Page 233 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
Because somewhere between the mountain cabin, hockey chaos, late-night conversations, soft forehead kisses, and Daltyn quietly handing me his jersey, my life changed.
And maybe… maybe I changed, too.
Allie smiles softly. “He planned something meaningful, didn’t he?”
My chest squeezes so hard it almost hurts.
Because she’s right.
Daltyn didn’t ask me out casually. He asked me out carefully. Intentionally. Like this date actually matters to him. Like I matter to him.
And somehow? That scares me almost as much as it thrills me.
Gram suddenly appears behind us, holding a bottle of glitter lotion.
“Remember,” she says solemnly, “a good man worships three things.”
I close my eyes. “Please don’t.”
“Your mind, your body, and your feet.”
Harper chokes.
Allie collapses in the chair, laughing.
“GRAM,” I hiss.
“What?” she shrugs innocently. “Healthy arches are important in relationships.”
I groan.
She shakes the bottle. “Some men even like rubbing their dicks on women’s feet.”
“Oh. God. Please stop.”
The entire salon goes quiet... before erupting into a mix of outrage and hysterical laughter.
63
DALTYN
I’ve faced screaming crowds, playoff pressure, and shootouts with twenty thousand people watching.
None of that compares to standing in my kitchen waiting for Peyton to come out of her room.
My palms are actually sweating.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I adjust the cuffs of my black button-down for the fifth time while checking the clock again.
Still too early.
The low sound of footsteps finally reaches me from the hallway. The clicking of her heels against the wooden floor grows louder.
Then Peyton appears.
And my entire fucking brain stops working.
