Page 92 of The Chase

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m coming in, okay?”

I cross the threshold and am greeted by a cloud of steam. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to both the darkness and the haze, for me to make out the bulky figure in the stall nearest the door. I’m not sure why I don’t turn on the light. I guess because he didn’t. If he wants to take a shower in the dark, who am I to stop him?

I inch my way toward the stall. In the shadows I glimpsethe swirl of his tats and the ridges of his abs. Cotton fills my mouth when it occurs to me that he’s naked. The only barrier between Fitz’s naked body and myself is a short swinging door. All I have to do is nudge that partition, and I’d get an eyeful of—

“What are you doing in here?” His gruff voice interrupts my thoughts.

“I wanted to make sure you’re all right. How’s the eye?”

“Fine,” he grunts.

He turns the shower off and steps toward the little door. My heart rate triples. Water drips down his bare chest, rippling over his tattoo and trickling between his defined pecs. One muscular arm reaches out, and I forget how to breathe. Is he—

Reaching for the towel on the hook behind my head? Yes, he certainly is.

I gulp hard, hoping to bring some moisture to my arid mouth. Fitz wraps the towel around his waist and exits the stall, but rather than go into the other room, he stays put. We stand there in the darkness, facing each other. The air is still hot and muggy from the steam, but now it’s also thick with tension.

The sexual kind.

The“holy shit, this guy is looking at me like he’s already inside me”kind.

I try to ease backward, but my knees knock together. I honestly didn’t think it through when I decided to check on him. He’d just left the ice in the middle of a fast-paced, demanding game. He’s in pain because he took a puck to the face. He’s probably still hopped up on adrenaline.

He’s dangerous.

I don’t fear for my safety. But I fear for my sanity.

Shadows dance across his masculine features. I catch a glimpse of his tongue dragging over his bottom lip. Long fingers scraping over his wet hair. Then he speaks in a gravelly voice that sends a hot shiver up my spine.

“You should leave.”

My pulse hammers in my throat. It’s all I hear, the relentlessthump-thumpof my heart. “What if I don’t?” I find myself asking, and we both hear the breathy note in each word.

He moves closer. Slowly. Deliberately. Until he’s completely backed me up against the tiled wall.

“If you don’t go? Then I’ll probably kiss you,” he says bluntly.

My mouth is so dry I can’t answer him. I swallow, once, twice. It’s pointless, though. There’s nothing to swallow. No saliva, just the sawdust that’s coating my throat. My heart beats even faster. I swear it’s going to give out on me any second.

He dips his head, and his next words rumble in my ear. Low and silky. “What do you think, Summer? You want me to kiss you?”

It’s the sexiest question I’ve ever heard in my life, voiced by the sexiest guy I’ve ever met in my life. I find the strength to lift my head so I can meet his eyes. It’s too dark to fully make out his expression, but I don’t need to. I know exactly what he’s feeling right now. I’m feeling it too.

Hot, uncontrollable lust.

“Yes or no,” he whispers.

I finally find my voice. “Yes.”

20

FITZ

I’M GONE FOR THIS GIRL.

So gone.

I should be urging her to leave the locker room. My teammates could come barreling in at any second—there wasn’t much time left in the third period before Doc Alex forced me to leave the ice so she could stitch me up.

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