross my arms.“We weren’tenemies.”
He smirks.“Oh?What was that thing you said about me on your podcast?”He taps his chin like he’s thinking.“Oh, right.‘The most annoying athlete in the league.’”
The audience bursts out laughing.
I groan, hiding my face in my hands.“I hate you.”
“You love me,” he corrects, grinning, then turns back to the crowd.“Anyway.The point is—sports romance?Completelyrealistic.In fact…” He pauses, glancing at me with something softer in his expression, something that makes my stomach twist in the best way.
“I’ve read a lot of books,” he says, voice quieter now.“But she’s my favorite plot twist.I didn’t see her coming, but now I can’t imagine the story without her.”
A collectivegaspripples through the crowd.
Someone actuallyscreams.
I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Bennett?Not phasedat all.He just grins at my wide-eyed expression, then leans in and presses a kiss to my lips—right there, in front ofeveryone.
The bookstoreerupts.
I mean,absolute chaos.
People are shrieking,chairs are toppling over,someone yells“I KNEW IT!”
And me?
I’m clinging to his shirt like anidiotbecause I’m pretty sure my knees have justgiven out.
A second later, he pulls back, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
I stare at him, stunned.
“You…” I shake my head, still catching my breath.“Youplannedthat.”
His lips twitch.“Had to give the people what they wanted, Quinn.”
The fansgo insane.
And okay, maybe sports romance isn’tentirelyunrealistic.
Then I realize something important.Love—like hockey—is about risk, trust, and knowing when to take the shot.
42
REWRITING THE PLAYBOOK
Lucy
Bennett swallows his bite of pizza and wipes his mouth with a napkin, his brow furrowing as he glances across the table at me.“Wait—why aren’t you at work right now?I thought you had a shift tonight.”
