Caged (Gold Hockey #11) - Elise Faber Page 0,71

goes to those who can grab on to their happy.” A flash of a smile, before her face went serious. “Because when you love someone, when you stop being afraid and just go for it then . . .” She released a breath. “It’s like that, as simple as breathing, but you finally feel like your lungs can work fully. You can be yourself without fear, without being so locked down that you’re not open to new experiences. You can be . . . happy.”

Dani ran her thumb lightly back and forth along the space bar on her laptop, not hard enough to depress the key, just enough to feel the warmed plastic slide along her skin. “You make it sound easy.”

Fanny pressed her thumb down on the key. “It is easy. As easy as striking a key,” she said, returning her hand to her lap, “and it’s also the hardest thing you’ll ever do.”

“Is that what your experience was like with love?”

Fanny smiled sadly. “That’s a story for another time, preferably when I’ve had an entire pitcher of daiquiris.”

“I’m sorry, Fan.” Her eyes went to the single space on the blank document, the cursor blinking to its right. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

“I’m not.” She swallowed. “Now, I have it on good authority that a certain sexy, bearded forward is . . .” She named a location that wasn’t too far away.

No fear.

Just rightness.

“Excuse me,” Dani said, pushing up out of her chair and moving to the door. “I need to go to him . . .”

“Dani?” Fanny called just as her fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the doorknob.

She stopped.

“For the record, no one is allowed to tell you how to feel. Not even me and my pushy self,” Fanny said with a smile. “And definitely not those asshole inner voices. Just . . . throw in some mental earplugs and listen to your heart. That will always give you the strength to make the right decision.” Fanny went to the door, warm brown eyes staring into hers, turned the knob, and opened it wide. “You got this.” A wink. “Plus, love and the power of the Gold are on your side.”

Dani released a long, slow breath and nodded.

Fanny smiled approvingly. “It’s just that easy, babe.” A beat. “Now, go on and tell that man what he means to you.”

Dani slipped into the hall, moving toward the place Fanny had mentioned, knowing there were a million other post-game things she should be doing, and number one of those was that she shouldn’t be walking out of the office she used while at this arena. She should be labeling and splicing and loading content onto devices, emailing it out to players and coaches so they had it before they could even think about wanting it. But tonight, as she took that first step, as she strode down the hall and passed the tunnel that led to the arena, the cool air of the ice hitting her skin, she paused and watched the men and women walk across the rink, repairing it, prepping it for the next game.

And she found peace . . . and courage.

Ethan could run, but she’d find him.

He could avoid her, but she wouldn’t stop showing Ethan she loved him.

So, yes, there was courage inside her.

Instead of pain and fear, anxiety and insecurity. Those sharp spikes that had lived inside her for so long, eased by Ethan but still hiding in the background, threatening, waiting, making it so she had to breathe carefully and move cautiously, lest she do either wrong and jab herself . . . they’d retreated, disappearing into the ether.

Permanently.

Because she loved Ethan.

She turned away from the rink, and with that simple thought on her mind, in a sort of perfect moment of symmetry, she spotted Ethan.

Dani watched as he, still in the bottom half of his gear, his strong chest and arms on display with a tight black undershirt, smiled and fist-bumped a little girl who was maybe seven, the Gold jersey she wore engulfing her from her neck nearly down to her toes. After they spoke for a few minutes, he gently reached for the little one, those hands giant on tiny shoulders as he spun her so he could use the marker her mom held out to sign his name.

That done, he handed the pen back, and they talked for a little while longer. But he didn’t seem to be in any rush, even though he had to be