Page 253 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
I smile into my coffee. “Are you planning on releasing me at some point?”
“No.”
“Possessive.”
His voice rumbles against my shoulder. “You like it.”
He’s absolutely right.
Life settles into routines.
Quiet little things, like Daltyn checking the weather before I drive his SUV anywhere. I keep protein bars stocked because apparently, hockey players survive exclusively on caffeine and poor decisions. He automatically reaches for my hand in parking lots. Me sitting beside Allie and Harper at games while Connor acts like he’s legally required to create chaos every intermission. The team chirps at Daltyn nonstop because now he smiles too much.
Which honestly? Still shocks me sometimes.
Like tonight.
Connor is dramatically reenacting Daltyn glaring at him during training camp while the entire team laughs around the long restaurant table.
“You used to look at people like you were deciding where to hide the bodies,” Connor accuses.
“I still do,” Daltyn says calmly.
Ford points at him. “Not around Peyton.”
“That’s because she domesticated him,” Jake says.
Cole nods solemnly. “Like a feral mountain wolf.”
“I hate all of you,” Daltyn mutters. But he’s smiling when he says it.
And everyone notices.
Especially me.
There are still moments when I catch glimpses of who he used to be.
He becomes quiet and guarded, silently drowning.
But then he looks at me like I’m something safe. Something worth building a future around.
The realization terrifies me almost as much as it heals me.
Some nights are still harderthan others.
Healing isn’t linear.
I learn that the first time Daltyn wakes from a nightmare after opening night.
I didn’t fully wake at first. I just felt him leave the bed.
Then the cold.
Then his absence.
My eyes crack open to darkness.
The bathroom light glows faintly downstairs.
