Page 58 of Penalty Box

“Look, you said we couldn’t sleep together,” I whispered. “Not that talking was off the table. Or helping.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Cass.” My tone was all the explanation needed.

She held my gaze a second too long, then gave a small nod. “Okay. Thanks.”

I got behind the machine and braced a shoulder. She climbed into the seat again, and between the two of us, we got it moving. Slow and steady. As the nose passed the curtain line, she turned to look at me. The moment stilled. No reporters, no kids. Just her and me and the scrape of old wheels on concrete.

She climbed down once we were clear, and dusted her hands on her thighs. Nervous, but acting like she wasn’t.

“You doing okay?” She didn’t look at me when she asked.

I didn’t answer right away. Her arms stayed folded like she didn’t know what to do with them. Like if she didn’t keep them closed like that, she might be tempted to touch me.

“I’m fine.”

Cass tilted her head, unconvinced. “You don’t have to be, you know.”

“No?” My mouth twitched. “Pretty sure you made that call.”

The quiet stretched, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. I saw her throat move as she swallowed. I could still smell her on me, and wanted to reinforce it with sweat and passion like we did last night.

But I could tell that wasn’t where she was at.

“I just want you to know,” I said, keeping my voice down. The place was packed, but there was no telling who’d overhear. “I’m here. That doesn’t change because we crossed a line. No funny business, either. Just me, helping you clear a beat up Zamboni, or whatever.”

Her eyes met mine again. There was a soft ache in them I didn’t know what to do with. It felt almost like she was dealing with the same thing as me. Like she also wished things were different.

“Calder! You’re up for the wrap shots!”

I waved Bob off, then looked back to Cass with a silent apology.

“Go,” she said.

“But—”

“You’re right.” She did another quick scan to make sure we were alone. “We’re grown ups. We hooked up, and that was it. No need to make things weird. Go do your thing, superstar.”

I sighed, and did as I was told. But right before I hit the ice, I looked back one more time.

Because no matter what she said, the look on her face told me we weren’t done. We could pretend as hard as we wanted that it was nothing, but we both knew it was the opposite of that.

What happened at her place couldn’t just be a one-time thing.

*

The garage was quiet except for the sound of a socket wrench clinking against the concrete and the low hum of my favorite country playlist streaming from my phone. I was elbow deep in the guts of my Ford. Thinking time. I didn’t really know whatI was doing, but didn’t have the energy to go back inside and pretend I was okay in front of Hunter.

Tires crunched on the asphalt out front, and I glanced out from under the hood.

Cass stepped out of her car, all ripped jeans and guarded expression. The same one she’d worn all day. A few strands of hair had slipped loose from her ponytail, framing her flushed cheeks.

I straightened slowly, wiping my hands on a rag that had seen better days.

“Didn’t think I rated a visit.”

She shrugged like it was nothing, her showing up here like this. “Grown ups get to feel sorry for each other. Platonically.”