Page 56 of Chips & Checks
“Let’s just say I learned the hard way that I shouldalwayswear a shirt when cooking bacon.”
I wince. “Ah, the ol’ nipple burn?”
“My nips chafed for, like, three weeks after that.” Bowen shudders.
“I can imagine.” I grab a plate from the cupboard and fill it with some fruit, avocado toast, and a small serving of overnight oats. He even put in chia seeds. That’s my favorite. And, for good measure, I take two more strips of bacon.
How did he even know about the chia seeds? Has he been paying that much attention? A sudden warmth fills my chest, spreading outward, mixing uncomfortably with the fear of hoping for more. It would be so much easier if he weren’t this thoughtful. If he could just go back to being the superficial, rule-following Bowen Murphy I originally signed up for.
He takes pretty much everything else. I shouldn’t be surprised, given how huge he is and how much food athletes can put away. We sit down to eat and split a pot of coffee.
“So, what time am I picking you up tonight?”
I shake my head. “We can meet at the event.”
Bowen pauses halfway through loading up his spoon. “Um,hell no?My father would kill me. I’ll be meeting you at your door and escorting you safely to the fundraiser. And back. Hawthorne can’t be trusted. So until he is neutralized…”
“Neutralized?” I repeat.
“Vi.” All traces of humor have left Bowen’s face. “You’re tiny. I don’t care if you’re carrying pepper spray or holding your keys in your knuckles or whatever. Chad isdangerous,and you know he won’t take no for an answer.”
I curl in on myself. The memory of being backed against the counter, with Chad right in my face, makes me sick. Bowen’s right. Chad’s as dangerous as he assumes. I’d like to blow it off, to say that I can handle it. But Chadshowed up at my doorlast night. If he’d knocked, I might have opened it without thinking. Could I have forced it closed again? Would a locked door even stop him?
No, I’m blowing this out of proportion. Unless I’m not? I mean, Chad wouldn’t break into my house. That would be extreme.
Even as I think it, I realize that I’m not willing to take that risk. Better yet, I don’t have to. Bowen’s right here, offering me protection. The muscles in my shoulders relax as I study him from the corner of my eye.
His protectiveness floods me with a sense of safety I haven’t felt in years. It’s terrifying how easily I could get used to it. To him. Bowen’s insistence isn’t casual—it’s determined, almost fierce. And I want to believe it’s just him being a good guy, butdeep down, a dangerous hope whispers that maybe, just maybe, I mean something real to him.
“You can pick me up at six,” I say.
“Great.” Bowen raises his coffee cup and taps the rim against mine. “I’ll be there.”
His words echo in my head, simple and reassuring. Yet they feel like something far bigger. Like a promise. My chest tightens. I want it to mean more than convenience, more than safety. But Bowen’s rules are still in play as long as he says they are. I’m not a boundary violator. That’s what Chad’s doing to me right now, and I don’t like it. So I need to remember that, even if every broken rule makes it harder to keep my distance.
* * *
Ash shows up at my condo uninvited around two. It’s not unusual for her to drop by on my days off, but the intensity of her gaze leaves me unsettled. She’s got that look. The one she gets when she’s sniffed out gossip and plans to chew it like bubble gum.
“I haven’t seen much of you lately.” She settles onto my couch and folds her legs under her like a Zen master who knows where all the bodies are buried. “What’s the deal?”
“I’ve been busy,” I say with a shrug, keeping my voice even. “You know how it is during hockey season.”
Ash narrows her eyes. “Uh-huh. Busy with tape jobs or tongue jobs?”
I choke. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She’s already smirking. “I mean, I get it. You’re fake dating a walking thirst trap. I just need to know—have you given any blow jobs lately? Broken the cherry of felatio?”
“Hell no,” I say, offended on principle. “But I have taken up a new hobby.”
Ash snickers, eyes glittering. “Breaking hearts? You’ve been doing that for years. All those poor hockey players who never get a chance because of your stupid rule.”
“That rule protects my entire career,” I mutter, dragging a blanket over my lap like I’m shielding myself from her judgment. Or the truth. “But I might be tweaking it a little.”
Ash practically shimmies with excitement. “We’re still talking about Bowen, right?”
“Yup.” I pull my phone from the couch cushion and unlock it. “Remember the list of rules he sent me?”
