Page 62 of Body Check

twenty-two

. . .

Amelia

Being in a secret relationship with someone you work with is surprisingly difficult. Jason is around all the time. Every time I turn around, he’s watching me. In the lounge, in the equipment bay, in the medical suites. And as it turns out… I like being watched. Even if my clothes are on.

True to his word, he’s been seeking out Zac and Graham to work on his knee. I haven’t had to deal with him in a professional capacity since that day in Ottawa.

On the road, we’re careful to keep our distance, but when we’re in Boston, I spend the night at his place. We keep the blinds closed, thank you very much.

Ty and Brandon guessed I’m seeing someone, but they haven’t asked, so I haven’t told them any lies. Jason and I agreed that nobody can find out about us. Not yet. Not while we’re still so new.

Technically, there are ways around the non-fraternization policy—Sven and Vanessa are proof—but I’m not ready to officially declare our fledgling relationship for public gossip. And if there’s one thing I learned about hockey players, it’s that they love to gossip.

Which makes it difficult to spend any time together, because other players are always dropping by Jason’s apartment to chat or hang out.

The first time he asked me to hide in his bedroom, I was pissed. But the more I thought about it, if someone found me in his place, it would only invite questions I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to outright lie. But I don’t want to volunteer the information, either.

But tonight—it’s just for us.

He ordered dinner from my favorite restaurant, opened a bottle of wine, and lit some candles. Under the table, his feet tangle with mine as we eat our chicken Marsala and chat about our day. Snow is falling, and up here on the nineteenth floor, it’s the perfect date night in.

Until someone bangs on the door.

Jason sighs, looking at me with regret on his face. “Do you mind?”

Truthfully, I do mind. But not enough to force the issue. Not with the potential of losing my job hanging over my head.

I escape to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

“What is it?” I hear Jason say, a hint of steel in his voice. “This isn’t a good time.”

“What’s up with you?” Logan says. “Oh, shit. Are you on a date?”

“Shut up,” Jason says. “What’s going on?”

“Who is she?”

“Not talking about it.” There’s a growl in his tone that would stop a grizzly bear in its tracks.

But Logan isn’t a grizzly bear. He’s an oblivious hockey player.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“It’s new,” Jason clips out. “Why are you here?”

Logan sighs. “You said… you said I could talk to you. But⁠—”

My boyfriend sighs. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

“Nah. You have company. I’ll just… I don’t know. Wallow in my misery.”

With anyone else, it would be a cutting barb, but Logan isn’t being snarky; he genuinely means it.

“Talk to MacGregor,” Jason says. “Maybe he’ll…”

“Punch me in the face, and then ask to be traded to keep his sister safe from me?” Logan’s laugh is hollow. “Yeah, no thanks.”