5. Buzz #2
I blinked and the locker room disappeared. The smell of coffee and tape gave way to the quiet hallway outside Hockey Operations.
Bea stepped out first. Freya right behind her. Both women immediately glaring at me.
Freya looked from me to the office and back again before shaking her head.
"You know you've got media in like fifteen minutes, right?" Bea whispered as she passed.
I stared at her. She stared back.
"Great talk," she said finally, looking at me the same way somebody might look at a man standing on train tracks while a locomotive approached in the distance.
Her gaze flicked toward Lucy's office. Then back to me.
Bea sighed, then hooked her arm through Freya's. "Come on."
Freya dug her heels in. "Oh, absolutely not. I want to see how this goes."
"Freya."
"I have questions."
"You always have questions."
"They're good questions."
Bea started dragging her away.
Freya twisted around to point at me. "Get your head in the game, Burns." Then she pointed through the doorway. "And whatever this is, maybe don't make it worse."
I watched them disappear down the hallway.
The second they turned the corner, the smile vanished from my face.
The hallway went quiet.
My pulse thudded against my ribs.
Inside the office, Lucy hadn't moved.
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.”
The way she said it made something hot flare inside my chest.
Like I was the unreasonable one.
Like I was standing in her office throwing a tantrum because she wouldn't acknowledge our tragic teenage romance.
“You looked me straight in the eye yesterday.”
“I did.”
“And acted like we'd never met.”
“Because that's what needed to happen.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No. That's what you decided needed to happen.”
Lucy pushed back from her desk just enough that I knew I'd finally gotten under her skin.
“Do you honestly think this is fun for me?”
I laughed. “That's a hell of a question coming from the woman who wrote me up before saying hello.”
Her jaw tightened. “There it is.”
“What?”
“The real problem.”
“My real problem is that my ex-girlfriend showed up in Hockey Operations without warning me.”
“No.” Lucy pointed at me. “Your real problem is that somebody finally held you accountable.”
I stared at her. Then barked out another laugh. “Seriously?”
“You were late.”
“It was one—”
“You were late, Ty.”
The use of my name hit harder than it should have. For one stupid second, I wasn't standing in her office anymore.
I was hearing her call me out for forgetting an assignment. For skipping studying. For being an idiot.
“You don't get it,” I said quietly.
Her expression hardened. “Then explain it.”
I opened my mouth. And immediately realized I had no idea how. Because how was I supposed to explain this?
How was I supposed to explain that seeing her sitting across that conference room table had felt like getting hit by a truck?
How was I supposed to explain that I'd spent eight years trying not to think about her and suddenly she was everywhere?
Instead I said the worst possible thing. “You made me feel stupid.”
The words hung between us.
Lucy's face went completely still. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, I don't think I did.”
“You sat there acting like I was some random player.”
“You are a player.”
I stepped back. Because somehow that hurt more than everything else she'd said.
The guilt flashed across her face so quickly I almost missed it. Then it vanished behind another wall. Another layer of professionalism. Another reminder that she wasn't going to give me anything.
A sharp knock sounded against the glass.
Both of us looked over.
Sarah Yu stood there holding a tablet. One eyebrow raised. “Buzz.”
Shit. Media.
I glanced toward the clock on the wall.
Sarah's expression didn't change. “Unless you'd like me to explain to the reporters why you're late.”
Lucy crossed her arms.
I could practically feel the response sitting on the tip of her tongue.
Go ahead, Burns. Give me another reason.
The realization hit me instantly.
I was doing it again. Exactly what she'd written me up for yesterday. Exactly what she'd been talking about.
I hated that she was right.
Almost as much as I hated wanting her.
Sarah looked between us. Then wisely decided she wanted no part of whatever this was. “I'll give you thirty seconds.”
She disappeared.
I looked back at Lucy.
She looked back at me.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us gave an inch.
“Congratulations.”
Her eyebrows pulled together. “For what?”
“You win.”
Something flickered across her face. Confusion? Hurt? I didn't stay long enough to figure it out.
I yanked the door open.
“Buzz—”
I stopped. I looked back at her one last time. At the woman I'd loved. At the woman sitting behind a desk pretending we were strangers.
Not because she said my nickname. Because for one second I thought she might finally say something that mattered.
Instead, she exhaled slowly. “Don't be late.”