Page 19 of In My Hockey Era (Must Love Hockey #1)
ONE BED, TWO PROBLEMS
Bennett
I hear the bathroom door open, and I look up from my phone, fully prepared to keep my head down and stay in my lane. But then Lucy steps out, and—yeah. Any shot I had at playing it cool vanishes immediately.
She’s scrubbed off her makeup, leaving her face soft and fresh, and her hair is piled on top of her head in some messy knot that looks so effortlessly perfect it has to be witchcraft. But it’s not just that. It’s the pajamas.
Pink and soft-looking, with little strawberries on the shorts and an oversized top that’s slipping off her shoulder just enough to make me want to self-destruct.
She’s barefoot, her toenails painted a dark purple, and I don’t know why that detail wrecks me, but it does.
It’s the kind of look that should be innocent, something casual and thoughtless. But on her? It’s a fucking problem.
I grip my phone like a lifeline and clear my throat. “Nice pajamas.”
She hesitates for half a second before rolling her eyes and walking past the bed toward the nightstand. “Shut up, Wilder.”
God help me, even that’s cute.
Something about the way this girl puts me in my place just does it for me.
She’s still a little annoyed with me—I can tell by the way she doesn’t look directly at me, the way she keeps her movements a little too deliberate. I deserve it. I should’ve handled tonight better. Should’ve said the right thing instead of brushing her off like an idiot.
And the worst part? I get why she was upset.
That guy’s comment didn’t mean anything to me, but to her, it was just another example of people doubting her, underestimating her.
She’s spent her whole life proving she belongs, fighting to be taken seriously in a way I’ve never had to.
And I just stood there like an idiot and laughed.
I didn’t get it at the time, but I do now.
I want to tell her I’m sorry again. I want to make it up to her.
I also want to kiss her so badly it’s making me insane.
But I won’t do any of those things. Not tonight.
Because there’s something she doesn’t know about me—something I should have told her by now. But every time I get close to saying it, I back off. Coward.
It’s not like it’s some dark, earth-shattering secret, but it is something that matters. Something that’s shaped me more than I like to admit. And I have no idea how she’ll react when she finds out.
Tonight, though, isn’t the time for that conversation.
I shake the thought away and push back the covers to stand up. Lucy barely glances at me—until I reach for the hem of my shirt and strip it off in one easy motion.
Her breath catches.
It’s quiet, barely a sound, but I hear it, and I see the way her eyes go wide, her lips parting just slightly before she snaps her gaze back to the nightstand like it personally offended her.
I bite back a smirk.
“Relax, Quinn,” I murmur, tossing my shirt onto the chair. “I’m just getting into bed, not auditioning for a calendar.”
She scoffs, but it’s a little too sharp, a little too fast. “Like anyone would buy that calendar.”
I grin. “You’d buy it.”
“Not a chance.” Her eyes meet mine, and then slide lower—silently appreciating my defined pecs and each one of my abs, honed from hours spent at the gym and on the ice. I want to stand here a little longer, I want to flex—show off a little—but I won’t.
So instead, I chuckle and slide into bed, folding my arms behind my head like I don’t have a single thought in my brain. When in reality, every single thought is about her.
She huffs and turns off the lamp before climbing in beside me, keeping a respectable distance between us. But I can feel the warmth of her just a few inches away, and it’s enough to make my entire body tense with awareness.
I stare up at the ceiling. It’s going to be a long night.