Page 37 of In My Hockey Era
“Appreciate it,” Chase cuts in, grinning.“Always nice to meet a real fan.”
Oh, for the love...
Chase leans against the counter like he’s got all the time in the world, clearly eating up the attention.“So, Quinn, you a lifelong Stampede fan or just here for Wilder’s pretty face?”
Lucy scoffs, and I swear I see the faintest smirk.“Please.I was a Stampede fan way before Wilder got drafted.”She glances at me when she says it, like she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Chase grins, like he’s found his new favorite person.“Respect.”
“That powerplay last year—overtime, short-handed, against Boston, absolute snipe.I screamed so loud I nearly lost my voice.”
Chase whistles low, shaking his head.“Damn.A woman of fine taste.”
I stand up straighter, fists clenching at my sides.“Alright, Chase.You got your ego boost.Now get lost.”
Lucy looks over at me, surprised by my tone.Chase, on the other hand, just smirks.He takes a deliberately slow bite of his protein bar and leans back against the counter.
“Relax, Wilder,” he drawls.“We were just bonding over my superior hockey skills.”
I glare at him.He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Lucy laughs, the sound warm and unbothered, and my frustration spikes.Shelikesgetting under my skin.I swear she does.
“Alright, alright,” Chase finally says, holding up his hands.“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”
Lucy snorts.“Not lovebirds.”
Chase just winks at her before disappearing down the hall, and I exhale sharply, raking a hand through my hair.
“Not lovebirds,” I mimic under my breath.
Lucy grins up at me.“Aww.Were you jealous?”
I pluck a bottle of wine from the wine fridge and grab two glasses.“Are you a wine drinker, Quinn?”My tone could use a little more finesse.
But Lucy doesn’t call me on it.“Sure, I’d have a glass.”
She’s still smiling as she takes a seat on the couch.After wrestling the cork from the bottle, I settle in next to her, and hand her a glass of cabernet.She tucks her legs beneath her, looking so damn comfortable in my space that it messes with my head.
“You really love the game,” I say, watching her.
She nods, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip.“I grew up on it.My dad used to take me to games all the time.It was our thing.”
She takes a sip from her glass and I watch her throat as she swallows.
She’s so damn cute.So feisty and tough and yet utterly feminine at the same time.It turns out—it’s a dangerous combination for my libido.
“So,” I say, taking a drink of my wine before setting the glass down on the coffee table.“Tell me something interesting about you.”
She tilts her head, giving me a skeptical look.“Interesting how?”
I lean back against the couch, letting my arm drape along the top, fingers tapping against the cushion behind her.“Something I wouldn’t guess just by looking at you.Come on, Quinn.Give me something good.”
She exhales, thinking for a second.“Alright.This is kind of embarrassing, but—” She hesitates, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
I grin.“Oh, now you have to tell me.”
She shoots me a look but relents.“I have this… completely irrational fear of moths.”
