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and only because she had already ordered a giant stash, one that filled up nearly an entire shelf in her pantry. A stash she’d bemoaned to Fanny about forgetting to hit up before they’d gone on the road trip—stupid feelings making her forget the important things in life.

Refined sugar.

Cinnamon.

Ethan.

But the appearance of this yumminess meant that Ethan had mind-reading abilities, either that or he’d snooped in her cabinets.

Or . . . Fanny had spilled the contents of her bemoaning on the plane.

There was a knock on the door before she’d delved too deeply into that, into what else Ethan might have learned over the last few days. She swiveled in her chair.

Mandy, one of the team’s trainers, stood there, warmth in her eyes and another box in her hands.

“This is for you,” she said, crossing the room and setting it on the desk next to Dani. A squeeze of her shoulder, no further words, and Mandy was gone.

More turquoise paper.

Another silver bow.

No note on the outside, but she discovered that was because the note was inside the box, folded and placed in a small silver and turquoise-speckled bowl that had been painted with, “Dani’s Candy.”

She unfolded it with shaking fingers, read it, and was . . . touched and hopeful and charmed . . .

And still just a bit scared.

Okay, a whole lot scared.

But also, a whole lot relieved. Because Ethan wasn’t avoiding her—or she supposed he was avoiding her, but he didn’t hate her. Rather, he was being sweet and sending her notes, and . . . God, she loved him.

Her fingers trailed over the slanted letters of the note, the crisp handwriting.

For your sugar stash.

-E

She ran a finger around the smooth, glazed edge of the bowl, and then, very carefully, she opened the Hot Tamales and poured in the inch-long red cylinders.

As she suspected, the box filled it perfectly to the top.

“How?” she whispered. “Why?”

But there was no one around to answer her quiet questions, so she spent the next ten minutes on the phone with Jess, going through their checks, making sure all would run as smooth as possible while the game was running.

And during this time, she was interrupted by no less than three more players.

First Max, who handed her a brand-new pair of ridiculously pricey Bluetooth headphones she’d mentioned wanting to Ethan in passing once. Then Coop, who came bearing her favorite coffee. And finally, Blue, a giant smile on his face as he deposited a box that turned out to hold the softest, cuddliest hoodie ever.

Yes, she put it on.

Yes, she drank the coffee while it was hot.

Yes, she synced the headphones with her laptop.

And . . . yes, she fought off the urge to storm the locker room, to grab Ethan and kiss him senseless. Barely.

Knock-knock.

She glanced up, jerking her hand away from the bowl and the smooth edge she kept fondling to see Brit standing in the open doorway in her usual pregame workout gear, worn during her warmup of running through the arena. She also wore a knowing smile and held yet another small package in her hand.

Christ, at this rate, Dani wouldn’t have any room in her luggage.

“What now?” she found herself snapping. Then immediately slapping her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled, the word muffled. “I . . .”

“Long day?” Brit asked.

She dropped her hand. “You have no idea.”

Brit’s brown eyes twinkled. “I will neither confirm nor deny any ideas held.”

Dani stuck her hand out. “Just give it to me, already. I don’t want Ethan’s mission to mess up your routine.”

“Who said anything about Ethan?”

“Brit,” she warned.

The tall blond moved toward her. “I’ve never seen you growly,” she teased. “If it’s because of the aforementioned certain yummy, bearded man, then I say it’s a good look on you.”

“You have your own scruffy, bearded man,” Dani muttered, lifting her hand.

One brow went up. “And so I should keep my hands off yours?”

Dani felt her cheeks warm. Thank God, her skin didn’t reveal her blush. “I didn’t say that.”

The second brow joined the first. “It was implied.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Brit pointed at the monitors. “Should we go to the tape?”

“You’re not funny.” A beat. “No, go get ready to make all sorts of pretty saves I’m going to chop up into awesome bite-sized replays.”

“For the record, I like you with attitude.” She squeezed Dani’s shoulder, turned away.

“What about the bag?” Dani asked when Brit started to leave with it.

“Who said it was for you?” A teasing question, but before Dani could start sputtering, embarrassment flooding forward to take hold, Brit plunked the bag down. “Ethan’s a good guy,” she said. “Love him. It’ll be good for you both.”

Then she was gone, the door clicking closed behind her.

“I’m trying to love him,” Dani muttered, tossing her hands up. “If only the damned man would stop avoiding me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ethan

“She seemed like she wanted to murder me,” Brit said, strolling into the locker room and plunking her ass onto the bench next to him. “I’m assuming you know what you’re doing?”

“Mad is better than running screaming for the hills,” he replied, picking up his skate and checking his laces, his edges.

Brit paused, head tilting from side to side as she considered that. “Okay, you may be smarter than I anticipated.”

He punched her on the shoulder.

Not lightly, because she didn’t appreciate her teammates going easy on her. But also not hard, because she was his goalie, and he needed those arms in fighting shape for the game.

She scowled. “Ow.”

“Liar.”

A beatific smile. “That’s true.” She clapped her hands together. “What was in my bag?”

He knew what she meant without needing her to clarify. He hadn’t told any of his “assistants”—as Kevin had termed them when he’d asked his friend’s advice for winning over Dani—what was in the packages, and thankfully they were nosy enough to just be happy about being part of the process, not needing to know every detail.

But Ethan had known that wouldn’t last.

And sure enough, Brit had that look. The one that

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