Page 36 of Body Check

Jackson: Bless her heart.

Hunt: Holly!!!! Welcome!

Harrison: Hunt, dude, we agreed to let Carter roll out the proverbial red carpet. Wait your turn.

Unknown Number: She hasn’t said anything yet…you think we scared her off?

Unknown Number: If we did, I blame Kammer.

Unknown Number:What the fuck, Cain?? I didn’t do shit. Calm your tits.

Unknown Number: My tits are calm, asshole. Stop looking at them.

Unknown Number: I’m not even in the same building as you!!

Unknown Number: Stop thinking about them, then.

Beaumont: Children, behave—before I take my stick and shove it where the sun don’t shine.

Hunt: This conversation went downhill so fast.

Tearing my gaze from what is clearly some sort of group chat for the Blades players, I hop off the couch with a mutter that I’ll be back. Shelby protests that I’m leaving in the middle of a segment of us interviewing Henri Bordeaux, but I have bigger fish to fry right now.

Like figuring out why I’ve been added to the so-called “Safe Space.”

The same elusive group chat Jackson spent all of his time in while we were married.

At least, I’ve got a feeling it’s the same one.

Shutting the door behind me, I step into the hall and head for my office. The floor is devoid of all light, but I’ve spent so many late hours here that it’s no problem at all to feel my way to my office and let myself in.

City lights dance through my window, giving the room an almost ethereal glow.

All the while, my phone continues to vibrate in my hand like it’s a ticking time bomb. I scan the group text once more, the phone’s luminous screen making it easy to read the messages:

Jackson: Cain, calm your tits. Kammer, stop being a bitch. Beaumont, for fuck’s sake, man, leave the stick talk to your wife or on the ice.

Harrison: Guys, show just started.

Beaumont: Holy shit, Carter, you sound like a frog. Scratch that, you sound like you swallowed a dick.

Unknown Number: What size dick?

Hunt: Medium. Not girthy. Big, fat head though. Wicked veiny.

Jackson: Y’all are a bunch of idiots. Also, can we PLEASE watch the language now that y’all begged me to add Holly?

Unknown Number: Oh, shit, I forgot already. Sorry Holly!

Unknown Number: Sorry Holly

Bordeaux: I miss everything, yes?

No doubt about it, their group thread is a disaster zone and a PR catastrophe in the waiting.

And, somehow, I’ve found myself in the thick of it all.

With sweaty palms, I scroll through my contacts for the one person I haven’t called directly in a year. I wait, heart in my throat, for Jackson to answer, torn between hoping that he picks up and praying that he doesn’t.

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