Caged (Gold Hockey #11) - Elise Faber Page 0,60

worked without actually drawing oxygen into her bloodstream.

He loved her.

Fucking hell.

That . . . that . . . Her fingers scrambled for the lock, flicking it open, yanking the door wide. She stumbled out . . . right into Ethan.

Oh, fuck.

She wasn’t ready for this.

She couldn’t do this right now. She needed to have a panic attack in peace, needed to get to her room, to shove down all the old emotions of unworthiness that had burst forth at his words. It was just . . . too much and—

A soft hand on her back, rubbing up and down. “In and out,” Ethan murmured. “In and out. That’s it. You’ve got this.”

Eventually, the edges of black receded, and she came back into herself in the hall, Ethan having tucked her close, his body wrapped tightly around hers. “You can’t love me,” she whispered. “You can’t, you just can’t.”

His face gentled. “Except I do. I love you, Dani. Of course, I’d expected to tell you in a romantic setting, without the side of toilet. But I do.” He cupped her cheek. “I love you.”

She shook her head.

“Yes, baby. I do.”

Her pulse thundered in her veins, her heart twisting this way and that. She needed a moment. She needed to think, to freak out, and then to recenter. To tell this man she loved him too.

“I love you, Dani,” he murmured.

She pushed against his chest until he released her, staggering to her feet, shoving the hair out of her face. “I need—” She sucked in a breath. “I just need some time to—”

He rose with her, hands coming to her shoulders, eyes bright. “You don’t need time. You need to accept that I love you.” He jostled her lightly, making her head shake. “You have to—”

Her lungs went tight again.

The black crept back in.

“Just a second,” she breathed, slipping out of his hold. “Ethan, this is so much. Too much. I need to think. I need to—”

Come to terms with the fact that her entire life had shifted on its axis again.

She loved the man, loved him back so intensely, but she couldn’t muster the words out of her mouth. Instead, she scrambled for air, her throat swelling, her muscles spasming.

He loved her.

She loved him.

And . . . she was going to fuck it up. Or he’d realize that he wanted something else, deserved something more. The image of Roxanne burst to life in her mind, and for all she’d worked to exorcise those demons, to embrace her self-worth, to remember that Ethan had pursued her, had showed her over and over again that he chose her . . . she just . . . well, she was just too fucking panicked for something like logic to be effective.

He took a step toward her.

She skittered back. “Stop.”

Hurt edged into his expression. “Dani?”

“I can’t.” A sharp shake of her head. “I just . . . I can’t.” More time. Space to think. A moment to clear this out, to push back the panic and to come back into herself. Then she could find the words, tell this man—

“You don’t love me?”

She shook her head again.

Ethan paled, and she watched in horror as his hand lifted, pressing to his chest, to the spot over his heart, as though the organ inside ached.

Pain splintered through her.

He staggered back.

She stepped forward, realizing that he’d thought the shake was in answer to his question. That wasn’t what she’d intended, not at all. She’d just been trying to clear her head. To stop the fucking tornado in her mind.

“Ethan.”

He’d been staring at his feet, but the sound of his name on her tongue had him looking up. “It’s okay, Dani.”

There was a note of resignation in his tone.

One that had the panic in her disappearing in an instant.

As though he’d expected this all along.

“That’s not what I meant—”

He turned and disappeared down the hall.

Horror froze her in place for a long moment then she hurried after him. Because fuck the panic, fuck having to think.

She needed to tell Ethan she loved him.

But when she made it out to the bar, it was to find that Ethan and his parents were gone. She spun in a circle, searching, and then caught a flash of him, walking toward the front doors of the hotel.

All but running through the lobby, she snagged his arm just before he would have pushed out.

“Ethan,” she began.

Constance turned. “Oh, there you are, honey. Ethan said you’d gone up to bed.” She stepped forward, pulled Dani