Page 161 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
Big, big trouble.
41
DALTYN
By the time Connor skates toward me, grinning like a psychopath, I already know my day is about to get worse.
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND!” he bellows across the ice loud enough for the entire arena to hear.
Every player on the rink loses it.
Jake doubles over against the boards, laughing.
Cole nearly drops his stick.
Even Easton looks like he’s trying not to smile.
I seriously consider removing Connor’s head from his shoulders.
Coach Decker blows his whistle sharply. “Byrns.”
Connor straightens. “Yes, Coach?”
“Shut the hell up.”
Connor nods solemnly. Then he whispers dramatically as he skates past me, "You called her your girlfriend."
“I’m going to bury your body in the mountains.”
Connor gasps. “Threatening me won’t make you less in love.”
Ford skates between us before I can commit a felony during morning drills.
“Both of you knock it off,” he mutters.
Connor points at me. “Tell Romeo to stop attacking innocent civilians in coffee shops.”
“I didn’t attack anybody.”
“You verbally murdered a barista.”
“He leaned over Peyton.” The words leave my mouth without hesitation or thought.
The second the silence hits around us, I realize my mistake.
Connor’s eyes widen slowly. “Oh my God,” he whispers.
Jake points his stick at me from across the ice. “HE ADMITTED IT.”
I rub both hands down my face.
This team is a disease.
Coach blows the whistle again before things spiral further. “Line drills. Now.”
Thank Christ.
The team spreads across the ice while I settle into position near the goal crease.
