Page 16 of Goalie's Obsession

“You know, Lucy Lou… if you want a date with me so bad, you could've just asked.”

Ethan curls an arm around his shoulder and pulls him in a headlock as I'm left staring at the empty space they leave behind.

I should feel victorious, like I won the argument.

Instead, all I can think about is that stupid towel. And that stupid smile. And how I just accidentally volunteered myself to bid on a man who absolutely knows I won’t be able to help myself.

Natalie breezes past me, patting my arm. “Ah… you’re so screwed.”

Yeah.

Yeah, I am.

Chapter Four

Connor

Iadjustmycuffsin the mirror, analyzing my reflection with more scrutiny than I've given a pre-game tape review.

Coach Brody’s house smells like woodsmoke, barbecue sauce, and whatever ridiculously expensive aftershave he pretends not to wear. The mansion's warm lighting makes everything look better.

The fireplace crackles in the oversized stone hearth, casting a golden glow across the living room where the team is sprawled out like they own the place.

Ryder’s taken over the leather sectional, wings in one hand, beer in the other, already leaving a trail of napkins like a drunken breadcrumb path. Logan’s perched near the fireplace with a scowl, clearly still pretending this whole event is beneath him. Blake’s kicked back in one of the armchairs, tie draped around his neck, grinning like he’s just waiting for the chaos to start.

I’m at the edge of it all, in the hallway outside the guest bathroom, adjusting my cuffs in the mirror and trying to pretend I’m not thinking about Lucy.

The suit’s new. So are the shoes.

And… the clean-shaven jaw I haven’t seen since last year’s playoff run.

"Holy shit, Walsh actually has a chin!" Ryder's voice bounces off the vaulted ceilings of Coach Brody's ridiculous mansion. “Sothat’swhat your face looks like under the beard.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t see me last season, jackass.”

“Yeah, but that was practice gear and swamp hair. This?” He whistles low. “This is, like…date material.” He pops a wing in his mouth and winks. “You tryna impress someone tonight?”

"Fuck off." I turn from the mirror, catching Blake's amused expression as he sprawls across the leather couch, one arm stretched along the back like he owns the place. He has a tray of wings balanced on his knee, tie already loosened like we've already been to the auction.

"Just saying what we're all thinking." Ryder grabs another beer from the bucket.

I shrug, fighting the urge to run my hand over my jaw again.

“Lookin’ sharp, Walsh.” Blake calls out from the living room. “Enjoy the spotlight while you can. My engagement nuked my auction value.”

I glance over. “Yeah, I’m sure Sophia’s crying into her ten-carat ring every night.”

“Heartbroken,” he agrees. “Said I used to be dangerous. Now I fold laundry.”

“Domestic hot,” Ryder mutters with a nod. “Girls love that shit.”

From the bar in the corner, Brody lifts his whiskey. “God help whoever bids onyou, Ryder.”

Logan snorts. “There’s a reason Lucy had me take his profile to Emma at Chapter and Grind to beheavilyedited.”

The laughter rolls through the room, but I’m only half-listening now. My eyes drift back to the mirror, to the sharpness of my jawline, the fresh shave, the unfamiliar vulnerability of seeing my full face again.

It’s stupid. It’s vanity. But…

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