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But it hurt even more, doubting her. The fear that she’d really become sexually involved with him because of the clause was always there, hovering in the back of his mind. He hated it. That maybe she had faked their relationship the entire time…

He flat-out couldn’t go there. No way could it have been true. She cared for him. He knew it.

So why wouldn’t she talk to him? See him?

It had been more than a week since he’d last seen her. The very next day, he’d gone out on the field to the jeers and boos from his own damn fans and got his ass royally kicked. Fucking Craig Wallace had gloated for days after the Hawks’ spectacular loss to the Raiders.

Closing his eyes, Jared breathed deeply. He couldn’t stand thinking about that game, the worst in recent memory. Hell, that entire weekend would go down as the worst two days of his life.

He’d been on top of the world that fateful morning. With Sheridan in his arms, naked and willing,

whispering how he was falling for her. Coming close to full on saying he was in love with her. He’d been about to risk it all. Everything for a woman, something he would’ve never thought he’d do.

“Someone’s here to see you.” Walsh reappeared, standing in front of him.

Jared blinked. “Who?”

“She’s out there.” Walsh jerked his thumb toward the locker room’s open doorway. “Don’t take too long.”

“If it’s a reporter, I’ll kill you.” Jared shook his head. “I won’t talk to them.”

“It’s not a damn reporter. Like I’d do that to you. And hey, take your helmet. You need to get out on the field soon and I want you ready.” Walsh stalked off.

Grabbing his helmet, Jared shut his locker and headed toward the door, nervousness gnawing at his gut. Who the hell could be out there wanting to see him? A woman, he knew that. No way could it be Sheridan. She wouldn’t come to a game, not now, even though the media attention had died down some. But she’d hardly shown her face since everything went public. She was in hiding.

Even from him.

He emerged into the darkened hallway, his footsteps echoing. She stood to the left, fully decked out in Hawks gear. She wore a Hawks hat, her hair in a low ponytail pulled through the back of it. A long sleeved gray T-shirt with San Jose Hawks written down the arm with an official jersey as the second layer, his number prominent on her chest.

“Sheridan,” he whispered, emotion clogging his throat. The pure joy that swept over him at seeing her was almost overwhelming. “Wh—what are you doing here?”

She stepped closer, her scent washing over him, fragrant and sweet. She smiled, the sight of it sending a zap straight to his heart and he wanted to touch her. Wanted to pull her into him and never let her go.

But he remained standing there, his helmet clutched in his hand, decked out in full uniform, all the layers and pads he wore working as walls between them.

“I heard you needed some encouragement.” Reaching out toward him, she rested her hand on his chest. He wished she touched his bare skin. “You look good, Jared.”

“You do, too.” He smiled. He couldn’t help it, having her stand there in front of him. The first real smile he’d worn in days. His anger, his worry, his doubt slowly ebbed away. “Wearing my jersey, I see.”

“Of course.” Her smile brightened.

Pausing, he studied her. Let his gaze rove all over her beautiful face, drinking her in, memorizing her features. After spending so much time with her, then to have her vanish, it felt like an eternity since he last saw her. “You going to watch the game?”

“I am. I came to watch you.” Stepping in closer, she stood on tiptoe, braced her hands on his chest and kissed him lightly. He felt the too-brief touch of her soft lips to the very depths of his soul. “Good luck, husband,” she murmured.

He slipped an arm around her, holding her to him, not wanting to let her go. “You came to see me, and I should’ve been the one to come to you first.”

She touched him, like she couldn’t help herself. Trailing her fingers down his cheek, she pressed her finger to his bottom lip. He wanted to bite it. “Walsh asked me to come.”

Disappointment settled over him. He’d turned into a sympathy case. “So you did it for him.”

“I came here for you. He told me you needed me.” She pressed her lips together. “And when he said that, he made me realize I—I needed to see you, too. Everything that’s happened between us, it was real for me, Jared.”

His heart lightened, and didn’t feel so much like a dead, leaden weight any longer. “We need to talk.”

She nodded slowly, her finger still tracing the curve of his lower lip. “Maybe we could after the game?”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes when she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, bulk and all. He hugged her back. “I’ve missed you.”


Tags: Karen Erickson Game for It Romance