Page 73 of Over the Line

“Thanks.” I slid my hands into my coat pockets just to stop myself from reaching for him. “Chris played a big part in that. You should be proud.”

“I am. Definitely.” The mention of his son didn’t cool anything in his expression. Not the nerves. Not the heat that I didn’t think I was imagining.

The noise and voices from the locker room just barely carried over my pounding heart, reminding me we were in a more or less public place. Definitely not somewhere we needed to be caught eye-fucking.

Because that was what we were doing. He was looking at me the way he had that night in my kitchen, and I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t doing the same damn thing.

Not here. Not now. Not with him.

I cleared my throat and broke eye contact. “I, uh…”

“How’s your face?” he asked.

My—oh. Right.

I fought the impulse to touch the bruise. “Sore, but it’s fine. No broken cheekbone this time.”

Garrett laughed, oblivious to what that did to my pulse or my body temperature. “Glad to hear it.”

And then… we were standing there in silence. That weird silence when two people had no idea what to say. Or, in my case, when there was something I desperately wanted to say, but this wasn’t the time, the place, or the person.

Clearing my throat, I gestured in the direction I’d been heading. “I’ll see you at the next game.”

“Right. Yeah.” He smiled, almost masking the… disappointment? Relief? Frustration? “See you at the next game.”

Before I could talk myself into staying, I got the hell out of there.

Physically, anyway.

My idiot mind stayed exactly where my feet had been planted. There in that hallway, staring into those eyes. Even after I was in my car and out of the garage and nearly on the freeway, I still couldn’t pull myself out of that moment with him.

Or out of how badly I wanted to whip this car around and go right back.

The way he’d looked at me tonight—both in the hallway and through the Zamboni gate—I couldn’t get it out of my head. I couldn’t ignore the fire in his eyes or the way one glance had sent electricity crackling down my spine.

Could I ignore the way seeing him had torpedoed my game right up until I’d been high-sticked in the face? Probably, yeah. And who was I kidding—that was only going to get worse. Garrett was going to keep coming to games. I was going to keep losing my mind every time I saw him.

If the pull between us was this strong, why keep ignoring it?

Yes, giving in would be selfish. Yes, this was something I wanted for me and no one else. Well, no one except Garrett. But for once in my goddamned life, I wanted something for me. Not for my hockey team. Not for the League. Not for the fans. For me.

I gave everything I had to this sport and this team. I paid for it daily with all this pain that never quite went away.

Did I also have to give up the first spark of real connection I’d had in years? All in the name of being a professional and setting a good example?

Fuck it.

I nosed onto the side of I-279 and put on my hazards. Hands unsteady, I wrote out a text.

Without a second thought, I sent it.

Then I pulled back onto the freeway and continued toward home, my heart pounding all the way.

CHAPTER 19

GARRETT

My phone pinged as I was merging onto the freeway.