Checking It Twice

Chapter Two - Rowan

I know better than to look when the tunnel doors open.

I still do.

Hollis Reed steps into the arena like she owns the space—coffee in hand, shoulders squared, eyes already scanning like she’s preparing for impact. She’s dressed in black, all clean lines and quiet confidence, and for one stupid second my brain short-circuits.

So this is how it’s going to be.

She’s not the girl I remember from years ago—the one who used to sit in the stands with a book balanced on her knees, pretending she wasn’t watching the ice like it mattered. This version of Hollis is sharper. More self-contained. The kind of beautiful that doesn’t ask permission.

And she’s my teammate’s sister.

Off-limits doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I push off the boards before I can talk myself out of it, because ignoring her would be worse. Cowardly. Besides, Hollis Reed has never been someone you could pretend didn’t exist without consequences.

“Well,” I say, because my mouth has a death wish, “if it isn’t Reed.”

Her eyes snap to mine—cool, assessing, familiar in a way that hits too low and too fast.

“If it isn’t Beckett.”

Still sharp. Still dangerous.

She’s got her guard up already. I recognize it because I’ve spent years perfecting my own. I take a step closer without meaning to, then stop myself just short of crossing a line I already know too well.

This is Griffin’s sister.

This is my problem waiting to happen.

“You back for good?” I ask.

“I’m here for work,” she replies. “Don’t get excited.”

Too late.

I grin because it’s easier than admitting the truth. “You always did ruin my day.”

She laughs—quick, unwilling—and the sound lands like a hit I don’t see coming. It’s been too long. Way too long.

Her eyes narrow. “Pretty sure you had that covered.”

She’s not wrong. I’ve made a career out of complicating things.

“Griffin know you’re here yet?”

The temperature drops instantly. I wince internally. Should’ve known better.

“My brother doesn’t need a status update on my whereabouts,” she says, stepping back, reclaiming space like it’s instinct.

She’s good at that. Holding her line.

I lift my hands in surrender. “Just asking. You know how he is.”

I know exactly how he is. Disciplined. Territorial. Protective as hell. If Griffin so much as suspects I’m thinking about Hollis, he’ll shut it down—hard. And I won’t blame him.

She starts to turn away, and something in me balks at letting her go like this—guard high, walls up, pretending the past didn’t hum quietly between us.

“Hollis.”

She freezes.

So do I.

I don’t know why I say her name. Only that not saying it feels worse.

“What,” she says, not turning around.

For a second, I consider a dozen easy lines. Something charming. Something harmless. Something that keeps me safe.

Instead, I go honest.

“Welcome back,” I say. “The arena’s been… quieter.”

She stills completely. I can almost hear the moment she decides not to let that matter.

“Try not to miss me too much,” she replies, and then she’s gone—down the corridor, heels clicking like punctuation.

I watch until she disappears, chest tight, thoughts louder than the crowd warming up behind me.

I shouldn’t want her.

I shouldn’t notice her.

I definitely shouldn’t remember the way her mouth felt against mine all those years ago.

“Beckett.”

Griffin skates past, shoulder-checking me lightly as he goes. “You alive?”

“Yeah,” I lie, dragging my gaze back to the ice. “Just distracted.”

He grunts, satisfied enough, and moves on.

I’m not.

Because Hollis Reed is back in my life, standing right in the middle of everything I’ve worked for. And if history has taught me anything, it’s this—

Some things don’t stay buried.

And some mistakes?

You don’t make them because you’re careless.

You make them because part of you already knows exactly how they’ll feel.