Page 11 of The Good Girl Next Door

Pulse-pulse.

Silas makes every part of my body pulse and throb and scream. And I’m wanting to scream right now because I. Don't. Date. Players! I don’t date period, but Silas is making me reconsider every rule I’ve made for myself—including the one by my father.

His players don’t date the coach’s daughter.

He’s protective when it comes to me because he’s had first-hand experience with athletes. He spent the majority of his life either playing hockey or coaching, so he knows what happens in the locker rooms. He knows what players talk about. How some of them treat women. He doesn’t want me to be one of those puck bunnies, passed around like a puck on ice.

But he has nothing to worry about. I’ve never found any of his players attractive. I’ve hardly found anyone attractive until Silas.

He might have to worry about him.

Me too.

I’m not sure what to expect with Silas, but I think that describes him perfectly. He’sunexpected,and that’s an anomaly for me. I have my life ordered and regimented—there’s no element of chaos. Losing my mother was enough chaos for me, but Silas has me thinking I might have room for a little more. A different kind of chaos. The kind of chaos that leaves me feeling like a sweltering mess in the library stacks.

I swallow hard at the large figure standing at the end of the aisle.

The kind of chaos that hunts me down, deep inside the labyrinthine library.

“Hello, Pru,” Silas says, taking one step forward.

I don’t normally feel so breathless when I hear my nickname, but each time it leaves Silas’s lips, it crushes my lungs, twists my belly, and makes me want more.

“Silas,” I breathe, resting my hand below my ribcage, trying to center myself as the world sways around me. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for something,” he says, moving toward me like a prowling animal, fingers gliding along the spines of the books.

Someone? Me?

His hair is still damp—dark, wild tresses only some of which are pinned behind his ears. He’s wearing a pale mint polo that makes every single muscle stand out. Although I’m sure there isn’t a single thing he could wear that could hide those away. And those tattoos—watching them move as his muscles flex makes my stomach flip.

“You know there’s a computer database for that. Shows you exactly where you need to go to find what you need.”

God, my voice sounds so odd—as though someone other than me is talking. I swallow hard as Silas closes in on me, the crown of my head tingling.

“I prefer face-to-face interactions. A human touch,” he adds, pausing in front of my cart. He places both hands around the cool metal as a jealous pang jabs me in my stomach, beneath my palm.

I want those hands wrapped around my wrists. Pinned up above my head. No—I justwantthem on me.

“What can I help you find?”

My nipples are bullets beneath my blouse, tightening and tightening as Silas studies me. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

“A few recommendations,” he says finally. “I want to read your favorite romance, Pru.”

My mouth dries as my already heated body feels like it’s being incinerated.

“They don’t carry it here,” I say, scrubbing my arm as goosebumps flare.

“That’s a shame,” Silas says, his eyebrows connecting into a thick ridge as he frowns. “I’ll buy the library a dozen copies.”

I can’t help but smile. “I’m not sure they’ll accept your generous donation.”

“A library turning down books? Doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, the romance selection is small here, and my favorite is a little… risqué.”

Pure smut, if I’m being honest. No shame here, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to reveal what lies hidden deep inside my Kindle quite yet.

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