Page 66 of In My Hockey Era
He groans, low and quiet.“You’re actually trying to kill me.”
I grin and slip into Mia’s waiting car before I can change my mind.
26
PUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT
Lucy
The energy in the arena is electric, buzzing through my veins as Mia and I make our way to our seats.The Stampede is on home ice, and the place is packed.Fans in blue and silver jerseys crowd the stands, the roar of the crowd swelling as the team skates out for warm-ups.
Mia, in an oversized Stampede hoodie—becauseof courseshe refused to wear an actual jersey—flops into the seat beside me, crossing her legs dramatically.“So, you’re never going to guess what happened.”
I arch a brow, already knowing from the way she’s smirking.“You texted Chase.”
“I texted Chase,” she confirms, pressing a hand to her chest like she’s making a solemn confession.“And he left me onread.”
I wince.“Oof.”
“Right?”She tosses her long dark hair over her shoulder.“Like, excuse me, I know for a fact you’re not so busy that you can’t send a single text back.Unless, of course, he was with someone else.”
I frown.“Or he just… didn’t know how to respond?”
Mia gives me apleaselook.“Come on, Luce.These guys haveoptions.You really think they’re sitting around, waiting to text us back when they’ve got sidepieces in every city?”She gestures toward the ice, where the guys are stretching and taking shots on goal.“Professional athletes live a whole different lifestyle.Women throw themselves at them.And most of them?Theyaccept.”
I shift in my seat, watching as Bennett skates lazily near the blue line, passing the puck back and forth with a teammate.My stomach twists, but I shake my head.“Bennett’s not like that.”
Mia sighs, looking at me like I’m hopeless.“I’m sure he’snice.And obviously, he’s got it bad for you.But that doesn’t mean he’s a saint.When’s the last time you saw him?”
I hesitate.“Last weekend.”
“And since then?”
“We’ve texted,” I say defensively.“He’s been traveling.”
Mia raises a brow.“Uh-huh.”
I cross my arms.“I don’t expect him to text me 24/7.”
“No, but you do expect him to behonestwith you, right?If there’s someone else?Or multiple someone elses?”She shrugs.“All I’m saying is… be careful.You might think he’s different, but at the end of the day, he’s still aguy—a guy who also happens to be a hotshot pro athlete with an insane schedule and a ton of temptation.”
I press my lips together, trying not to let her words sink in too deep.
Idotrust Bennett.At least, I think I do.
But as the game starts and he takes the ice, I find myself watching differently.Not just the way he moves, fast and powerful, or how seamlessly he works with his teammates.
I watch the way he interacts on the bench.Who he talks to.Who he smiles at.If he looks up into the stands.
And when a penalty sends him to the box, and a woman in a tight Stampede jersey leans over the glass, batting her lashes at him, my stomach clenches a little too tight.
I don’t want to be this person.
Jealous.
Insecure.
Suspicious.
