Page 75 of In My Hockey Era
“Yeah, yeah,” Dad mutters, waving him off.Then he glances at me, eyes steady but unreadable.“You like this guy?”
I hesitate.But only for a second.“Yeah.I do.”
Dad nods, gaze drifting toward the grill.“Then enjoy it.While it lasts.”
My stomach sinks.
I know he doesn’t mean it cruelly—it’s not a jab, just his usual practical, realistic way of looking at things.But still, it lands like a weight in my chest.
Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?
No one really believes this will last.
Not Mia.Not Connor.Not even my owndad.
I push my drink aside, suddenly not thirsty.
“Dinner’s ready,” Connor announces, loading up the first plate.
Dad claps a hand on my shoulder as he passes me a plate, offering an easy smile like he didn’t just make my heart feel heavier than it already was.
I force a smile back, but the sinking feeling stays.
Because what if they’re right?
Later, I’m stretched out on the couch in my dad’s living room, scrolling mindlessly on my phone while the TV plays some old Western in the background.Dad’s dozing in his recliner, and Connor’s outside, probably sneaking another beer while pretending to check on the grill.
I’m exhausted, full from dinner, and honestly, a little relieved to be home.But there’s also thisitchin the back of my mind.
One that looks a lot like a six-foot-three hockey player with a stupid grin and hands that could ruin me.
I shake my head and sigh, logging in to check my email, figuring it’ll be the usual flood of subscription updates and spam.But right at the top of my inbox, Vivian Carter’s name stands out, along with a subject line that immediately makes my stomach flip.
You’re Invited: Stampede Annual Charity Gala
I blink, then open it.
Lucy,
We’d love for you to attend the Stampede’s Annual Charity Gala coming up.It’ll be a formal event with players, staff, and VIPs, benefiting various local charities.Dress code is black-tie.Hope to see you there!
–Viv
I stare at the email, my pulse kicking up a notch.
Agala?As in… fancy dress, open bar, expensive silent auctiongala?
I chew on my lip.It’s not like I haven’t been to events for the team before, but this?This feels… different.
Before I can overthink it, my phone buzzes with a text.
Bennett:Quinn.Got a question for you.
I smirk.Me:That sounds dangerous.
Bennett:I got a gala invite today.
I roll my eyes.
