Page 141 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
Twice.
“How,” I say slowly, “does someone accidentally admit I stole their panties?”
Her horrified expression somehow makes this worse. “I panicked!”
A laugh threatens to break loose. I fight it, barely keeping it inside.
Peyton points at me accusingly from the couch. “Don’t you dare laugh. I almost threw myself off the deck.”
That’s what breaks me.
A rough laugh escapes before I can stop it.
Her eyes narrow. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“Rude.”
I toss my keys onto the counter before pulling the athletic tape loose from my wrists.
God. I didn’t realize how badly I needed her.
Training camp already feels a thousand miles away instead of twenty minutes.
Peyton watches me carefully. “You look exhausted.”
“I am.”
Concern softens her expression.
Something low in my stomach pulls tight enough to piss me off.
I sit on the opposite end of the couch with a tired groan.
“How bad was it?” she asks softly.
“Connor called me Mrs. Guyer’s husband.” I rub my forehead. “Jake changed my locker nameplate to Peyton’s Husband.”
She shakes her head. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I stare at her for a moment. I get the feeling she already knows, but I don’t question it. I’m sure Harper or Allie gave her an update.
“Connor put it back after I threw it.”
Her lips twitch.
I point at her. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“You’re failing.”
A quiet laugh slips out of her.
The sound settles something restless inside me far too easily.
