Page 91 of Don't Fall for the Goalie
Connor sends another message.
Connor: Check Hockey Hub. It gets worse.
My eyes narrow. “That sentence should never exist.”
But I open it anyway. Big mistake. My blood pressure spikes.
The screen fills with another photo.
This one is older. I recognize the scenery. It was taken outside the airport. The day I brought Peyton to Vermont to stay with me.
I blink at the image.
My arms are locked around Peyton as I carry her across the parking lot toward my SUV after she twisted herankle.
Her face was buried against my neck.
My expression murderous. Possessive. Protective.
The article headline sits beneath it.
WHO’S THE MYSTERY GIRL IN THE ELUSIVE GOALIE’S ARMS?
My stomach twists.
Suddenly, I realize something that makes this whole situation infinitely worse.
I haven’t been paying attention. Not the way I normally do.
I’ve barely looked at media coverage lately. Barely checked social chatter. Barely monitored fan accounts.
Usually, I notice everything. It comes with the territory.
Especially as a goalie.
People watch goalies differently. Analyze us in ways they don’t with our teammates.
We’re expected to stay controlled. Locked down. Careful.
And lately? I’ve been so consumed by Peyton that I stopped paying attention to the outside world entirely.
A cold feeling crawls down my spine.
Because if random hockey accounts found these photos… Who else has?
My grip tightens around the phone.
If this keeps spreading and Landon finds out... fuck.
Landon pleaded out and is awaiting sentencing. I know he’s likely going away.
But now, with the coverage, a million questions swirl in my mind.
Could something change?
Could his lawyersfind a way to use this?
I stiffen, my jaw clenching so hard I’m surprised I don’t hear my molars crack.
