Page 47 of In My Hockey Era
Something tightens in my chest.The worst part is, I know he means it.He’s always been infuriatingly sincere.
“I don’t want to be some punchline,” I admit, my voice softer than I mean for it to be.“I don’t want people thinking I’m just here for a PR stunt.That I don’t belong.”
His face darkens.“Youdobelong, Lucy.More than half the people here tonight, I’d bet.”
I swallow.He says it with so much certainty, like it’s a fact and not something I have to prove over and over again.
“Still mad at me?”he asks, tilting his head, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.
I press my lips together, trying to hold on to my irritation, but it’s slipping, fast.
Before I can answer, his phone buzzes on the nightstand.
He glances at the screen, and something in his expression shifts.“One sec—it’s my sister.”
Sister.The one he said was going through a tough divorce?
He picks up, his whole posture softening.“Hey, Nat.What’s up?”
I busy myself by fluffing my pillow, setting my carryon suitcase on the luggage rack, trying not to eavesdrop.But it’s impossiblenotto hear his side of the conversation.Again—one room, people!
His brows knit together.“Wait, slow down.What happened?”A pause.“Okay, first of all, you’renota failure.”
His voice is steady, patient, laced with quiet reassurance.
“No, Nat.You’re not messing everything up.”Another pause.“Because one situation that didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean you’re suddenly doomed for life.You have a whole, beautiful life ahead of you still, I promise.”
There’s a brief silence, and then his expression softens further.“I know it sucks.But you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.You always do.”
I blink.
I’m used to the Bennett who cracks jokes and smirks like the world is his playground.But this?The way his voice dips into something warm and careful, like he knows exactly how to hold his sister’s worry without making it feel small?It’s disarming.
He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head.“No, I don’t think Mom’s gonna disown you.But even if she did, you could crash with me, and I’d make you my hockey groupie.Pay you in team hoodies and terrible coffee.”
I can’t hear Natalie’s response, but whatever she says makes his mouth pull into a soft, affectionate smile.
“I love you too, sis,” he murmurs.“Get some sleep, okay?”
When he hangs up, he exhales, running a hand through his hair.Then he notices me watching.
I raise an eyebrow.“Hockey groupie?”
His lips twitch.“Hey, it was a solid backup plan.”
I shake my head, hesitating before asking, “Is she okay?”
He nods.“Yeah.No.Maybe.She’s just… stressed.She didn’t have divorce on her bingo card, you know?None of us do, I guess.It just sucks.”
I study him.“You’re a good brother.”
Something flickers across his face, a kind of quiet vulnerability I don’t usually see from him.He shrugs like it’s nothing.“She’s my sister.It’s my job.”
I don’t know what to do with the warmth spreading in my chest.The part of me thatwantsto forgive him.That wants to let go of my frustration and maybe, just maybe, admit that Bennett Wilder is—
I shut that thought down before it can go any further.
Instead, I just mutter, “Rollaway bed better not squeak.”
