Page 169 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
Peyton nudges my shoulder lightly. “You’ve been staring at me all morning.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“You absolutely have.”
I glance at her.
She raises her brows knowingly. The smile she gives me hits me square in the chest.
A grin tugs briefly at my mouth before I look away.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
A gust of cold wind cuts through the trees suddenly.
Peyton shivers.
Before I can think better of it, I reach over and tug her closer against my side.
Peyton slowly looks up at me.
Fuck.
I clear my throat roughly. “It’s cold.”
“Right,” she says softly.
Neither of us moves apart.
Probably another terrible decision.
I keep making those around her.
We walk a little farther before I finally say, “So next week gets busier.”
Peyton glances over. “With training camp?”
“Scrimmages. Preseason stuff. Media crap.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
Especially now. Because hockey used to be the onlything taking up space in my head. Now Peyton somehow lives there rent-free like an emotionally devastating little squatter.
“There’s a scrimmage Wednesday,” I continue. “Then a preseason game Friday.”
She nods slowly while kicking a leaf off the trail. “Oh.”
Something about her tone makes my chest tighten slightly.
“You don’t have to come,” I say quickly.
Peyton’s eyes flick toward me briefly. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”
The tension in my shoulders loosens before I can stop it. It’s fucking embarrassing.
