Caged (Gold Hockey Book 11) by Elise Faber (romantic love story reading TXT) 📕

called like to like, and . . . she fucking hated it.

She spun into him, halting him in his tracks, bringing their bodies flush against one another. They’d reached the top of the slope, and her eyes needed a moment to adjust, to see what was in his eyes.

More bristling.

“What’s that?” she asked, waving a hand at his face.

“What’s what?” he countered.

“That tone. That expression.” She cupped his cheeks, made easier since she was at the top of the incline and he was a foot behind her, the angle aligning their faces. “Do you think for one second that your parents aren’t proud of you? That you haven’t done something fucking incredible?”

He turned his head, kissed her palm. “I just shoot a puck at a net and get in an occasional fight on the ice. It’s nothing as important as the work they’re doing,” he said. “Nor even as important as yours. I’m a cog that can be replaced. An athlete with a shelf life, and that’s just fact. They’re discovering knowledge, helping others gain it. You’re aiding in the running of this big machine, helping dozens, if not more people be successful and have jobs and make a living.” He peeled her hands off, wove their fingers together. “Without me, they’d be fine. Without you, without others, they’d be lost.”

There was a lot to unpack there.

Starting with the fact that she’d never quite been able to articulate anything close to what he’d just said, even though she had felt the same way too many fucking times over the course of her life.

But it was funny.

She’d found herself growing a lot over the last days, identifying the painful memories, understanding their hold on her, finding the courage to begin taking baby steps forward. And now hearing that same note of pain in Ethan’s voice was like leaping backward, falling into a dark hole, hating that someone could feel that way about themselves.

And if she hated that he could feel that way, how had she lived for so freaking long feeling the same?

It was . . . enlightening.

Frustrating.

Infuriating.

Illuminating.

“You are a wonderful, smart, talented, lovely man. You are more than a cog in a machine. You’re . . . Ethan, and I feel so lucky to know you.”

His lips parted, a shuddering breath slipping out and coating her skin. “Dani,” he murmured, his tone almost pained.

“You see,” she whispered. “I was accosted outside my office by a man, who dropped my treasured tablets on the ground, and then again by him outside the library where he stole my books. And again in a hall where he stole my bags of rocks”—his mouth curved—“and that man, well . . . he’s pretty fucking amazing. He gave me the courage to peek at the memories I’d locked down, to release them and their hold on me. It was terrifying, letting go of that safety net.” She squeezed his hands. “But I found it wasn’t so scary when I understood that he’d be patiently waiting to catch me.”

Another of those breaths, stuttering and staccato, a big chest practically vibrating against her.

Then his hands wove into her hair, and he kissed her.

The man had a fucking glorious mouth, soft and plump, ringed by the short bristles of his beard. Rough and smooth, no caution in the way he held her, how he plundered her lips.

But eventually, they had to breathe, so she pulled back, reveling in the way he held her face in his calloused hands. “I told you that you could do anything that you put your mind to.”

“I’m starting to believe that.”

His forehead rested against hers for a heartbeat.

Then he took her hands again and tugged her forward. “Come on then. Our first date awaits.”

He spun her around, tugged her around the edge of the building . . .

And quite simply, she fell in love.

A small, round table sat near an opening in a plain white railing, the gap showing a staircase leading down to a gorgeous stone amphitheater. “It’s Red Rocks,” she whispered, as he led her to the table. “I’ve always wanted to come here for a concert.”

He tugged out her chair. “We’ll have to come back for one.”

When he pushed it in, lights turned on, shining up along the burnished rust-colored stone walls, soft music filling the space. It swept up those stairs like a thunderstorm, a low rumble that bounced along the rock, quivered through her abdomen, filling her with the gentle melody of one of her favorite pop songs.

“How did you know?” she whispered.

“I’ve seen you perk up when it comes on during warm-up.”

“How?” she asked again.

She shouldn’t even have been there, had been sneaking out because she was desperate to catch a glimpse of him while he’d skated. Instead, she should have been prepping for the game, not mooning over him.

He sat down across from her, took her hand. “How could I not?” A squeeze. “How could I not notice you?”

Dani melted into a puddle of goo.

Either that or she fell a little bit more in love with him.

Then he lifted the silver cover on the plate between them, and there was no doubt, she’d plummeted into love with this man.

Chapter Eighteen

Ethan

The Lyft deposited them outside the hotel lobby, and he felt a kind of peace he’d not experienced before as they walked inside and headed for the elevators.

He would have liked it better had they been going up to a room they shared, but for now, he rode the elevator to her floor, walked her to her door, and stole several more kisses.

She threaded her fingers into his belt loops, tugged him close. “Come inside.”

Ah, a statement that could be taken so many ways.

Alas, they were still riding First Date vibes, so he said goodnight.

Then went down to his room, jerked off, and fell headlong into sleep.

The knock on his door in the morning was unwelcome, but he stumbled to the peephole, stared through it . . . and suddenly, it was a lot