Page 64 of Lucky Laces

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“Don’t,” Hudson says quietly.

I slant my eyes at Doc, who’s still working on Huddy’s leg but hasn’t missed the whole hand-on-hand action and is now doing that working while blatantly observing us.

Damn.

This shit will hit the back office.

And then the gossip will sail right into to the locker room.

And how the fuck am I supposed to look at the guys, toleadthe guys when I’m boning one of the players?

“Don’t,” Hudson says again, even softer.

But I know he’s seen that too.

Know he knows that whatever this is between us is a bomb ready to explode and fuck up both our lives.

I scowl.

His fingers lace through mine then squeeze lightly.

A silent “Don’t,”this time.

My scowl deepens, then he hisses again, a bead of sweat forming on his temple.

More guilt adding itself to the pile on my shoulders.

Maybe that’s why I don’t pull my hand away.

Maybe that’s why I hold on a little tighter.

Or maybe…it’s that I just don’t want to let go.

Of him.

Of this fantasy.

Of—

Hudson grunts.

“Sorry,” Doc says.“But that should be the last one.”

I wipe the bead of sweat off Huddy’s temple, smothering the urge to lift my thumb to my mouth, to taste the salt and spice of him.Instead, I ask, “Is it supposed to hurt this much?”

“It is when dumb fucks decide they don’t want pain injections.”

My mouth falls open and I turn to Hudson.“Are you seriously that stubborn or just a fucking idiot?”

Doc snorts.

I glare at him.“You should have given him an injection anyway.”

Doc lifts his gloved hands in surrender, surgical clamp thingie in one hand, a wicked looking needle in the other.“I’ve dealt with stubborn ass hockey players enough to know to pick my battles carefully”—a pointed look—“plus, I’m done.”

I shift my glare to Hudson.“You ripped your stitches!”

“Only two of them.”

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