Page 46 of In My Hockey Era
Tomorrow.I grit my teeth, weighing my options.I could make a big deal out of this, demand a manager, but I already know the answer won’t change.The hotel is full.We’re stuck.
Bennett clears his throat.“Look, I’ll take the floor.Or—” He snaps his fingers like he’s had a brilliant idea.“The bathtub.I’ll sleep in the tub.”
Despite my irritation, I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.“You’renotsleeping in the bathtub.”
“Why not?”He shrugs.“I’ve slept in worse places.It’s probably pretty spacious.”
I sigh, dragging a hand down my face.Megan looks between us, amused but wisely staying silent.
“Fine,” I mutter.“Let’s just go.”
She hands us the key cards, and Bennett takes our bags before I can protest, trailing me toward the elevators.The ride up is quiet, thick with unresolved tension.
When we reach the room, I push inside first, flipping on the lights—and there it is.
One bed.
A big, plush, king-sized bed—with crisp white sheets—that suddenly feels like the most insurmountable obstacle in the world.
Bennett whistles low.“Well, that’s a whole lot of bed.”
I close my eyes.Do not commit murder.Do not commit murder.
Bennett must sense how close I am to combusting because he immediately sets the bags down and pulls out his phone.“I’ll call down for a rollaway bed,” he announces.
I watch as he dials the front desk, stepping toward the window as he makes the request.His voice is low, polite, patient—too patient, considering I knowheisn’t the one upset right now.
He hangs up a moment later.“They’ll bring one up soon.I also asked for extra pillows.”
I nod, unclenching my fists.
He studies me for a beat.“Lucy…”
I shake my head.“It’s fine.I just—I didn’t love feeling like a joke tonight.”
He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.“I get that.And I’m sorry.”
I look at him then—really look at him.The tension in his shoulders, the way his brows pull together like he actuallymeansit.And for the first time tonight, my frustration wobbles, just a little.
“I’ll sleep on the rollaway,” he adds, voice gentle.“And if that doesn’t work, I’ll find a different hotel tomorrow.”
I huff out a reluctant sound.“We’ll see.”
There’s a knock at the door and a bellhop is here to deliver the rollaway bed.
Bennett drags it into place beside the king, adjusting the extra pillows he ordered like he’s setting up camp.He steps back, hands on his hips, surveying his work.“Not bad, right?Practically a five-star setup.”
I arch a brow.“You’re really selling the luxury of a glorified cot.”
“Hey, I’m a man of simple needs.”He pats the thin mattress, then looks back at me, expression turning serious.“But, uh, before we officially settle in for the night… I just want to say I really am sorry.”
I cross my arms.“For what, specifically?”
“For everything.”He gives me a sheepish smile.“For what that reporter said earlier.For not realizing how much it bothered you.For brushing it off instead of actually listening.And especially for saying youchosethis, like that meant you weren’t allowed to be upset.”He exhales.“That was a dick move.”
I shift my weight, my resolve flickering.
“I hate that you felt like a joke tonight,” he continues, voice quieter now.“You’re the last person who deserves that.”
