Page 9 of Hockey Halloween
We glance at each other in a silent acknowledgment that we’ve both been scatterbrained tonight. We turn toward the club, every step taking us closer to the music and a sea of clubgoers.
“So, where are we going?” he asks, zipping up his jacket as we get outside ten minutes later.
My lips curve up. “How about we visit the Verity Museum of Hidden Histories?”
“Aren’t they closed this time of the day?”
“Yes,” I say, tugging him toward the corner. “But you happen to be looking at one of their historians who has an all-day access. One of the perks of knowing where all the secrets are buried.”
He slows his stride, brows raised in surprise. “You’re telling me you have the keys to a literal museum?”
“I don’t just have the keys. I also have access to the basement archives.”
He whistles low. “Damn. That’s even sexier than the mummy costume.”
“Keep talking that way and I might give you the full tour,” I nudge him with my elbow.
His voice dips. “I would love nothing more.”
We wait for the light to change, and I catch myself staring at him. There’s something in the way he said it that hints he’s not just talking about a museum tour. I’m not sure where this is going between us, but right now, with him by my side, I’m more than willing to find out.
We continue to walk. The autumn night air is cool against my skin. Next to me, the warmth of Nolan’s presence keeps me grounded, his steps matching mine as we make our way toward the museum. It's quieter out here, a few blocks away from the clubs.
“So,” Nolan says, breaking the silence, “how long have you worked for the Verity?”
“Around a year. I do twenty-five hours a week for them and the rest of my work week remotely to other locations across the country.”
“They won’t mind you bringing your date there?”
“Oh, you’re my non-date, so it’ll be fine.” I chuckle, the sound light and carefree. "Besides, we won’t be the first ones to visit outside of opening hours. The owners, a lovely older couple, love hearing stories from such visits.”
“Non-date, huh? That’s a new one.” He glances over, a curious smile tugging at his lips. “Is that your way of making sure there’s an escape plan if I turn out to be bad company?”
“Exactly. It’s all very strategic.”
We round a corner, the imposing building that houses the museum, gift shop and a café coming into view. The place is tranquil now, the crowds of the day long gone, leaving it cloaked in shadows.
"Welcome to the Verity Museum of Hidden Histories," I announce, my voice a mix of pride and nervousness. “My favorite spot in the City.”
Nolan takes in the sight front of us. "It’s even more impressive at night."
"Yes," I agree, feeling a sense of ownership over the place. "It has a different kind of magic after hours."
He steps closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and I can’t help but feel the electric charge between us. "Lead the way. I’m all yours."
His words land low in my stomach, hot and unexpected. For a fleeting moment, I forget how to breathe. The heat rushes to my cheeks, and even though I try to play it cool, the flutter beneath my ribs tells another story.
With a calming breath, I fish out the keycard from my wallet and unlock the side door. Once we step inside, the lore of the museum wraps around us like an embrace. The familiar hum of the automatic lights turning on and the stillness of the space create a feeling of intimacy that I have never felt in the months I’ve worked here.
As Nolan follows me through the empty halls, the energy between us shifts. With him beside me, I can finally let myself relax after an eventful evening.
“So, where would you like to start? There are plenty of interesting exhibits based on the colorful history of the City,” I explain.
“I can’t choose. What are our options?”
“There are too many to list. However, I’ve got a feeling which one you’ll find the most fascinating. Follow me.”
His gaze sweeps over the hallway and doors leading to different rooms, his eyes bright with curiosity. “What is it?”
