Page 198 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
“You really don’t have to help me,” Thelma says.
“I know.” I reach over and grab one of Daltyn’s hoodies from the dryer. “I want to.”
“You’re really special, Peyton.” Thelma grins at me while folding his sweatpants.
She’s in her sixties with silver streaks through her dark hair and exactly the kind of sharp-eyed energy that says absolutely nothing escapes her notice.
Which is dangerous considering I currently have my slippers beside his sectional, skincare products invading his bathroom, and pretty much zero explanation for when I plan to leave.
Thelma glances toward me while folding one of Daltyn’s T-shirts. “You’re good for him.”
My hands stop moving. “What?”
She smiles softly. “He hasn’t smiled this much in years.”
Something in my chest tightens unexpectedly.
“Daltyn smiles,” I say weakly.
Thelma gives me a look. “Honey, no, he doesn’t.” She shakes her head. “He broods more than he’s ever smiled. Until you.”
I blink.
Because that can’t be true.
Can it?
Sure, he’s grumpy. Quiet. Intense.
But I’ve seen him laugh.
I’ve seen the way his mouth twitches when Connor says something ridiculous.
The way he smirks when I steal his blankets.
The way he looks at me after I say something sarcastic.
Thelma folds another shirt carefully. “Before you came here, that boy would come home from practice, make dinner, and sit in silence half the night.”
Something about the image makes my heart ache.
“He’s always been kind,” she continues quietly. “But he has things in his past that haunt him.”
I go completely still, hanging on her every word.
Thelma smiles faintly to herself as she smooths out a towel.
“My husband passed away two years ago." Her voice softens. “Heart attack. One minute, he was complaining about the Red Sox. The next…”
She exhales slowly.
“I didn’t know how I was gonna survive after that. We were drowning in bills.” She laughs once without humor. “I came up here to clean his cabin seasonally and somehow ended up crying in front of Daltyn over a broken vacuum.”
Something twists unexpectedly inside me. “What did he do?”
Thelma snorts softly. “Looked horrified.”
A startled laugh slips out of me.
