Page 51 of Cross Check Hearts

But who am I kidding? Nothing with Declan has ever been “just” anything.

I take a deep breath, centering myself the way I teach my students to do before a challenging pose, then cram my towel into my bag and leave the locker room.

I can do this. I can be professional. I can?—

I’ve barely taken a step into the studio when I freeze, my thoughts breaking off as my eyes widen. Declan is standing right in the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging through the sleeves of the tight black neoprene shirt he’s wearing. Just the sight of him makes my knees start to tremble again, but anxiety floods me almost instantly when I realize I don’t know how long he’s been standing here.

Or how much he heard.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I take him in—the broad shoulders, the powerful thighs, the casual confidence in his stance. His hair is slightly mussed, like he ran his fingers through it while he was waiting, and the shadow of stubble along his jaw only enhances the masculine lines of his face. It’s unfair how good he looks without even trying.

He smirks and takes a few steps closer, his workout pants hugging his toned thighs in a way that takes me right back to all the filthy things I was imagining in the shower. I swear, it’s like I can feel those muscles grinding against me with every step he takes until he stops less than a foot away from me with something flashing in his eyes.

“Did you need something?” he asks, and my heart feels like it’s going to explode in my chest.

“W-what do you mean?” I’m trying to play it cool and like I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but I can tell from the glint in his eye and the curve of his lips that he’s not buying it.

“I thought I heard you say my name.” He cocks his head, considering, then adds, “Actually, it sounded almost like youmoanedit.”

Chapter23

Declan

Hannah’s cheeks burst with blooms of red, starting at the center and rapidly spreading out like wildfire as she squeezes her gym bag to her chest like a safety blanket, and I can’t stop myself from grinning even wider as a sense of heady satisfaction swells in my chest.

I knew it.

I came to the studio early on purpose because I just couldn’t fucking wait to see her again, so I was disappointed when I first walked in and found the place empty. But since the door was wide open, it was a safe bet Hannah was here somewhere. I figured she’d stepped out for a second, maybe to run and get some food or to take a call or something between lessons, but then I heard the soft hissing of the shower in the locker room and the rhythmic patter of water hitting the tile flooring.

I didn’t want to eavesdrop, and I really wasn’t trying to, but as I was walking toward the locker room, I opened my mouth to call out to her to let her know I was here—but heard my name tumble from her lips instead. I froze as those two syllables reached my ear in her breathless, almost needy tone. It wasn’t loud, but it hit me like a ton of fucking bricks.

And it made me pretty damn sure what she was doing in the shower. Why else would my name be escaping her lips like that?

Still, part of me couldn’t believe it at first. For a few seconds, I panicked because I thought she’d seen me and was embarrassed that I was about to walk in on her naked or something, but then I realized she had no way to know I was in the building. There isn’t a bell or anything on the door to let the staff know when someone walks in.

So as much as I tried to think of anything else she might be up to in the shower all alone, there was only one conclusion I could come to about what she was really doing in there. And why my name was on her lips.

The way her face is flaming in front of me now all but confirms it.

“Were you…?” I trail off, arching a brow and fighting to keep my expression neutral.

I don’t know how it’s possible, but the blush on her face deepens even more. She shakes her head, trying to play it off like she has no idea what I’m talking about. But it’s not very convincing.

“Was I what?” she asks evasively, dodging the question. She breezes past me, the scent of her freshly showered body drifting in my nose, and I feel it tugging at my body like a hook, begging me to follow her. “Whatever you think you heard, you’re wrong.”

She stops at the shelf where the studio keeps their sanitized and rolled yoga mats. She pulls two out and tosses one to me, and I catch it easily.

“I mean, sure, I’ve had a concussion or two in my career, but I get regular checks and my hearing works just fine,” I tease her with a crooked smile as I follow her lead, unrolling my mat and spreading it out on the floor in front of me.

“Then maybe you should get it checked again,” she shoots back, narrowing her eyes at me.

She’s trying her best to stay cool, but she’s not very good at it, and the more she pretends, the more obvious it gets that she’s trying to cover up something.

She was definitely getting herself off in the shower, and it’s none of my business really, but part of me wants to hear her admit it. To hear her say that she was thinking of me while she touched herself like that.

Fuck, the thought alone makes my pants feel tighter, but watching her bend over to smooth her mat out on the floor doesn’t help. Her eyes snap to mine in the wall of mirrors in front of us, and her cheeks flame all over again. Pressing her lips together, she straightens and spins to face me.

“Why are you even here this early?” she asks tersely. “You should’ve shown up when your session was supposed to start, not twenty minutes before.”

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