Page 53 of Heartfelt Goals

It wasn’t careful or hesitant. It was consuming. Deep. A slow-burning fire that spread through her limbs, making her forget everything—her sweat, her exhaustion, the entire world outside of him. His lips moved against hers with purpose, stealing the rest of the air from her lungs.

By the time they broke apart, she was breathless, her fingers curled against his chest.

Maybe Kendall was right.

They really were pathetic.

And she didn’t care one bit.

12

LAFRENIÉRE

After weeksof trying to keep his distance, resisting the pull that was Laurel, Dustin found himself utterly defenseless against her. It was impossible to hold back anymore. He devoured her books, stealing moments to read them on his phone whenever he had the chance—between drills at the arena, in the locker room while the guys joked around him, even with one earbud in as he lay in bed just a few feet away from the woman who was slowly unraveling every defense he had.

Listening to her words, reading her thoughts woven into each story, it did something to him. It was more than just entertainment. It was intimate—too intimate if he was being honest. The more he read, the more he saw himself in the dragon prince, the hero of her stories. He wasn’t sure if it thrilled him or terrified him that this was how she saw him. It was humbling, exhilarating, and downright unnerving. She had laid him bare on those pages without even realizing it. And that meant she saw him—really saw him—in ways no one else ever had.

And he saw her.

Maybe that was why he started leaving her little messages without words. The first time, he had slipped a dragon stickeronto her desk, waiting for her to notice. He had watched, his heart hammering, as she picked it up, studied it, and then smiled. A real smile. A quiet, knowing smile. The second sticker? That one he put on his helmet, a silent declaration he didn’t have the courage to say out loud yet. He wondered if she’d see it tonight, wondered if she’d understand the meaning behind it.

And then there were the blue roses. He had justified them as a nod to his team’s colors, but that was a lie. He had picked them because they were unique, just like her – and a subtle nod that he knew about her book characters and why they all had blue eyes like him. Because somewhere deep down, he wanted her to know she was special to him in ways he hadn’t fully admitted to himself yet. He was trying—trying so hard—to show her what she meant to him without rushing her, without scaring her away. Because once they crossed that line, there would be no going back.

The young girl he remembered, who had a crush on him, was now a grown woman… but had those feelings grown like her? This was serious and beyond anything he’d handled before. This wasn’t some casual fling. She wasn’t just another girl. She was his wife. His sister’s best friend. A woman he was falling for in a way that left him completely unmoored. And if he wasn’t careful, she was going to wreck him in the best possible way.

Even this morning had been another moment that unraveled him just a little more. She had found him in the kitchen, her voice soft but full of concern as she pelted him with questions.

“Did you stretch this morning?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your leg?”

“I’m fine right now.”

“And later?”

He had shrugged. “Depends on how rough the game is. I’ll ice it if I need to or stretch some more, but…”

“I’ll help when you get home.”

She hadn’t even hesitated. She had just said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then, before he could even argue—before he could tell her there was nothing she could do—she had hugged him. Just wrapped her arms around him, solid and real, and it had stolen the air from his lungs.

He wasn’t sure what to do with moments like that. Moments that were so simple yet hit him like a freight train.

“We’ll be in the stands watching,” she had whispered, her voice full of something that felt like… pride. “It’s our first home game, and we can’t wait to support you and the new team.”

“I’ll be looking for you,” he had admitted softly, surprising himself.

“Just be safe today,” she had said, her fingers curling around the fabric of his hoodie before she reached up, standing on her toes, and kissed him.

And darn it all, that kiss had nearly undone him. The scent of peaches, the warmth of her pressed against him, the way her lips had moved against his—it was everything. It was a promise, a question, and an unspoken truth all at once.

“Laurel… we should talk,” he had whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

“No, we don’t have time,” she had said softly, her voice tinged with something that sounded almost like regret. “You’re due at the arena soon, and I don’t want to make you late, feel rushed, or leave the conversation hanging because we had a deadline.”

And just like that, she had pulled away. Leaving him standing there, wanting more. Needing more.

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