Page 32 of In My Hockey Era
She blinks at me.“What?”
“Turn around,” I murmur.“Just trust me.”I nod toward her back, and after a beat, she hesitates—then sighs and does as I ask, scooting forward slightly.
I set my hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension knotted there, and start working my thumbs into the tight muscles at the base of her neck.She stiffens at first, probably not expecting it, but as I knead at the spots that feel the worst, she melts a little.
A soft, breathy noise slips from her lips, barely audible, but it nearly knocks the wind out of me.
She makes in intelligible sound.“Where the hell did you learn to do that?”
I chuckle, pressing a little deeper.“Locker room necessity.Hockey is hell on the back.”
“Remind me to thank your trainer,” she mutters, head tipping forward.
And I do my best to ignore the way my pulse picks up at the way she relaxes beneath my hands, at how good it feels to take care of her, even in this small way.
After a few minutes, Lucy looks at me over her shoulder.“Thanks,” she murmurs.
The moment is more intimate than either of us was expecting.
“Sure thing.”I let my hands fall away.“I better feed you while the food’s still warm.”
I dig through the bag and hand her a burger, taking one for myself as well.
Lucy pulls her legs up onto the couch, cradling the burger in both hands like it’s the only thing tethering her to reality right now.She takes a bite, closing her eyes for a second, then lets out a little groan of appreciation.
“Okay,” she says, mouth still half-full.“I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about you.This is amazing.”
I smirk, grabbing a fry from the bag.“Damn.I should’ve known the way to your heart was through takeout.”
“Food is love, Wilder.”She gestures toward her burger.“And right now, this burger is the best relationship I’ve ever been in.”
I chuckle, watching as some of the exhaustion eases from her features.There are still dark smudges under her eyes, but at least she’s eating.At least she’s here, letting me sit next to her instead of shutting me out.
“So,” I say, stealing a fry.“Want to talk about what happened today, or do you need a full mental cleanse?”
She sighs, chewing thoughtfully.“Mostly a cleanse.It was just… one of those shifts.Too much chaos, too many bad calls, and a little too much blood for my taste.”
I nod, deciding not to press.If she wants to tell me more, she will.Instead, I switch gears.“Okay, so mental reset.What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to deal with on the job?”
That earns a tiny smile.She leans back, eyes sparking with something lighter.“Weirdest?Oh, there are a lot of contenders, but… one time, I responded to a call about a guy who got a beer bottle stuck in his—”
I hold up a hand.“Wait.Stuckinhis—?”
She grins.“Yep.There.”
I groan, covering my face with one hand.“Nope.I’m out.I regret asking.”
“You asked, tough guy,” she teases, popping a fry into her mouth.“And now you have to live with that knowledge.”
I shake my head, laughing, and for a while, we just eat, trading stories, keeping it easy.I don’t need her to lay everything out for me tonight.She looks exhausted enough without me prying.
But she let me in.She let me sit beside her, eat greasy burgers, rub the tension from her shoulders.And somehow, that feels like enough.
“Thanks for this,” she says, setting her burger down on the wrapper and grabbing her milkshake.She curls her legs on the cushion beside her.Her feet are bare and her toenails are painted bright blue.“I’m sure this isn’t at all what you had planned tonight.”She gestures to my outfit—I’m still dressed in the button down and pair of pressed slacks.
“It’s not, but somehow this is almost better.More real.”
“Yeah,” she agrees.“I guess it is.”
