Page 97 of Check & Chase
Had that been real? Or just my concussed brain conjuring what I wanted to hear?
“You ran onto the ice,” I say, the realization striking me suddenly. “After I went down. You were there.”
Her face pales slightly. “Yes.”
“But you’re terrified of the ice. Your PTSD…”
“Didn’t matter.” She cuts me off, finally meeting my eyes. “Not when you were hurt. Not when you were bleeding.”
The admission hits me harder than colliding with Tyler did. I know what it means, what it must have cost her to overcome that paralyzing fear, to force herself onto the very surface that shattered her dreams.
For me. She did it for me.
“Emma,” I whisper. “I heard you. In the ambulance. What you said.”
Color floods her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. You were unconscious.”
“I heard it.” I tighten my grip on her hand. “Did you mean it?”
The monitor beside my bed betrays my racing heart, the steady beep accelerating as I wait for her answer. Emma glances at it.
“Your heart rate…”
“Fuckmy heart rate. Did you mean it?”
She takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
One syllable. Three letters. It changes everything.
I try to sit up, needing to be closer to her, but pain explodes through my skull and Emma immediately pushes me back down.
“Don’t you dare. You have a severe concussion and facial fractures. Stay still.”
“Then you come here,” I growl, tugging on her hand. “Because I need to kiss you right now, and I can’t get up to do it.”
For a moment, she looks torn between medical responsibility and desire. Then, with a soft, defeated sound, she leans down, careful to avoid the IV and monitors, and brushes her lips against mine.
It’s the gentlest of kisses. Just the soft press of her mouth against mine, mindful of my injuries, yet containing more emotion than any kiss we’ve shared before.
Because it’s real. Not part of our charade, not driven by jealousy or pretense. Just Emma and me, finally acknowledging what’s been growing between us for weeks.
When she pulls back, her eyes are suspiciously bright. “I would’ve told you properly when you woke up. But then the doctors camein, and Donovan…”
“Tell me now,” I interrupt, needing to hear it while I’m fully conscious.
She hesitates, then cups my cheek gently, avoiding the stitches and swelling. “I love you, Chase Mitchell. And it terrifies me.”
Joy bursts in my chest, so powerful it momentarily drowns out the pain in my skull. “Why terrifying?”
“Because loving you complicates everything. My job, your career, our futures. Because Tyler hurt me once, and this could hurt so much worse.”
“I’m not him.”
“I know.” Her thumb strokes my uninjured cheek. “If you were, you wouldn’t have gone over those boards for my brother.”
“I would do it again.”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispers fiercely. “My heart can’t take it.”
