Page 71 of Daring the Hockey Player

I shove those thoughts aside as I open up the front door and step inside.

Amber is balancing on her tiptoes, standing on the kitchen counter with a rag as she wipes the ceiling clean. The problem is that the whipped cream isn't only over the kitchen counter. It's also in the middle of the kitchen on the ceiling, and she can't reach that from her position. She grabs the rag and whips it across the ceiling while holding the edge, trying to smack the whipped cream clean.

I never realized how short she is, and it's quite endearing.

I stalk across the kitchen. "Didn't I tell you to leave it until I get back?"

She reaches a little too far forward, losing her balance as I catch her on her way down, holding her in my arms, not letting her go.

Amber gasps. The sweet, innocent sound that spills past her lips almost sounds sexual, although I know it isn’t meant to be—the gasp of shock and fear as she finds herself falling, but luckily, I'm right there to catch her. Since she didn't take much of a running leap, there is not enough force for her to knock me back.

I'm steady on my feet, my arms around her waist, and I don’t let go.

“Sorry,” she says, quick to apologize. Her arms are wrapped around my neck, and I should put her feet down on the floor, but I’m keeping her pressed against me, enjoying the intimate moment between us.

I want to steal every second that I can, and it’ll never feel like enough.

She tilts her head down as I have her nestled between me and the counter. I prop her on the edge and, with one hand, push her hair out of her face.

I crave her more than the air that I breathe.

She is the night sky, speckled with stars.

Brilliant and beautiful.

She doesn’t even have the faintest idea of what she already means to me. It's not about lust or sex. The desire is already there. It's been there since the moment I first laid eyes on her. The problem is bigger than a small crush or a moment of longing shared between two friends.

I think that I'm falling in love with her.

I want to kiss her. Taste her. Enrapture her lips with mine and carry her into my bedroom. I still smell her scent on my bed. The first night that she stayed over, it lingered for days until I was forced to wash my sheets.

Now her scent is everywhere. The lavender and lilac carry through the house. It's nestled in my shirt from her proximity, on my pillow from when she took a nap in my bed when I cleaned out the guestroom, and it continues to taunt me, like an addiction that I cannot rid myself of, nor do I want to.

She is slowly becoming an obsession. Spending time with her. Stealing a touch without it being construed as something more because it can't be more.

We're roommates. Friends.

I can't risk it with her.

But inside, I'm screaming for her to kiss me, to let me undress her, take her to bed, and show her what it's like to be worshipped and ravished. If only she'd ask me again to be her first, to dare me to show her what it's like to kiss, to touch, to explore one another, I don't think that I could say no.

There's a wall that I need to put up to protect her and myself. It stands brick by brick, the mortar crumbling with every second that we stare into each other's gaze, and I know she feels exactly the same way.

Amber smiles and leans her forehead against mine. She opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, a dollop of whipped cream falls from the ceiling right onto my nose.

"I think I missed a spot," she quips.

Amber reaches out with her hand for my face, and I grab her wrist, stopping her. With my grip around her wrist, she still manages to tap my nose with her index finger, getting the white fluff off my face.

Before I know it, she's putting her finger into my mouth, between my lips, and I'm sucking off the whipped cream, curling my tongue around her finger, wishing it were her lips and mouth on mine.

Her phone buzzes from the counter behind her, and I step back as she hops down from the countertop and hurries around the other side to reach for it. She glances at the text and then at me as I stare at her, the counter between us making us feel miles apart. "Charlotte made it home safe."

I can't believe her friend just cock blocked me from halfway across town.

NINETEEN

AMBER