Page 38 of In My Hockey Era (Must Love Hockey #1)
PENALTY ON ME
Bennett
T he bass from the club thuds through my chest as I stare down at Lucy.
I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here.
Actually, scratch that—I know exactly what I’m doing here.
I’m here because Chase’s buddy, Levi, sent him a text a half hour ago that read: Dude, your boy’s girl is here, intent on getting DRUNK.
And Chase, being Chase, showed me the message. Said, Don’t do anything stupid, Wilder.
And now?
I’m here, definitely about to do something stupid.
The air is thick with alcohol and sweat, the flashing neon lights making everything feel chaotic. It took me less than a minute to find her.
Lucy.
She was on the dance floor, her body moving in time with the music, her head tipped back, hair spilling over her shoulders. In the smallest little black dress I’ve ever seen her in.
And yeah—there was a guy behind her.
He wasn’t touching her, not really. He was just there , hovering too close, a hand ghosting near her waist like he was waiting for permission to close the distance. To seal the deal. To lean in close…make her laugh. Kiss her. Maybe more. Maybe take her home tonight.
Something ugly surges through me.
I watched for all of five seconds before I made my move.
I cut through the crowd, my jaw tight, my hands clenched into fists. The second I was close enough, I stepped in. Lucy spotted me, looking panicked. She pulled away. But it was too late. The damage was done.
The guy took one look at my build and wisely backed off.
And now she’s just staring at me, her hands on her hips. Her eyes are a little glassy. Flushed cheeks. Hair tousled.
She’s tipsy .
She blinks up at me. “Wilder?”
I don’t answer. Not yet. I just take her in—this whole night, this whole situation—and it hits me all over again just how much I’ve missed her.
But I don’t get to miss her.
Because she’s the one who walked away. Just like Holly did.
Seriously, am I defective or what?
“What are you doing here?” she asks again, her voice loud over the music.
My lips press together. “Question is, what the hell are you doing here?”
She stiffens. “Excuse me?”
I don’t let her go. “Dancing with some guy you don’t even know—”
“Oh, so what?” Her eyes spark with challenge. “I’m not allowed to dance now?”
I exhale sharply, flexing my hands before I reach out and touch her.
“I just—” I rake a hand through my hair, trying to shake the jealousy strangling me. “You know what? Never mind.”
“ Never mind ?” she echoes, crossing her arms.
I glare at her. “Lucy—”
She steps closer, her expression a little too smug. “Are you jealous, Wilder?”
I let out a low, humorless laugh. “Is that a serious question right now? What the hell , Quinn.”
Her eyes flash, that fire I love—loved?—burning hot. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to show up here, act like I owe you an explanation.”
“I don’t get to do this?” My voice sharpens. “I don’t get to be pissed that you’re out here dancing with some guy when one week ago, you were in my bed?”
Her jaw tightens, her throat working. I watch her swallow, see the hesitation flicker across her face.
But just as quickly, it’s gone.
She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin. “Yeah, well… a week ago, I didn’t know you had a secret past.”
The words land like a slap.
I clench my fists at my sides, counting to five before I respond. “I should have told you,” I admit. “I know that. And I’m sorry.”
Her mouth opens, like she’s about to say something else, but then she closes it again. She shakes her head.
I step closer, lowering my voice. “Lucy, I didn’t keep it from you to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
Her breath hitches. And I can see the moment she decides that’s not enough .
She steps back.
Every part of me screams to reach for her. To fix this.
Instead, I swallow the lump in my throat. Lucy looks a bit unsteady on her feet, and I realize, she’s drunk .
I shoot Mia a look. “Make sure she gets home safe.”
Lucy glares at me. “Don’t talk black to me.”
Mia snorts. “Oh, she’s drunk drunk.”
I barely suppress a groan, rubbing a hand over my face.
Lucy wobbles again, and I instinctively reach out, steadying her before she can argue.
Her fingers curl against my forearm for half a second—before she pulls away.
My jaw tightens.
I step back, nodding at Mia. “Get her home, okay?”
Mia gives me a look—one that says I have questions, but now’s not the time —before looping an arm around Lucy’s waist.
“Come on, babe,” she murmurs. “Let’s go.”
Lucy doesn’t fight her.
But just before they reach the exit, she glances back at me.
Our eyes lock.
There’s so much I want to say. So much I should say.
But instead, I just stand there.
Helpless.
Watching the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me walk away.
And this time?
I don’t know if she’s coming back.