Page 3 of Bound

“Of course,” I tell him, tossing a smile in his direction that’s fake as hell before hurrying to the table I set up on the far side of the room earlier.

“You good?” Smitty booms—because the big defenseman never just talks, he booms, his voice echoing across the room, filling up all available space…except with his woman.

She’s the opposite of him—soft-spoken and shy—and Smitty is different with her.

A big teddy bear.

Almost quiet.

Definitely gentle.

I can’t lie. I’m jealous of that gentle he gives Kailey.

My life hasn’t?—

No.

“I’m good!” I call back, clinging to the make-believe that I’m fine, that I’m completely unaffected by the man who pleasures me in my dreams and glares at me in real life. “Just working my way through my mental check list as usual,” I say lightly, tossing Smitty his pregame snack of choice—a pack of Sour Patch Kids—then tapping my temple with now free hand. “It’s quite long today.”

He smiles at me—the warm, Smitty smile that won me over years ago now, that made me trust, that helped me open my heart enough to trust him and the others.

I would do anything for him.

Anything forallof them.

Which is why Jackson can’t stand me.

“Always a million miles ahead, aren’t you?”

Unbidden, my gaze swivels to Jackson, who’s come close enough that my stomach flutters, my body wants to sway forward, to feel all the strength of him against the softness of me.

“No,” I say quietly, “but I try.”

That makes him scowl, to unleash the familiar glare in my direction.

“Here’s your sandwich,” I tell him, shoving it at him and forcing a smile as I turn to the table and start unloading my bag and the rest of the goodies, double-checking that everyone has what they need to play the best hockey they can play.

“You coming on the next road trip?” Smitty asks.

Now my smile is genuine. “I wouldn’t miss New York for anything.”

The bright lights, the bustling city. Central Park. Food that makes my mouth water just thinking about it. Bakeries and Broadway shows.

So full of life when mine…

Isn’t.

Or wasn’t.

Things are different now.

I’m not alone. I have friends and?—

Jackson snorts and I clench my back teeth together, ignore the bolt of pain cascading through my jaw, then turn for the door.

“Wait,” he mutters, reaching out as though to take my arm.

I skitter back.

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