Page 165 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
“So,” Allie says as Harper backs down the driveway, “how many times have you watched the coffee shop video?”
“I don’t want to answer that.”
Harper gasps dramatically. “That many?”
I fidget.
“He called you his girlfriend in public,” Allie says.
“I know.”
“And then followed you into the bathroom.”
“I’m aware.” Heat floods my face as I turn toward the window.
Harper presses a hand to her chest. “Honestly? If a six-foot-two NHL goalie publicly threatened another man over me, I’d simply pass away.”
My face burns hotter. “You’re married to the team captain and one of the star players on the team.”
She sighs. “I know.”
Allie grins. “Connor replayed the video six times last night while laughing so hard he cried.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“He said Daltyn looked like he was about to challenge the barista to a duel.”
That’s accurate.
The yoga studiosits near the edge of downtown Burlington between a bookstore and a little bakery overflowing with pumpkins and fall wreaths.
The second we step inside, warmth wraps around me.
Soft music drifts through the studio while candles flicker along the walls. The entire place smells faintly like eucalyptus and lavender.
It’s peaceful. Calming. Exactly what I need.
We grab mats near the back corner and get settled. Harper stretches beside me, her eyes on me.
“You know,” she says casually, “the internet thinks you and Daltyn are basically married now.”
“I’m aware.”
“There are edits.”
“I KNOW.”
“There’s one set to a Taylor Swift song.”
I glare at her.
Harper grins innocently.
The instructor walks into the room smiling serenely. “Welcome, everyone. Let’s settle into our space and release all outside stress?—”
The studio door SLAMS open.
Every head turns.
