Page 71 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“Just wait. It’ll be worth it.”

“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”

I can’t help but laugh. Thankfully, our driver is distracted, talking into his headphones, and is not listening to us.

“Trust me, that is the very last thing I want to do with you, darlin’.” I glance over just in time to see her cheeks flush pink.

“You need to stop saying things like that,” she says quietly.

“The truth?” I tease.

“You know what I mean,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “And anyway, why are we driving so far? You didn’t want to miss the puck drop.”

“Now you understand why I needed to get you moving?”

We only drive for a few more minutes before our driver takes the final turn that will lead us to Bills.

His bar is in the middle of nowhere, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Only the locals know it exists. Well, the locals and us. It was a find that Fletch stumbled across entirely by accident, and it’s a place we’ve all come out to when we’ve wanted to enjoy a game like we used to before everyone knew our faces.

Okay, so every single person in the bar knows exactly who we are, but they show a kind of respect that’s rare elsewhere. And as soon as the word gets out about us hanging out here occasionally, it’ll all change, I’m sure.

“Okay, now I’m even more convinced you’re going to kill me,” Sienna mutters, glancing around ominously at our surroundings.

I chuckle. “It’s a bar, Sienna. People would see me if I did it here. Wait there.”

“Wait? What?” she calls before I close the door and march around the car as fast and as smoothly as I can. I don’t want to think about the reason why I’m watching my team instead of being a part of them. I just want a normal night out.

A laugh bursts out of me. Who the hell am I kidding? This isn’t a normal night out. I’m on a date with a woman. That is about as far away from normal as I can get.

By the time I get around to her side of the car, Sienna has already pushed the door open, and her feet are on the ground, ready to stand.

“I said to wait,” I growl, irritated that I can’t open the door for her.

Movement in the front of the car catches my attention, but I don’t turn to look at the driver. He can judge me all he likes for being a gentleman. I might have left my childhood home behind in my dust, but there are some lessons my southern belle mom taught me that will stay with me until I die. Respecting women, even if I’m just spending the night with them, is one of them.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting …”

“Well, start expecting, darlin’,” I warn as I press my hand to the small of her back and begin leading her toward the entrance. A smirk twitches at my lips when I feel her shudder at my innocent contact.

The second we step into the bar, a sense of belonging washes through me. It smells of stale beer, but to me, it’s perfect.

All eyes turn our way as we walk past the tables and booths, but while many meet my eyes, they don’t even attempt to stop me. Instead, they just nod in greeting as I guide Sienna to our hidden booth at the back of the bar.

“This place is wild,” she says once I’ve helped her out of her jacket and she’s slipped onto the bench seat, her eyes everywhere.

She isn’t wrong. It’s like a museum for ice hockey. There is memorabilia covering every inch of the place.

“How is it so quiet? If people knew about this place, there’d be a line around the block to get inside.”

“That’s a part of its charm,” I tell her, sliding a menu in her direction. “It’s hockey’s best-kept secret.”

She looks up, her eyes holding mine and a soft, relaxed smile playing on her lips, one I remember her wearing almost every second we were together that summer.

A little stab of pain radiates from my heart. How doesn’t she remember me? Sure, I look different now. But…fuck. It fucking wrecks me to think that I wasn’t as important to her as she is to me.

“Well, thank you for sharing it with me,” she says sincerely before looking back at the menu as a server saunters over.

“Good evening, sir,” our server, Hannah, says. Her tone is friendly; there’s no hint of anything untoward in it. But that doesn’t stop Sienna’s gaze snapping up to her, a scowl on her face the second the word “sir” rolls off her lips.