Page 1 of Goalie's Obsession

Chapter One

Lucy

Here'sthethingaboutescaping a high-society charity gala in Iron Ridge - you have to nail the execution.

Lucky for me, I've had twenty-five years of practice.

I sink deeper into my favorite velvet armchair at Chapter & Grind, kicking off the torture devices masquerading as designer heels.

The fireplace roars beside me, bathing the book shop in heat as I settle beneath the "Reserved for a Chaos Gremlin" sign Emma, my best friend and owner of Iron Ridge's book store, refuses to take down.

My emergency escape bag - stashed here months ago - yields the coziest oversized sweater and leggings, a vast improvement over the champagne-colored dress my mother insisted would 'photograph well for the society pages.'

Through the towering windows, snow falls in lazy spirals, turning Iron Ridge into a snow globe scene. Back at my parents' estate in the mountains, the gala continues in full swing. All fake laughs and strategic small talk.

But here, tucked into my corner of literary heaven, I can breathe.

I get changed out of my dress quickly and Emma appears with my usual caffeine hit - a Slow Burn mocha that lives up to its name. She grins like the book-pushing enabler she is, and drops a mysterious wrapped package onto my lap with all the subtlety of a hungry squirrel.

"Your latest blind date awaits." She gestures to the book. "And before you ask… yes, it's another spicy sports romance."

"You're making my addiction worse."

"That's literally my job description," Emma shrugs.

I trace the brown paper wrapping, reading the handwritten description Emma puts on all her surprise books: 'Grumpy captain meets his match. Featuring: size difference, forced proximity, and enough tension to power a small city.'

Emma perches on the arm of my chair. "Also, while you were changing, your phone's blown up three times. In five minutes. I'm guessing Mama Daniels noticed her daughter pulled a Cinderella?"

I huff and roll my eyes. "More like ananti-Cinderella. I left the fancy dress party behind and ran away from the ball, not toward it."

But you see… the only problem with running away from your problems is that sooner or later, they catch up with you—usually while you're wearing uncomfortable shoes and carrying your mother's disapproval.

I groan and take a long sip of my drink.

"Swear to God, babe, if I had to listen to one more hedge fund manager tell me how 'fascinating' my little social media hobby is, I was going to commit a crime with the ice sculpture."

My best friend laughs and places a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.

The charity gala my parents were throwing had been exactly as expected: champagne flutes that never emptied, conversations that never mattered, and ridiculous expectations that will never,everend.

"I'd planned my escape from the moment my mother mentioned seating me next to eligible bachelor Preston Whitfield III." I snort-laugh in the most unladylike way possible - the kind that would make my mother clutch her pearls - while Emma slaps a hand over her mouth, trying and completely failing to contain her own giggles.

"Prestonwho?!"

I giggle and swat at Emma. "Right? He's the man whose personality could be outshined by a piece of toast."

"Well, you're safe now." Emma gestures around the nearly empty bookstore. "Thursday night. Snowstorm warning. Just you, me, and approximately ten thousand fictional boyfriends who are guaranteed better company than Sir Preston Whatever."

I kick back in the chair, tucking my feet under me as I reach for my book.

This is why I love Iron Ridge, and more specifically,thisbook shop.

It's the perfect hiding place from my family's world of galas and expectations. Chapter & Grind isn't just a bookstore; it's sanctuary.

I love my family.

I do.

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