I pressed my thumb against the button, initiating another impact run for the helmet.
Again and again.
The sound of the whirling robotics, the hydraulics, the thwack of the helmet as it hit its mark over and over again filled my brain enough to hush it for the moment. The relief from my own inner voice was so welcome I closed my eyes.
“Falling asleep on the job?” Nathan’s voice jolted me out of my momentary reprieve, and I straightened at the sight of him.
Damn, he looked good.
Freshly showered, his hair still damp, and the black sweater he wore hugged each of his muscles like a glove.
The questioning, accusing look in his eyes? Not as fun to look at.
“I guess you’d be tired,” he continued, closing the door to my lab behind him. “Running can take it out of a person, even if they’re used to it.”
I sucked in a sharp breath…but fair enough, I’d deserved that.
“Look, Nathan—”
“Oh, God,” he said, raising his hand to stop me. “Nothing good ever comes after those two words.” He stalked across the lab, not to me, but toward the machine where the helmet rested against its impact site. “Is there a point to how many times you’ve crashed this thing, or did four nights in the same bed just put you in that bad a mood.”
I bit back my smile, the tension easing in my chest. I hurried over to the machine and disconnected the helmet.
“Tell me what you see,” I said, handing it to him, careful not to graze my fingers over his.
He held my gaze for a few moments before flipping the helmet this way and that, inspecting the exterior before moving to the interior. He cocked a brow at me, pointing to the interior impact site.
“Is there a reason this is blue?”
“Yes.” I moved closer to him, as close as I dared, the worry in me coiling like a spring.
How the hell was I supposed to act around him now?
Now that I knew what he could do to me. What we could do together. What we were together and what we may turn into. The last four days had been a blur of hockey and Nathan claiming me so much I believed his scent was permanently embedded in my skin.
“This,” I said, forcing the words out. “Is the new foam I’ve been experimenting with. The coloring indicates the foam is no longer as strong as it was when brand new. It lets the wearer know when there have been so many impacts that it’ll no longer be effective.”
“Damn,” he said. His fingers grazed the blue spot, his eyes distant like he was somewhere else entirely.
Likely seven years in his past.
I swallowed hard.
“I’m never surprised by how much you surprise me, butterfly,” he said, gently handing me back the helmet.
I set it on my metal table, taking up a firm lean against it when all I wanted to do was span the distance between us and make it nonexistent.
“I didn’t run,” I blurted out when he seemed content to stand there and simply watch me forever.
“No?” He shifted closer, so only a few inches separated us.
“Okay, I ran,” I said, folding under that damn gaze of his. He had the nerve to smirk, but there was genuine worry in his eyes. “It’s what I do,” I said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why. I’m not normal. You know that. You know me.”
“I do,” he said. “That still doesn’t explain why you snuck off the second you’d been handed your bag off the plane.”
“I didn’t sneak—”
He eyed me again, and I huffed.
“Fine. Whatever. You’re right.”
Something clicked behind his eyes, a sadness behind the wall of armor. “Glad we got that out of the way then.” He turned—to leave or pace the lab or sprint away from me, I didn’t know—but the small action, the sight of his back, it broke something in me.
“Nathan, please,” I said, reaching for his arm, my heart flaring at the simple touch. “Please. I…I…” I sighed when he turned, allowing me to pull him closer. “I’m terrified of this.”
“You think I’m not?” His voice was low, strained.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Do you get scared? Isn’t this all normal for you? A Shark? I didn’t even realize I was in your league until recently and I’m still curious as to how I got there, and then there is—”
“Harper,” he cut off my ramble, and I flashed him a grateful look. I was wound so tight words were spewing from my lips at a rapid pace. “It isn’t normal for me,” he continued. “I know some of the Sharks enjoy sleeping around—consensually and completely upfront about the casualness to it—and I’m not saying I haven’t been that guy before, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone. And I’ve never felt like this before.”