Page 18 of Body Check

I swallow, hard.

Then fasten my gaze on his broad chest as he ambles closer with his long-legged gait. “True,” he murmurs, “itwaswhat I wanted. But I specifically remember you sayin’ that I’ve got to bank my own fires. Call me curious—what changed for you? And don’t tell me nothing. Don’t lie.”

He stops in front of me, less than a foot away, and I lift my gaze from his chest to his throat to his rugged face. “It’s exactly as I said to the team,” I lie smoothly, “it feels wrong not to take this step with y’all, considering I’ve been around for half the lifespan of the franchise.” I offer a delicate shrug. “I don’t want to live with regrets.”

Slowly, as though he doesn’t believe me, Jackson asks, “So, you’d regret not doing this?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t regret leaving the heftier salary on the table?”

Without a doubt, he’s trying to get a read on me. He stands with his shoulders rounded and his gaze locked on my face, and I fight the urge to squirm under his unwavering stare. One heartbeat. That’s all I last before I’m averting my gaze and glancing past him to the row of stalls along the back wall.

“Holls.”

At the determined grit in his voice, I fold my arms across my belly and cup my opposite elbows. “Do we have to go there?” I draw in a sharp breath. “Can’t we just, for once, let a decision stand without dissecting it a million times over? I’m taking the job for the Blades organization. I’m doing this for me.” I fall back a step. “Not for you.”

My feet move without my conscious realization of it, backpedaling me all the way up until my hand is on the doorknob and my heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat.

“Tell me to my face that you’re not doingGetting Puckedfor me.”

Like my body has a will of its own, my forehead gently kisses the cool, metal door that’s my escape from the locker room. My escape fromhim.

Why.

Why can’t he just let me leave without tearing all of our carefully sewn scars back open?

Why does he always have topush?

Shoulders straightening, I press my back to the door. “All those trophies you’ve won are inflating your ego, Jackson.” God, I hate the way he watches me now—like he knows what I don’t want to admit, like he’ll stop at nothing until I give him what he wants.Like he’s locked in the same hell that I’ve been in for the last year without him.“The universe doesn’t revolve around you.”

And because Jackson has never been good with boundaries, he eclipses the space between us until his masculine scent is infiltrating my senses and all I see are his broad shoulders and hard chest.

The back of my head collides with the door as I stare him down. “Stop pushing,” I edge out, my voice sounding breathless even to my own ears.So pathetic.“For God’s sake, just—”

His thumb catches on my lower lip in a silent order for me to shut up.

I gulp at the intimate—unexpected—contact.

Audibly.

Ridiculously.

Embarrassment seeps into my veins.

And then I shove at his bulky chest, finally earning myself some much-needed breathing room. “You’re crossing boundaries.”

Jaw visibly clenched, he balls his hands into fists and sets them on his hips. On me, that pose would look like I’m throwing a tantrum. On him, a pro-hockey player and a man who has always kept a tight leash on his emotions, he looks like he’s on the verge of blowing a gasket.

I don’t blame him.

My temper is . . . God, it’sboiling.

Behind my back, I fist the doorknob. “You want the truth, Captain?” I lower my voice, fury lacing every word. “The truth is that no matter how much I wish I could toss you to the wolves and not care, I can’t do that. Your words got to me, I admit it. They got to me so damn badly that I pulled out our wedding album and realized that, for better or worse, I can’t walk away from you when I should—when it’s in my best interest to lay down the sword and get the hell out of dodge. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

His lips part on a sharp breath. “Holls—”

“Don’t touch me.”Don’t touch me or I’ll shatter.I yank open the door with more force than necessary. “You want to know if I regret taking onGetting Pucked?” I shake my head, my hair catching on my chin. I shove the strands back with a rough, shaky hand. “I don’t regret working with the Blades. I don’t regret turning down that six-figure check. But I regret that even after all this time, I can’t tell you no.”

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