Page 71 of The Goalie in Room 1

“I appreciate the setting at ease, but my words can feed your hope.”

I laughed and said, “So can your face when you think I’m not looking.”

He glanced away. His lips rolled into his mouth, and he chewed them. I closed my fingers around his wrist before he could stand. “Hey…Dr. Vale?”

His eyes slid back to mine, his brows doing the communicating.

“I know this doesn’t mean I’m getting back on the ice.” I smiled sadly because as much as I didn’t want to believe the words I uttered, I did.

His gaze returned to mine fully, his handsome face turning to mine. “Do you?”

“Yes.” I loosened my grip, but I didn’t let Thad go. “The reduced swelling after the progressions…all it means is my knee did what we asked it to do. It doesn’t mean it will handle skating or the rapid succession of movement I’d need to do in the net or the physicality of the sport. I know this. Do I like it? No. Do I hope it’s more than that? Yes. But for today, the knee handling what we asked has to be enough.”

“For today?”

“Yes, Doc, for today. I can be happy about today’s progress. I’ll push and hope for more tomorrow.”

I felt his pulse beneath my fingertips.

Thad’s eyes dropped to my hand around his wrist, and the air between us changed. Our gazes met through the dark fringe of his lashes as he looked up at me. The heat in his eyes pierced my soul and set my insides on fire.

When he looked at me like that, he was Thad, my sexy, silver fox Daddy. He was the man who’d slept by my bed in a torture device of a chair the first night and then moved his expensive lounger to sleep in my room. Even after he moved to his bedroom, he woke himself every few hours during my first week in his house to make sure I was breathing. The man who knew I hated scrambled eggs and could not be bribed into eating them. Not even—or rather, most especially not—with hot sauce. The man who’d heard me singing badly in the shower and watched me swear at every goddamn thing I dropped and couldn’t pick up.

The man who wanted me.

“For today,” he agreed.

I released him and pointed at the brace. “Now strap me back into the medieval torture device so I can take a shower.”

“You showered yesterday.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Doc. People usually shower every day.”

“You aren’t people. You’re a pain in my ass.”

“It’s a nice ass too, but I’d prefer it if you were a pain in mine.”

He tightened the lower strap harder than necessary, and I laughed. “That’s not a denial, Doc.”

“You’re still my patient.”

The laughter died in my throat.

“Yeah, I know,” I whispered.

He finished securing the brace and checked the fit. When he looked up, I was still watching him.

Not Dr. Vale.

Thad.

“That’s why I said you like it,” I continued. “Not that you get to touch it.”

His gaze dropped before he could stop it.

The gray sweatpants I wore left little to the imagination, but my ass wasn’t the part of me reacting to the way he looked at me.

“Shower,” he ordered as he pushed himself to his feet.