Off Sides(16)

So far, he has proven to be skittish and apparently runs in a circle of *s. Do I want to even be involved in this?

I open my eyes and look at him. Before I can even say anything, he leans in and brushes his lips over mine. He moves his mouth to my temple and presses a light kiss there. Then he whispers, "Please. Take a chance."

I pull slightly away from him. I'm wary but I cannot deny that I feel an intense connection to Ryan. It is more than just physical attraction. I sense something in him that resonates with me although I cannot put my finger on it. Am I willing to explore that further to see if it can be identified?

"Okay," I breathe out.

"Okay?" Ryan sounds bewildered.

I nod my head and before I know it, he wraps me in a suffocating hug. Ryan presses his head into my neck and murmurs a "thank you" against my skin which causes my pulse to go through the roof.

Pulling back he looks at me. Cupping both of my cheeks with his hands, he just stares at me with such ferocity that it makes me want to devour him. I lean in to kiss him but he stops me. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Danny. I won't do it again."

I give him a smile before I lean in to claim that kiss. "Okay. I'll hold you to that."





CHAPTER 7




Ryan



I must be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet right now. Danny is willing to give us another chance and I feel like I just won the Stanley Cup.

We are sitting on her couch having just finished an awesome breakfast that Paula cooked while Danny took a quick shower. She never did go on her run and I'm glad. I didn't want to miss a minute with her today.

Turns out, Paula's not so bad. She can be scary—terrifying actually—but it's in a protective way for Danny and I'm all for that. Turns out, she had been standing in the hallway the entire time we talked, so she overheard everything. She made a big entrance as we were kissing to let me know that she forgave me too.

How comforting.

At least I can be fairly sure she didn't poison my pancakes.

Paula has left to go to work and we now have the apartment to ourselves. Danny has a rare day off from all of her obligations and we decide to just stay here today and chill out. We have a few days of lost time to make up for and I want to know everything about her.

Danny is sitting on one end of the couch with her back against the armrest and her legs curled underneath her. She's wearing a pair of old, faded jeans that hug her curves just right and sports a hole in one knee. Her t-shirt also hugs her amazing upper body curves and I can't help periodically glancing at the words “Kiss Me – I’m Irish" stenciled across the front of her breasts. She's barefoot and her toes are painted a deep purple color which I find to be incredible sexy.

I'm at the other end of the couch and my legs are extended with my feet resting on either side of her hips. "Okay, first things first...what is Danny short for?"

She laughs at me and it's music to my ears. If I could make a full time job out of listening to Danny laugh, I would.

"Daniella. But no one calls me that. Ever," she says with warning.

"Why not? It's a beautiful name."

She shrugs her shoulders at me. "I don't know. It's always been Danny so that's what I'm used to."

"Fair enough. So what's with the purple hair and piercings?"

She grabs a lock of her long hair, pulling it over her shoulder and looks down at it in reflection. "You don't like it?"

"On the contrary, I love it. I mean, I've never gone out with a girl with colored hair or a nose ring, but I have to admit...it's hot as hell on you. It's what makes you unique. And I'm finding a new fondness for unique things."

She giggles at me. "It's a good thing. Because I wouldn't change it for you."

"And I wouldn't ask you to."

She flashes me a smile that is so genuinely happy, that my breath catches. Her teeth are straight and gleaming white. Her dimples are perfectly etched and her lips could have an entire book of poetry written to them.

Holy shit! I was becoming a f*cking dork thinking like that. Still, I had to admit that her beauty had me a little captivated. Okay, a lot captivated.

"How did you get into hockey?" she asks, breaking into my thoughts before they can veer into all the things I would love to have her do with those poetic lips.

"Gosh...let's see. I've been playing since I was about six years old. My uncle played in the NHL back in the 80's and he’s the one that originally got me into it. I played Junior Hockey before being recruited to Northeastern."

"Do you want to play professionally?"

I lean forward and grab both of her ankles, straightening her legs out. Her feet rest just short of my crotch, which is a good thing. I pick one dainty foot up and start massaging it, working my thumb into the arch. She gives a little groan and closes her eyes, and holy hell that is sexy. I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

"Yeah, that’s my dream. It will go against everything my parents expect of me, but that's what I want."

"Do you always do what your parents expect?"

"Not always but I have a lot of the time."

I don't elaborate but she's not going to let it go. And honestly, I don't want her to let it go. I want her to want to know about me. She pushes on. "And why do you do what they expect a lot of the time rather than what you want to do?"