Page 55 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
There’s a voice in my head that warns that’s only one piece of what I want from her, but I push it away. Relationships are not my thing. And Peyton deserves someone who can give her that. Someone who can give her everything her heart desires, including marriage and kids.
But that man isn’t me.
The door opens, and Thelma steps inside. Her brows raise as she takes in my wet clothes. “Hell of a workout?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s a long story.”
Peyton comes out, wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She’s wearing a pair of leggings and my fucking sweatshirt. Even with the medical boot on her foot, she looks stunning.
“Oh,” she says, her cheeks scarlet. “I didn’t realize?—”
“Thelma, this is Peyton. Peyton, Thelma. She cleans and does laundry.”
“Nice to meet you,” Peyton says, still blushing.
Thelma stares at Peyton for a moment, then her sharp gaze moves to me. “The pleasure is mine.”
Then her eyes move back to Peyton. “So you’re Daltyn’s?—”
“Friend.” The word rushes out. “She’s a friend who’s staying here. Temporarily.”
Peyton blinks a few times before she says, “Yes. I’m just a friend. I’ll only be here a short time.” She jerks a finger over her shoulder. “I left my phone in my room. I think I hear it.” She whirls around and hurries off as fast as the boot will allow.
“Friend, huh?” Thelma smirks at me. “That’s one gorgeous friend.”
I shrug. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”
“Pretty?” Thelma stares after her. “She could be a model.”
I don’t say anything.
“My son is going through a divorce. Do?—”
“No. You’re not introducing them,” I snap. I don’t mean to, but the thought of Peyton meeting some other guy sends a wave of jealousy through me that I can’t control.
Thelma grins and goes to the closet with the cleaning supplies. “Friends, my ass,” she mutters.
I roll my eyes and head up the stairs to my loft. I’m never introducing Thelma to Gram. They’ll gang up on me for sure.
And I have bigger problems right now. Like how I’m going to get Peyton’s panties in the wash without putting them in my hamper. I guarantee Thelma will find them in there if I do and will have more questions than I’m willing to answer.
My phone beeps. It’s the group chat.
Ford: Anyone wanna skate tonight?
Connor: I’m in.
Jake: Me too.
Me: I’m in.
Cole: I’m game.
Ford: Seven work?
Everyone confirms, including me.
Connor: Daltyn, you can bring Peyton.
