Page 89 of In My Hockey Era
His hands settle on my hips, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie that I’m still wearing, skimming the bare skin of my waist.His eyes darken just a little, and my breath catches.
“Luce,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing.
I swallow.“Yes?”
His lips twitch, but he doesn’t say anything else—just watches me, thumb stroking lazy circles against my hip.
The air shifts, the playful banter replaced by something heavier.
I’m still not used to this.To us.
To the way he looks at me like he’s never wanted anything more.
I glance down at my half-eaten muffin, then back up at him.
“This is dangerous,” I mutter.
His brows lift.“The muffin?”
I roll my eyes.“You.This.”
He hums, considering.“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out exactly how dangerous.”
I narrow my eyes.“Are you trying to trap me with baked goods?”
“Is it working?”
I press my lips together, pretending to weigh my options, even though we both know my answer.
23
ICED OUT
Lucy
I’m still glowing.
It’s embarrassing, really.
I’ve spent all weekend floating in this dreamy, ridiculous haze, replaying my night with Bennett over and over in my head.The gala, the way he looked at me, the way webarelymade it through the front door before things turned chaotic and hot and absolutely perfect.
I woke up tangled in his sheets, his body warm and heavy beside me, his lips on my bare shoulder before the sun was even up for a repeat performance that was slower, less frantic, but every bit as perfect.
When I did finally get up, it was to baked goods and hot coffee.
And now?I can’t stop thinking about him.About how I didn’t want to leave his bed, about how I wanted to freeze time, just stay there in that perfect, golden moment forever.
It’s stupid.
But for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe that maybe,just maybe, this could be real.
That maybe I am a relationship girlie, that maybe Ben and I will be in this for the long haul…
Which is why, when I see the screenshot, it takes a second to process.
I’m curled up on my couch, Max snoring beside me, half-distractedly scrolling my notifications when I see it—buried in my mentions.
@HockeyRomanceQueen:Wait… isn’t this the same Lucy Quinn who’s been hanging around Wilder?Girl… you need to check this out.
