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I chant that in my head as I try to calm my racing heart and breaths.
But when I turn the corner and lose sight of the door I just left—where I felt safe, where Mack is—the feeling intensifies and my fight or flight kicks in. Turning, I begin to run back to the clubhouse, not sure what I’m going to say when I get there, but anything is better than this fucked up feeling.
Even facing Mack Granger.
There’s the sound of feet behind me and it forces mine to move faster, but the next thing I know, my left foot gets caught on something and the ground is approaching in what feels like slow motion. I reach out to brace myself, my hands taking the brunt of the fall.
“Shit,” I cry out. “Damn it.”
As I try to scramble back to standing so I can keep moving, away from whoever is behind me, someone’s hands are on me and they’re pulling me up.
“I’ve got you.”
My adrenaline is still pumping and, initially, my body tells me to fight, but when I hear the husky voice in my ear it immediately calms me.
Mack murmurs, “You’re alright.”
Checking behind me, I see the coast is clear. No one is back there and I feel absolutely insane.
“I’m fine,” I repeat, still running the mantra through my head. “I thought I—”
“Fuck, you’re bleeding,” Mack says, holding my hands in his and inspecting the scuffed-up skin. “Let’s go back in and wash you up and then we’ll talk.”
His gaze darts down the corridor before he ushers me back inside the clubhouse and straight to one of the trainers' offices.
Gently, he takes my injured hand and lays it in my lap, palm up. After inspecting the scrape, he grabs a few items from a cabinet before cleaning it. When he goes in with the disinfectant, I suck in a breath from the sting.
Mack pauses. “You okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.
Glancing up, I see a pained look on his face, like he can’t bear seeing me injured.
I nod, taking a deep breath. “It’s okay, just burned a little.”
He goes back to meticulously tending to my hand. When it’s bandaged, his thumb sweeps across the exposed skin on my wrist and my pulse races.
Just when I think he’s going to step back, giving me back my space and breath, he lifts my hand to his mouth, placing a quick kiss on the bandage, murmuring, “All better.”
I swallow, completely dumbstruck by not only the turn of events in the corridor, but the past few minutes with Mack. His actions stun me into silence, which is really hard to do, and it’s only broken by Mack’s low timber.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, eyes raking over my body. It’s not in a sexual way, but I still feel it—his eyes are like an extension of his large, strong hands and I feel them from my head to my toes.
“No,” I finally say, realizing he was waiting for a verbal reply. “Thank you.” My voice sounds shaky, and I still feel like I’ve been running a race. My heart is pounding, but I’m not sure if all of that is from my scare or Mack, both have me on edge and my body is trembling as Mack leans in.
Placing both of those large, strong hands on either side of me where I’m perched on a table, he locks his gaze on mine. “Now, you mind telling me what happened out there?”
I swallow, feeling absolutely wrecked, but knowing I need to pull it together.
“My, uh, my heel got stuck,” I say, hoping that does the trick and I can thank him one last time for his medical care and be on my way.
Mack nods, his dark brown eyes still locked on mine. “Uh-huh. Did you forget something?”
“What?” I ask, confused by his question.
“You were headed back to the clubhouse. Thought maybe you forgot something.”
I swallow again, still trying to will my body to relax. “Oh, yeah… I thought I forgot my, uh, pen.” To keep up the lie and to break the hold he has on me, I begin to dig through my bag. “But it’s right here,” I say, holding it in the air as proof and trying to pull off a self-deprecating laugh. “I guess I just didn’t see it. It’s my favorite one… you know how that is. I know you baseball players have your superstitions. We reporters do too, and you just can’t lose a lucky pen…”
My words trail off as I realize Mack is still staring at me and not moving a damn muscle.
