Page 58 of In My Hockey Era
23
RIDING THE HIGH
Bennett
I’m in trouble.
Serious, deep, no-getting-out-of-it trouble.
Because last night?Last night was everything.
It wasn’t just the way Lucy moaned my name like a prayer while I worshipped every inch of her skin.Wasn’t just the way she trembled, her body wrapped around mine, nails digging into my shoulders like she didn’t want to let go.
It was what happened after.
When we should have rolled to our respective sides of the bed.When I should have thrown an arm behind my head, stared at the ceiling, and reminded myself that this was a fun, temporary thing.
Instead, I pulled her closer.Held her against me like I didn’t know how to sleep without her there.
And the real kicker?She let me.
Didn’t even hesitate before tucking herself into my chest, making these soft, content little sounds that damn near killed me.
Now, we’re sitting in a corner booth at a downtown breakfast spot, and I’m pretending like my whole world hasn’t shifted overnight.
Lucy, on the other hand, is completely unbothered.Looking fresh-faced and unfairly gorgeous in an oversized sweater, scrolling through her phone like she didn’t spend half the night tangled up with me, gasping my name.
I take a sip of coffee, willing myself to stop staring at her mouth.Bad idea.Because the second the bitter liquid hits my tongue, I remember her lips wrapped around—
Nope.Not going there.Not when I’m sitting across from her in a public place, trying to act like a normal human man and not a guy who spent the night committing every inch of her body to memory.
I clear my throat, reaching for the menu like I actually need to read it.“So, how does it feel to have survived your first All-Star Weekend?”
She smirks, still scrolling.“Not bad.I even managed to make it through without falling in love with you, so that’s a win.”
I snort, but it’s too late—her words hit their mark, and that trouble I mentioned?It sinks in deeper.Because damn if that doesn’t sound like the kind of thing I wish she wouldn’t joke about.
“Yeah, well,” I say, flipping the menu open to distract myself.“Give it time, Quinn.We’ve still got the flight home.”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue.
Before I can push my luck further, her phone buzzes, and she makes a face.“Ugh.PR wants us at the media debrief in twenty minutes.”
I groan dramatically.“You’d think after all the free publicity we gave them this weekend, they’d let us eat in peace.”
She arches a brow.“You mean the publicityyougave them?I was just trying to do my job.”
I shoot her a look.“Right.That’s why there are approximately five thousand tweets shipping us as the next great sports romance.You’re just an innocent bystander.”
She glares.I grin.
“Not my fault you look so damn good in my jersey,” I add, because I can’t help myself.
Lucy sighs, shaking her head.“I walked right into that one.”
“You did.”I grin wider.“And you lookedphenomenaldoing it.”
Her cheeks turn pink, and I feel irrationally victorious.
