Page 91 of Daring the Hockey Player

I open her message, and a huge smile reaches my lips.

Dinner was delicious, all twelve meals.

I try not to laugh at her remark. I know she didn't eat everything, but that's her way of thanking me for it. There's a second text after the first one.

You really outdid yourself. At least now I can eat for the rest of the week. I promise I won't let it go to waste.

I shut the bathroom door and lean against it. I type away, texting her back.

Glad you came to your senses.

A smirk reaches my lips when I see three dots indicating that she's writing back. My heart jackhammers in my chest, waiting on her response. I thought working out at the gym and practicing on the ice would have tired my ass out. But when it comes to Amber, she makes me feel more alive than ever.

You didn't give me much of a choice.

I chuckle under my breath and flip on the bathroom fan. I strip down and slide open the glass shower door, turning on the spray.

You don't take orders very well.

I click send and then grimace, hoping that didn't come across as too harsh. I did leave her cash and a note. I wanted her to spend the money on food, but I know she's too damn proud.

I don't take orders at all. I'm not a waitress. What are you up to?

I chuckle at her response. I'm not sure she really wants to know, but I text it to her anyway.

Getting naked.

She immediately texts back.

This is the one time you can send a dick pic. Prove it.

I snort and contemplate going in the other room and snapping a picture of my brother Kyler, who happens to be a dick at times, just to joke around with Amber. But if she actually wants to see my dick, who am I to say no.

Are you sure? This isn't like a trap, is it? Where you send it all over the internet to unsuspecting ladies who don't want to see my dick?

My phone rings, and it's Amber calling me. I answer it right away. The shower rains in the background, as does the bathroom fan, but I don't turn either off. At least I've got a teensy bit of privacy from my brother while locked up inside.

"Dick pics are okay if they're solicited," Amber says. "Just never send a girl an unsolicited one. If she doesn't ask for it, she doesn't want to see it."

"Noted," I say and smile. I hope that she's not speaking from experience because I'd kill whoever sent her an unsolicited dick pic. "Are you asking to see my dick?"

She chuckles, and I wish we were having this conversation on video chat because I'm sure as hell that her cheeks are bright red, and she's probably got her head in her hands. She wears nervous well. It's flattering and adorable on her, even though she would disagree with me.

"Only if you're not expecting a pic in return," she says and giggles. "I do not look sexy."

"You're always sexy," I say. I can't imagine her looking anything but desirable.

"I'm curled up on the sofa in sweatpants and a T-shirt,babe," Amber says.

"Are you alone?" I ask. There's background noise, but I assume it's the television that she has on.

"Why? Would you be jealous if I had someone over?" she asks.

My throat tightens, and my stomach knots. Who the hell is she entertaining atthishour? "Do you have someone over?"

I swear I can hear rustling and movement. Is she forcing someone to be quiet, covering their mouth to keep them from laughing or speaking? The silence drags on, and I know without a doubt that I'm not imagining it.

"What the hell is going on, Amber?" I growl.