Page 82 of Goalie's Obsession

"Why else would I spend three hours planning the perfect rooftop date?"

"Because I paid fifty grand for it?"

He pinches my side playfully. "Why else would I stock your favorite sour peach rings in my jacket pocket?"

I gasp. "You have peach rings? Right now?"

"See?" His eyes crinkle. "That right there? That's whyIlove you. The world could be ending, and you'd still get excited about candy."

I wrap my arms around his neck. "To be fair, they're really good peach rings."

"They're gas station peach rings."

"The best kind."

He kisses me again, and for a moment, I forget about everything else. The phone call. Ethan. The mess waiting for us back home.

"We'll figure this out," Connor murmurs against my lips before yanking the packet of my favorite candies open. "Together."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to face Coach Brody's Celine Dion punishment drills for the rest of eternity."

I laugh despite myself. "Now that's commitment."

He tosses me the peach rings. “You get three now. The rest are snacks for the plane ride back.”

“Excuse me?” I arch a brow, reaching into the bag. “Who do you think paid fifty grand for that rooftop sex? These aremyrings now.”

Connor’s eyes narrow. “Are you seriously using the auction against me? You bid on me fair and square. No pressure.”

“I’m just saying…” I dangle one near my mouth and then pop it in slowly. “If you want your girlfriend to survive this trip, you better fork over the sugar.”

He lunges across the bed and starts tickling me until I’m gasping-laughing and rolling away from him, peach rings spilling across the sheets.

“Stop!” I wheeze, batting his hands away. “This is assault.”

“This is candy justice,” he says, straddling me just long enough to swipe the bag from my hand and hold it triumphantly over his head. “You abused the snack power dynamic. There had to be consequences.”

I scowl, chest still heaving from laughter. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He drops down beside me with a smug grin. “You’re lucky I’mdevoted.”

“To me or to the peach rings?”

“Yes.”

I nudge his shoulder, but the moment stretches long enough that I catch the flicker in his eyes when he glances at me. Something shifts in the air, the sweetness giving way to something a little heavier. A little realer.

“You called me your girlfriend,” I say softly.

Connor goes still. Not in a panicked way. More like he's playing back the footage in his head.

“I did,” he says. “Is that… not accurate?”

I blink. “No. I mean—yes. I just…” I fumble with a peach ring. “I didn’t know we were labeling things.”

“I wasn’t trying to pressure you,” he says gently. “It just slipped out. But I meant it.”

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