Page 27 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
It seems to be working. For now.
Late evening light spills through the massive windows overlooking the woods.
Domestic.The thought hits hard enough to make my chest tighten.
My phone buzzes again.
Peyton points her fork toward it. “You should probably check that before Connor sends a search party.”
“He might anyway.”
“That doesn’t sound reassuring.”
“It shouldn’t.”
Her laugh is soft and warm this time.
I grab my phone, making sure she can’t see the screen.
The Avalanche After Dark group chat is complete chaos.
Connor: Did you survive the flight or did Peyton murder you halfway home?
Jake: More importantly, did SHE survive HIM?
Cole: Connor said you’re her personal Hallmark movie hero.
Ford: Tell me you didn’t already move her into the murder cabin.
Connor: Where else would he take her?
Connor: Is she there right now??
Jake: Oh my God. She is. That’s why he’s not answering.
Cole: The Daltyn Guyer domestic era.
Ford: This is moving disturbingly fast for a man who claims he “doesn’t do relationships.”
Christ.
These fuckers are a bunch of unhinged idiots.
Me: I’m fine. She’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Connor: If you’re saying that, it’s not fine.
I roll my eyes.
Me: Thanks, Bryns. I appreciate you driving my SUV to the airport.
Connor: I wouldn’t have had to if you had let Allie and me pick you up.
I take a bite of food, still watching the chat, knowing Connor’s probably going to start shit. He always does.
Me: And I said no.
Connor: And then you threatened to tell my wife about the blonde hitting on me in Vegas if I offered to pick you up from the airport one more time.
