Page 68 of Goalie's Obsession

His grip on my wrist tightens. "Keep that up, and I might have to show you exactly how crazy you make me."

The promise in his voice makes heat pool in my stomach. I've never felt this kind of connection before—this electric pull that makes everything else fade away until it's just us, just this moment.

Connor tugs my hand, leading me away from the shade of the tree and our nearby teammates to a higher overlook up the trail. Within a few minutes, the LA skyline stretches before us, bathed in rose gold as the sun dips toward the horizon.

"Come here." Connor settles onto a sun-warmed rock and pulls me between his legs. His arms loop around my waist, and I lean back against his chest, letting out a contented sigh as I feel my body sink against him.

He reaches around us, breaking off a piece of some fancy dark chocolate he snuck from the team's snack spread before anyone saw. "Open."

I part my lips, letting him feed me the chocolate. It melts on my tongue, but it's the intimacy of the moment catches me off guard.

This all feels too… right.

And I can't help but lean into that thought as I watch the clouds above us and listen to Connor's breathing.

"Speaking of jealous… you never talk about your parents," I say softly, tilting my head to look up at him. "I met your sisters, but I didn't even know they existed."

"I know."

"Why not?"

“Guess I don’t really like talking about life before hockey,” he says, voice rough like gravel. “Didn’t feel like much to talk about.”

His chest rises and falls against my back.

"My parents just worked nonstop. Dad at the firehouse, Mom doing double shifts at the hospital. I was raised by my sisters, and I guess that kind of independence just stuck."

I twist in Connor's arms to face him, my legs dangling over the rock's edge.

"It's funny that your sisters basically raised you, too. I mean, different circumstances but-" I pause, gathering my thoughts. "When Mom and Dad were busy with galas and board meetings, Ethan was my whole world."

Connor's fingers clench at the mention of my brother. "Yeah? And what was little Lucy like?"

“A total menace. I used to follow Ethan everywhere, copying everything he did...”

Connor chuckles. “Trust me, I remember. You used to pop into Ethan’s basement during game nights with your hair in lopsided pigtails, demanding snacks.”

I gasp. “You remember that? How embarrassing.”

“Hard to forget,” he says, mouth curving. “You were loud. And tiny. And you always wore those sparkly jelly sandals that squeaked.”

"You say that like I was in diapers. We're only three years apart, mister!"

He chuckles. "I know. I guess you grew up real quick."

"Lucky for you, huh?" I laugh, shaking my head at the memories flooding in. "You know… one time, I tried learning hockey just because you boys loved it so much."

"Wait, you played?" Connor's eyes light up with interest.

"God no. I just wobbled around the rink in figure skates, holding a field hockey stick because I didn't know the difference." I laugh at the memory. "Ethan spent hours teaching me, even though I was terrible."

"That's..." Connor's voice softens. "That's actually really sweet. Both of you."

"Aw… look at you. Connor Walsh, a secret softie." I lean into his touch, my heart doing that dangerous flutter thing again. "I like this version of you."

"Yeah?" His eyes search mine. "Which version is that, baby?"

"The real one. The one who feeds me chocolate and talks about his sisters and..." I swallow hard, realizing just how much I mean these words. "The one who sees the real me. Not the one I was being raised to be."

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