Page 10 of Heartfelt Goals

Of course.

Dustin rolled his eyes and exhaled slowly.

There was no arguing with a brick wall.

The next day wasn’t any better.

The same irritating phone call, the same grumbling complaint from the owner of the rusted-out junker parked outside. The same ache gnawing at his muscles, making every stretch feel like slow torture. His patience was already wearing thin when his phone buzzed—first with a text from his agent, then another from his sister. By the time he realized he was completely out of BenGay, his mood had plummeted into something dark and foul.

Limping slightly, Dustin grabbed his trash bag and made his way to the chute before heading toward the elevator. He rolled his shoulders, shifting the lingering tension, then crossed his feet and reached for his toes. His hamstrings screamed in protest, tight and unforgiving. He exhaled through his nose, willing the stretch to loosen the knots coiled inside him.

Then came the ding of the elevator, and he straightened abruptly—only to find himself face-to-face withheragain.

Laurel.

And standing beside her, a pint-sized version of ‘attitude incarnate,’eyes wide with curiosity and mischief.

Dustin barely had time to process his surprise when the girl wrinkled her nose and blurted out, “He smells.”

Heat surged up his neck.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Just got out of practice. I’m a little sweaty.”

“More likea lotsweaty.”

“Kendall.”

“What?” The girl—Kendall, apparently—shrugged. “He smells like a wet dog. Maybe you should write about werewolves boinking or something and use thisolfactory insultfor reference, Laurel.Phew!”

Dustin’s brain short-circuited.

His mouth fell open in sheer horror as Laurel’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. She gasped, visibly mortified, then shoved her glasses up her nose and yanked the kid back by the collar.

“Can younot?”she hissed through gritted teeth.

Kendall, utterly unrepentant, fluttered her lashes dramatically. “Ceruleanbluuuuue,”she sing-songed, then rolled her eyes at Laurel like they’d just shared some inside joke at his expense.

Laurel looked utterly trapped – like she was ready to leap out of the elevator into nothingness just to get away from him.

It was a little insulting to think that he smelled that much, but then again, they had played hard at practice today, and all of them stunk. He had wanted to get home before things tightened back up… which is why he was limping slightly now.

Dustin was still reeling when the puzzle pieces clicked together.

“Ithoughtthat was you the other day,” he said slowly, still struggling to catch up. He looked between them, realization dawning. “Wait—you have a kid?”

“Ew, no!You wish!Back it up, Dump Truck,” Kendall scoffed, waving a hand like she was clearing the air. “This elevator’s got enough room for six people, yet you’re hogging all the clean oxygen.”

Dustin blinked.

Dump. Truck?

Before he could form a response, Laurel turned on Kendall, her expression murderous. “Enough, Kendall!” she hissed, her wide eyes promising swift and immediate consequences.

Dustin bit back a horrified laugh.

Laurel had a kid who was almost ateenager.

As the elevator door opened to the hallway that led to the parking garage, his footsteps faltered as he instinctively hungback. He wasn’t in any rush to leave—not yet, anyway. There was no way that was her child, because she would have been pregnant at thirteen or fourteen – and he was still living at home at the time. Laurel and Madeline were still having sleepovers and playing together. Maybe it was a sister or a cousin?

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