Page 60 of Cross Checked
He had me there.
I rolled my eyes and walked faster instead, fingers tightening around the treadmill handles while I tried not to notice the way his forearms flexed every time he lifted.
The room filled with late-nineties to early-two-thousands alternative rock, the hum of machines, and the rhythmic clank of weights while Cade moved through another set with irritatingly beautiful focus.
Everything about him was disciplined. The food. The workouts. The sleep schedule. The structure. His entire life revolved around keeping his body strong enough to survive hockey.
And goodness, it showed.
“Okay,” he said between reps, slightly out of breath now. “What should I expect from your brothers regarding this weeks street hockey match?”
I laughed softly. “They legit play and scream, ‘Kill them all’ as if they are gods on the asphalt
“Yeah.” He sat up slowly, forearms braced against his knees while he caught his breath, chest rising and falling hard enough to drag my attention straight toward the sweat sliding slowly down the center of his stomach.
I looked away immediately.
Absolutely not.
“Are they immediately gonna check me every thirty seconds?”
I smiled despite myself. “No. They’ll fight over you being on what team because you’re Mr. Hockey.”
He groaned immediately, dropping his head back dramatically. “That’s concerning.”
“You literally skate into a screaming arena every weekend.”
“Still concerning.”
I stepped off the treadmill long enough to grab my water bottle, condensation cooling my fingertips while I took a long drink.
“They trust me though,” I said more quietly after a second. “My dad and brothers, I mean. They know I am bringing the secret weapon.”
Cade’s eyes lifted toward me instantly, attention locking onto me so completely it almost made my stomach tighten. That was the thing about him. When Cade focused on something, the rest of the world seemed to disappear around it.
And lately, he had started paying way too much attention to me. Not surface-level attention either. Cade noticed everything.
The bruise on my wrist. The way I automatically scanned exits walking into rooms. The split-second tension that hit my body anytime voices got too loud unexpectedly before I forced myself to relax again.
I had slipped letting him watch me the way he did. That was the terrifying part, because I never slipped.
Normally I kept long sleeves on until marks faded. Normally I covered bruises with makeup or jewelry or clothes that would hide them. Normally I stayed aware enough not to get comfortable around men.
But Cade distracted me.
And honestly, that scared the hell out of me because comfort made women careless. Luke had taught me that lesson thoroughly enough for the scars to live in my nervous system now.
That was the terrifying thing about Luke. He didn’t look dangerous when people were watching. He looked calm. Protective. Handsome. The kind of guy parents trusted automatically.
Now every time Cade paid too much attention to me, part of my body reacted before my brain could catch up.
Not because Cade and Luke were the same. They weren’t. That was why it felt even more dangerous. Luke’s attention was about ownership. Cade’s attention felt like safety.
Which honestly might have terrified me more.
Because if Cade met Luke, would he fall for the act too? Would he see the calm, charming version everybody else saw? Or would he notice the cracks the same way he noticed everything else about me lately?
The thought twisted uneasily through my chest because eventually those worlds were going to collide whether I wanted them to or not. Luke knew where my family lived. He knew my routines. He knew Sundays usually meant Bennett house chaos and grilled food and cheering for whatever game was on the big screen loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
