Page 14 of Body Checked By the Defenseman

I do as he says, lining up the wood. He passes me a pencil and a measuring tape, and I mark the pieces of wood for him.

“Thanks for doing this,” I say to break the silence.

“It’s nothing, Rubes.”

He smiles. I smile and drop the wood. It lands on my toe. “Ouch, shit.” I hop around howling from pain.

“Careful,” Mack says since I am hopping around, and it’s a small space with all kinds of tools. He takes hold of my arm. “Come sit on the stool for a second.” He guides me to a stool, and I sit, but I still haven’t caught my breath from the pain. “Let’s take a look,” he says, and he goes to remove my sneaker.

“That isn’t necessary,” I assure.

“You’re on the track team. You need all your toes in good working condition,” he reminds as he removes my sneaker and sock.

“It’s a little red,” he observes, holding on to the toe.

“Agh, that’s ticklish.” I pull my foot out of his grasp.

“I see some things haven’t changed.” He smiles conspiratorially.

“Still excruciatingly ticklish,” I admit, feeling my breath hitch as I look into his eyes.

He clears his throat. “Your toe is going to be just fine.” He pulls my sock on and places the sneaker on my foot. He offers a hand, which I take, and he pulls me up. Only I lose my balance and fall into him. I should recover quickly but instead I take in his scent and the warm, hard feel of his body pressed to mine. It’s like someone has pressed a slow-motion button as I place my hand on his hard chest and use it to balance myself. Only I don’t feel balanced. I feel completely off from the warmth of his skin through his wifebeater, the scent of him, and the strength of his arms.

“Periwinkle?” he says my name, but it sounds like a question. “You were always so beautiful.”

My mouth turns dry as the ability to speak escapes me until I blink and get my wits back.

“You think I’m beautiful?” I ask with surprise.

A slow smile tugs his perfect lips. “Always have.”

“Always,” I repeat his word in a daze when I feel something pressed against my lower belly. “Wood.”

“Huh?” he asks, confused.

He’s sporting wood from being pressed up against me, and I am so gone I can’t formulate a sentence.

“You, wood,” I mutter, completely embarrassed by my social incompetence.

“Ah,” he says and his gray eyes light with mischief. “I have a beautiful girl pressed up against me. You can’t blame a guy.” He backs away and adjusts himself.

“Wow, okay, I am so embarrassed,” I pull away and then I reach for the wood I dropped on my toe.

“Why?” Macklin asks.

“I. . .you. . .you’ve always been so handsome,” I blurt and instantly regret it. “Shit, sorry.” The heel of my palm comes up to my forehead.

“You think I’m attractive?” Macklin asks.

I take a large intake of breath before exhaling. “How could I not?”

“Hey, guys,” Hayden says, walking up the driveway. “What’s going on?”

My brother looks between Macklin and me.

“Macklin is making me a bookcase, even though I told him it was unnecessary,” I explain to my brother.

“It’s no big deal,” Macklin assures.

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