Page 60 of Goalie's Obsession

“Sometimes I forget too, Lucy Lou.”

My pulse stumbles.

“Remind me,” I whisper, my voice fuzzy and slow. “Why are we pretending?”

His answer comes quiet. Careful.

“…I don’t know anymore.”

The air between us stretches, heavy with everything we’re not saying.

And for once, I don’t hide.

“Me neither,” I whisper.

Chapter Thirteen

Connor

Thesunishigh,the sand is hot, and I’m still thinking about last night.

Correction: I haven’tstoppedthinking about it.

“Remind me, Connor… why are we pretending?”

I don’t even know what time she fell asleep after that. All I know is I laid there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling like a goddamn idiot, replaying her words on a loop.

And then this morning?

Coach Brody hauled our asses out of bed for team training.

No sunrise yoga on the beach this time—thankfuck.

We were indoors at the practice facility, stuck doing media training and brand alignment workshops. AKA: listening to a corporate guy in a polo shirt lecture us about current social media trends and hownotto piss off our sponsors.

The whole time, I was counting down the minutes until I could get back to our room. Back toher.

When we got back from the rink, Lucy was still wrapped in the sheets, hair a mess, snoring softly like she hadn’t just blown up my entire brain twelve hours earlier.

All I wanted to do was climb back into bed and let her drool on my chest.

Instead, now I’m here—sweaty, sunscreened, and surrounded by my teammates on a private Malibu beach while trying very, very hard not to stare at the woman currently applying coconut-scented lotion to her ridiculously sexy legs.

I’ve seen a lot of dangerous things in my life. Flying pucks. Oncoming hits. A drunk Ryder in charge of fireworks.

And yet… none of them compare to Lucyinthatbikini.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath, running a hand down my face.

“Yeah, I know,” Logan says from beside me, cracking open a canned cocktail and sliding down his sunglasses. “I felt my soul leave my body when she walked out of the cabana.”

I cut him a look. Sharp. “You wanna keep your eyes to yourself, or do I need to remind you she’s off-limits?”

Logan snorts. “Relax. I was admiring, not applying.”

I raise a brow. “Admire someone else then. Like… I don’t know, maybe a certain barista back in Iron Ridge?”

That gets him.

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