Page 39 of Goalie's Obsession

“So,” she grins. “Let’s recap.”

I groan and bury my face in my arms. "Not again."

“You outbid yourbrother, made out withConnor Walsh, and now the entire internet thinks you’re in a full-blown relationship with a man who could bench press a sedan. How’s your Tuesday going?”

“I hate you.”

“You hate that I’m right.”

I squint at her over the rim of my cup. “Okay, but what the hell were you doing bidding onLogan?”

She shrugs, completely unfazed. “What? The man growls for a living. You know I’ve got a thing for hockey bad boys.”

My eyes drift to Emma's prized collection - rows of hockey romance novels with their brooding athletes and swooning heroines. Of course she'd stock enough shirtless goalies to fill an entire NHL roster.

“Emma.”

She sips her chai with smug grace. “Focus on your own sexual crisis, babe. Mine’s goinggreat.”

I lift my head just far enough to glare at her. “It’s not a thing. The media’s just… being the media.”

Emma hums. “Uh-huh.” Then she’s reaching into her purse, pulling out her phone, and shoving it two inches from my nose. “Then explainthis.”

I squint at the screen and fuck… it’s worse than I thought.

So much worse.

A headline blares in bold font across the screen:

ICEHAWKS STAR & BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS? INSIDE THEIR SECRET LOVE STORY

Another:

WALSH & DANIELS: THE OFFSEASON’S MOST TALKED-ABOUT COUPLE

And then:

THE MOST EXPENSIVE DATE IN SPORTS HISTORY—WHAT’S NEXT?

I blink. “Is that a—”

“Compilation video?” Emma nods. “Set toCeilingsby Lizzy McAlpine. Very tasteful. Very viral. You’re trending number one on TikTok.”

“Oh mygod.” I grab the phone. “This is… I can’t. This is a disaster.”

Turns out, hiding in a bookshop and ignoring the rest of the world doesn't make all your problems go away.

Emma sips her chai, completely unbothered. “Honestly, you’re living the dream.”

“It’ll die down soon, right?”

“Oh, honey,” she says, with the kind of pity usually reserved for lost puppies and discontinued snacks. “You kissed him like he was dessert and you hadn’t eaten since Tuesday. You’re done for.”

I flop back into the chair, one arm flung over my eyes.

“This is why I don’t do things. This is why Iplan. Because when I don’t, I end up straddling Connor Walsh in my office while people write headlines about our hypothetical babies.”

Emma laughs. “Look, all I’m saying is… maybe don’t run this time.”

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