Page 78 of Goalie's Obsession

“So,” I murmur. “Worth the fifty grand?”

He groans. “Lucy Lou, you’re worthtentimes that.”

My cheeks flush, and I’m suddenly glad my face is buried in his neck.

Connor shifts, rolling gently onto his side and nudging me into the pillow. Then he slips out of bed, completely, gloriously naked—and pads across the suite to grab the champagne.

“Are youstruttingright now?” I tease, admiring the way the moonlight carves soft shadows down his back, all the way to his perfectly shaped ass.

“I just blew your mind,” he says over his shoulder. “Let me have my moment.”

He pops the cork one-handed and brings the bottle back with two glasses. The whole room glow with the candles still flickering around us.

“Enjoy your moment, Connor,” I whisper. “I can't believe tonight. You really went all out.”

He settles back on the bed and I lean over to kiss him on the cheek, our eyes connecting as I smile gently at him.

"Thank you," I say.

His eyes soften. “You deserved more than a bet. More than a rooftop and a cleverly worded menu.”

I bite my lip, watching him. Then my phone buzzes on the nightstand, ruining the most perfect moment of my life.

I glance over lazily, and freeze as the name on the screen lights up.

Ethan.

My stomach knots so fast it feels like I might be sick.

Connor sees it instantly. His entire body goes still. The humor drains from his face, replaced with tension so tight it could snap steel.

“You gonna answer that?” he asks quietly.

I swallow hard. “Um... I guess so.”

I reach for the phone, heart pounding as I slide my finger across the screen.

“Ethan?” My voice cracks. “What’s wrong?”

There’s silence on the other end. A loud crack and then my brother's voice.

Raw, frayed… Completely off pitch and frightened.

“Luce, I—”

I sit up straighter, pulling the sheet tighter around me. “Ethan, what is it?”

"I think I've messed up."

Chapter Seventeen

Lucy

“Ethan,slowdown.You’renot making any sense.”

My brother’s voice crackles through the line—thick, slurred, and bouncing between guilt and word-vomit panic.

“Luce… I tried. Ireallytried to clean it up. But I messed up. Again.” A glass clinks in the background. Something falls. “Shit.”

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