Caged (Gold Hockey #11) - Elise Faber Page 0,63

fucked up.”

“Ah,” she said again. “So, I need to destroy you.”

He groaned, rested his head in his hands.

She sighed, scooping up his papers and books then sitting down in the seat next to him.

“You know I had a system for that, right?” he muttered.

“I know you had a mess.” She opened the tray table in front of her, began stacking and organizing the texts in a way that he knew would make sense—just based on her totally organized system of drills both on and off ice, plus keeping track of players’ milestones and goals. Fanny was far better suited for balancing a career and degree than he was. “There, now,” she said, straightening the stack and turning toward him. “All in order. Now tell me, Dani and you, what’s up?”

He made a face. “I told you. I messed up.”

“How?” She pointed at said face. “And how badly?”

“Badly.” Her expression clouded, and deliberately he dropped his eyes back down to his notebook, ignoring the steady brown gaze trying to force the rest out of him. He’d dealt with Fanny enough on the ice to know that she was a fucking force to be reckoned with once she picked at the thread of something. On the ice for him, it had been his backward crossovers, specifically him not putting weight on the proper edge on his left foot. She’d pulled that out of nowhere, had picked and prodded and drilled the shit out of him until he’d fixed that bad habit. It had taken the entire fucking summer, but he’d managed, thanks to this woman’s bulldog tendencies.

And now, she was focused on Dani. On him and Dani.

Things were off. He was moping. Dani was hurt, and Fanny had seen that pain. Which meant it wouldn’t be long until the rest of the team would notice.

He’d be getting wooing advice from Kevin, who’d managed to snare PR-Rebecca. Gabe, who was the Gold’s head trainer and with Nutritionist Rebecca and really good at asking for forgiveness, would give him a multitude of tips, all while prescribing uncomfortable TENS therapy and/or a pressure point massage as punishment for Ethan’s wrongdoings. And Brit would be all over it, enlisting Max and Blue and Coop to enact revenge.

That wasn’t even including Blane, Stefan—their former captain and Brit’s hubby, Mike, Liam, and Logan.

They’d all have an opinion over his mistakes, would drag him over the coals with one breath, and with the next, they’d want to help him fix his fuck up.

It would be awful.

It would be fucking great.

Because they were family, and they cared.

Ethan just . . . he already had put enough pressure on his own shoulders to try to fix things with Dani. The full-court press of the entire team would probably work against him, make it even harder.

Either that or he was worried that she really didn’t love him, wouldn’t ever find her way there, and she was just looking for some fun, exploring her attraction to a semi-good-looking guy with a decent job, some smarts, and a nice body. Maybe she didn’t actually like what was beneath the surface.

Maybe she didn’t see the same future he did.

And perhaps that was the biggest mindfuck of all. Because he wasn’t the type of man to back down from what he wanted.

The degree was difficult with his job and travel. He was making it happen. It might have taken longer than planned, but he’d done it. His parents didn’t want him to help them when his father had been let go from his job a few years back. He’d paid off their house, refused to accept any repayment when they’d sold it after his parents had both gotten jobs at a different university. He wasn’t the most talented guy in the league (not by a long shot). But he’d put his fucking head down and worked to make a place for himself on the special teams. He’d found a way to be valuable and content without trying to be a superstar—not that he had the skill for it.

And that wasn’t self-deprecation.

It was reality.

So he was living the fucking dream, feeling fulfilled in his work, in his life . . . well, in most parts of his life.

Because he couldn’t make Dani love him. No matter how much he wanted her to.

“Earth to Ethan,” Fanny said lightly.

“I’m working,” he muttered, squeezing his pen.

“Thinking about Dani. Thinking about how to fix your fuck up.”

“Fanny,” he warned.

“Ethan,” she warned back.

He sighed. “I love her,” he said. “But she doesn’t