Page 19 of In My Hockey Era
My stomach lurches.
One second he was cutting through the defense, the next he was crushed into the boards by a guy who has at least fifty pounds on him.
He stirs, slow and stiff, and even from up here I can tell he’s hurting.Trainers rush out as he struggles to his feet.He waves them off like he’s fine, but I don’t buy it.
The game presses on, but I barely watch.
“Wonder if he’ll be back out next period,” I murmur.
Vivian arches a brow at me.“Concerned?”
“No,” I lie.“Just… curious.”
She doesn’t look convinced.After a beat, she pulls a pass from her pocket and hands it to me.“Here.This will get you into the tunnel.”
I frown.“Why?”
“Just figured you might want some autographs,” she says breezily, but there’s something amused in her tone.
I squint at her, but she just smiles.
The game carries on and I navigate through a series of hallways to the inner workings of the arena.The pass on the lanyard around my neck means that the lone security guy only nods at me as I pass.
I keep expecting someone to stop me as I hover near the locker room entrance.Players filter past, heading out for the next period, and an equipment manager passes me carrying a bunch of sticks.I shouldn’t be back here.
Then I spot him.
Bennett stands off to the side, talking to a trainer.Or, more accurately,deflectingthe trainer’s concerns.
“I told you, I’m fine,” he says, voice low but firm.
“Wilder, you took a hell of a hit.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
The trainer doesn’t look convinced, and neither do I.His posture is stiff, and when he shifts his weight, there’s the slightest hitch in his breath.
I step forward before I can second-guess myself.“You’re lying.”
Both of them turn.Bennett’s brows lift when he sees me.“Quinn?”
“You’re hurt,” I say, crossing my arms.
His lips twitch.“Nice to see you too.”
The trainer looks between us, clearly debating whether to let this unfold or tell me to get lost.I make the decision for him.
“Wilder?”the trainer asks, obviously leery of me—like he isn’t sure if I’m a random fan or a puck bunny who’s about to hump Bennett’s leg.Hard pass.
He tips his chin to me.“This is Lucy Quinn.She’s a paramedic.Lucy, this is Rodrigo, one of Stampede’s newest trainers.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rodrigo says, still suspicious.
“You too.”I give him a curt nod, and then turn my attention back to Bennett.“Where does it hurt?”I ask, ignoring the way his mouth curves like he’s enjoying this too much.
“I’m fine.”
“Wilder.”My voice is flat, unamused.
