Page 39 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
I nod dumbly, clinging to my phone like it’s a lifeline.
He backs away, still looking at me, then turns and jumps inside his vehicle. He guns the engine, hurrying across theparking lot like he’s afraid I’m going to head inside without him.
I should, but I’m too stunned to move.
A few minutes later, he hurries toward me, a relieved smile on his face.
My heart beats faster. My pulse bangs against my neck.
His smile is devastating.
The kind that makes women’s panties explode. The kind that makes women stupid enough to think they could survive falling for him.
He wraps his arm around me. “Lean on me.”
Yes, sir.
Instead, I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
I use him like a crutch, letting him take most of my weight. He handles it like a pro, leading me to the shoes.
My eyes land on a cute pair of running shoes. I see the price tag below them and nearly have a damn stroke.
$180.
I can’t afford that.
“What size are you?” Daltyn asks.
“I can’t afford?—”
“You’re not. I am. Now, what size?”
“Seven,” I murmur.
A male salesclerk comes over as Daltyn gets me settled on the bench.
“Hey, Daltyn.” They do a complicated handshake. “What can I do for you?”
“Can we see this shoe in a seven?” He holds it up, then puts his hand on my shoulder. “I need something supportive for her. She has high arches, so I figured this sneaker would be good forthat.”
I blink.
High arches?
I glance down at my foot. I do have high arches. But Daltyn noticed that? No one notices that.
The two men continue chatting before the sales rep disappears to get my shoe.
“High arch?”
He nods. “You do.”
“I know. I’m just... surprised. That you noticed.”
His blue eyes lock with mine. “Don’t be. I notice a lot about you.”
That remark shouldn’t warm my insides the way it does. It shouldn’t make my lower belly flutter. And it definitely shouldn’t make my panties damp.
