Page 16 of Puck Me Back to Life

I have to consciously stop myself from staring. It's becoming a problem.

“Hey.”

Ash's eyebrows lift slightly. “Hey.”

For a second, neither of us says anything.

Then I gesture toward his hand. “Your knuckles look awful.”

He glances down. “Oh.”

A shrug. Like punching another professional athlete in the face until he loses a tooth is an everyday inconvenience.

“I've had worse.”

That somehow doesn't surprise me. My gaze lingers on the cuts.

Then I look back up. “Why did you do that?”

Ash studies me. “Do what?”

“You know what.”

A smile threatens at the corner of his mouth. Just enough to make something warm and dangerous stir low in my stomach.

“The fight?”

I nod.

Ash looks genuinely confused. Like, the answer should be obvious. “I told you I had your back.”

The simplicity of it catches me off guard. No dramatic speech or grand explanation. Just a statement of fact.

I told you I had your back. Therefore, I acted accordingly.

My throat tightens slightly because people don't do things like that for me anymore. Not since William. Maybe not even before William.

“I didn't need you to do that.” The words sound weak even to me.

Ash snorts. “Sure.”

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His gaze fixes on mine.

Steady.

Unwavering.

“You got driven into the boards.”

The memory flashes briefly through my head.

The impact.

The glass rattling.

The crowd reacting.