Caged (Gold Hockey #11) - Elise Faber Page 0,9

in her head. It was a sentiment that was probably unforgivably rude, given he’d been nothing but nice and they worked together.

Except for the fact that he asked you out! her inner schoolgirl said. You don’t want to make him mad and then he’ll turn on you, he’ll turn everyone on you.

But this wasn’t high school.

She didn’t have to deal with asshole teenagers.

The team was a family, and even if it was just a family she existed on at the barest fringes—because she wasn’t capable of more than that—she was still a part of that family.

They hadn’t turned on her.

Yet, her inner cynic said.

He fell quiet at her question. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked, after a moment.

Her car was just a few feet away, and she wouldn’t even have to take out her keys. She could just yank at the handle, start her up, and then GTFO.

But the careful way he spoke to her made something inside Dani snap.

People always, always treated her like she was weak, like a sharp word might make her cower. So yes, she may be shy and quiet in equal measures, but she wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t breakable.

That had been proven over and over.

So that careful, don’t-startle-the-frightened-beast-in-front-of-him tone made her lose her shit.

As in lose her shit.

She whirled on him, her backpack jumping off her spine and dropping like a pair of ineffective wings. But she hardly noticed the heavy contents. She was too busy being pissed.

“I am not a piece of china to be treated with care,” she snapped, poking her finger into his chest. “I am not delicate or fragile or breakable.” Each adjective was paired with a poke to his chest—that yummy chest, and the fact that she noticed its yumminess in any form or fashion even while pissed made her even more furious. “I’m quiet.” She shook her head. “Yes, sometimes I’m really fucking awkward and shy, but I’m not some crystal vase you have to worry about shattering, and furthermore—”

He captured her finger, held it in that big warm hand. “First,” he said, his voice silken. “Yes, you deserve to be treated with care.” Thunderclouds in his eyes. “You’re a good human being, so you always deserve to be treated with care.”

Her breath caught.

“Second, I like you shy,” he said. “I like you quiet. I like you however the fuck you want to be. So what if you’re not crossing verbal swords in the locker room with Max? You’re smart as hell, you’re funny, even if that sense of humor isn’t as loud as other people’s.”

More breath-catching, more words stuck in the back of her throat. More—

“Third.” His voice was velvet again, brushing along her exposed skin and making her shiver. “Third,” he said, “is the most important one.”

“Why?” she whispered, when he didn’t expound on that final reason.

His fingers slipped from hers, shifted up to encircle her wrist, brushing along the sensitive skin on the inside of it and tracing more of those delicate patterns that threatened to melt her into a puddle of goo. Well . . . of that and curiosity.

“It’s the most important because . . .”

She leaned forward slightly, anxious to hear the answer.

“Another time.”

He dropped her hand, and she was despising the loss of that warmth when he stepped around her, opened her car door. Was gaping at his response when he bent—giving her a glorious view of his slacks tightening over that fine ass—to set her backpack in the passenger’s seat.

He straightened, brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek.

Then he nudged her toward her car. “Goodnight, Dani,” he murmured.

She blinked, lips parting, but . . . he was gone.

And she was left wondering—and cursing her curiosity—about reason number three.

Chapter Four

Ethan

He’d slept like shit the night before.

Mostly because he’d been dreaming about Dani naked in her bathtub, a glass of wine in one hand, a slice of pizza in the other . . . and also, he’d dreamed about Dani naked.

Glorious and naked and naked.

Which explained the reason for his cock threatening to crack in half that morning.

He had a great imagination.

Some might even say it was stellar.

Because he could picture every curve, imagine how soft her skin would feel when he kissed his way across it. He’d bet it would be even softer than that on the inside of her wrist, and that had felt like silk beneath his rough-ass fingers.

However, none of his imaginings were helping his control.

Or making his morning wood go away.

Groaning as he got