Page 10 of Goalie's Obsession

"Yeah. Sure." I force a laugh that sounds like a goalie mask scraping against concrete.

He doesn't know. He can't know.

I take another swig of beer, longer this time, hiding behind the glass while my pulse settles.

Ethan's always been perceptive, but there's no way he's figured this out. He hasn't been around to see it. I have been careful. Well, except for that moment at the bookstore today.

And Vegas.

And every single time we're in the same room together.

Shit.

Ethan finishes his drink in one long gulp, stretches his arms over his head, and drops the next bomb.

"Anyway, I might need your help with something soon."

I lean forward, intrigued. Finally, something to focus on besides Lucy.

"Help with what?"

Ethan hesitates. "It's complicated."

"Complicated how?"

Ethan exhales, running a hand through his hair. The gesture makes him look older, worn down. "I think I need to keep a low profile for a bit. And soon, it will be useful to have someone I can trust."

I lift a brow. "Low profile? What, are you on the run?"

Ethan laughs, but it doesn't sound right. "Just... some business stuff. Nothing crazy."

I narrow my eyes, studying Ethan's face. Something's off. The Ethan I know doesn't do 'low profile.' He does champagne towers and private jets and brags about them on his feed.

"Is everything alright?"

Ethan shrugs, tracing the rim of his empty glass. "Just need a break from the scene. Thought I'd hang around Iron Ridge for a while."

"For a while? Like, more than a weekend?"

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?" His tone shifts to defensive and he gives me the once over. "Besides, someone needs to keep an eye on my little sister. Seems like she's been hanging around the wrong sort lately, huh?"

The way he says it—with that pointed look—makes my stomach clench.

"No problem at all, man. It'll be good having you around again." I signal Eli for another round. "Actually, now that you're staying, you should come to the charity auction at the season launch next week. The team's raising money for Blake's youth hockey program."

"Charity auction?" Ethan perks up slightly. "Like, the one where they auction off the players for dates?"

"It's not a date," I correct him quickly. "It's a 'fan experience package.'"

Ethan's laugh sounds almost normal this time. "Right. And how much did you go for last year?"

"Fifteen grand," I admit. "But it was for charity."

"And who was the lucky winner?"

I grimace at the memory. "Senator Wilson's daughter. We toured the arena and had dinner at Vincenzo's."

"Sounds romantic," Ethan teases.

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