Page 75 of Cross Checked
Because suddenly so much about him makes sense now. The emotional compartmentalization. The control issues. The way he buries everything underneath discipline and routine and hockey because those are the only things he fully understands.
And maybe that’s why I keep feeling this weird ache in my chest around him lately.
I think Cade feels things very deeply. I just don’t think anybody ever taught him what to do with those feelings once they existed. So instead he controls them. Restrains them. Locks them down so tightly they only slip through in tiny moments before he pulls himself back together again.
Like tonight and the way his breathing changed when he touched my wrist. Like the way his eyes kept dropping to my mouth before he physically stepped away from me like distance was the only thing keeping him under control.
The chemistry between us is becoming impossible to ignore now. It’s in everything. Every glance. Every joke. Every accidental touch. Every moment where the room suddenly feels too quiet because both of us are clearly thinking the same thing and trying very hard not to act on it.
At the rate things are going, one of us is eventually going to slip.
And honestly?
I’m starting to worry it might be me.
I closed the laptop then showered quickly in cold water as my brain replayed every second in his closet on repeat. I was in so deep and I had no excuse because I kept looking back as Cade put it.
Especially because I knew better than this.
I curled beneath my blankets still wearing one of Cade’s hoodies while rain tapped softly against my windows and cold air drifted through the cracked opening beside my bed when my phone buzzed.
CADE: I’ll pick you up at 11 tomorrow
I smiled instantly despite myself.
BLISS: Come at 10 instead
CADE: You didn’t text me when you got home
I ignored that, not because I meant to disregard it—but because my brain has been in over drive for the last hour or so.
ME: I need time to prep you for tomorrow’s BBQ
CADE: that sounds mildly threatening
ME: You have no idea
The stupid butterflies hit immediately.
That was the problem with texting someone you were wildly attracted to. Everything became loaded. Every pause. Every typing bubble. Every stupid little sentence suddenly felt dangerous because there was no voice or expression to soften anything. Just words sitting there while your brain filled in the blanks however it wanted.
And goodness, my brain was doing the absolute most tonight when it came to Cade Mercer.
The conversation kept going after that.
CADE: what should I wear tomorrow? Is there a color for teams or what
ME: Normal clothes
CADE: that means nothing to me, Pip
ME: Jeans. T-shirt. It’s warm during the day but cold at night so bring a jacket
CADE: should I bring a hoodie for you too since you steal mine constantly or just keep stealing the ones with my scent on them
My stomach tightened instantly as heat crept onto my face. Because there was something weirdly intimate about wearing his clothes. About his cologne lingering in the fabric. About falling asleep wrapped in something that smelled like him.
Dangerous territory Bliss.
