Page 50 of Wild Card 13

She sat behind her desk with her hands folded in front of her.

The sight irritated me immediately.

I pushed the door open.

Lucy didn't flinch. Didn't look surprised. Didn't even pretend to be surprised.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Professional. Polite. The exact same voice she'd used yesterday.

Something inside me snapped. "That's what we're doing?" I asked.

Her expression didn't change. "I don't know what that means."

A laugh escaped me. Short. Humorless. "Really?"

"Really."

I took two steps farther into the office.

The door clicked shut behind me. "You're seriously going to sit there and act like we don't know each other?"

For the first time since I'd walked in, something flickered across her face.

Gone almost instantly.

But I saw it.

And suddenly I didn't care about media.

Didn't care about the locker room chirping.

Didn't care about anything except the fact that after eight years, I was standing in front of the one woman who never seemed to get out of my brain.

“Yes, Buzz.” Her tone dripped with venom over my nickname before she added, “That is exactly what I am going to do.”

“Why in the fuck would that be your go-to, Lucy?” I gripped the edge of wood desk between us. It was light. I was ready to flip it.

“Self-preservation and reputation management,” she said flatly, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

My lungs were stripped of air. “Self…” I huffed. “Bullshit!”

“Listen to me, Buzz Burns.” Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “We are nothing more than two people trying to get through our workday. You are not my ex. I am not your first love. As far as the entire team is concerned, we met yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want the media circus to shift from Alois’s upcoming court appearance to your ex-flame working for the team and writing you up? Yeah, that would work out great in the locker room. Or did you forget the time Tim Ashford found my bra in your truck before practice and the entire year they made fun of you for it.”

“That was high school.”

“And hockey players are mature humans, right?” Lucy’s nose wrinkled as she snorted out a laugh.

“That's not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about?”

“You know what it's about.”

“No, Buzz. I really don't.”