“I hate this team.”
“You’re a huge part of this team,” Ford reminds me calmly.
Gram walks directly over to Peyton and pats her cheek affectionately. “Don’t worry, Sweet Cheeks. He’s emotionally constipated, but he means well.”
Peyton chokes on her coffee.
I stare at the ceiling, wondering if the cabin collapsing on me would actually improve this situation.
Harper smirks over the rim of her coffee. “You know… I think this might be the most personality Daltyn’s ever shown publicly.”
“Terrifying,” Allie agrees.
Connor’s phone beeps, and he pulls it from his pocket. “Oh my God,” he says loudly.
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
He starts reading. “‘Protective king behavior.’”
Jake wheezes.
Connor smirks and keeps reading aloud. “‘DaltynGuyer hard-launching a relationship by sounding ready to kill somebody is somehow exactly what I expected.’”
Cole nearly falls into the wall laughing.
Connor keeps going. “‘She’s with me’ merch coming soon?—”
“Give me the fucking phone.”
He dodges me like a champion fighter.
Peyton’s laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes now.
And despite the absolute disaster currently unfolding inside my cabin, something in my chest loosens.
Because Peyton looks happy. Relaxed. Safe.
My team crowds around the kitchen island, arguing over tweets, while Gram loudly asks Peyton if she prefers gold or silver jewelry “for future planning purposes.”
And standing there watching all of it, I realize something that should probably terrify me.
This doesn’t feel temporary anymore.
33
DALTYN
Training camp officially starts today.
Which means my peaceful existence is over. Not that it’s been peaceful lately.
I pull into the player lot at Summit Arena while sports radio blares through my speakers.
Unfortunately for me?
They’re talking about me.
“—fans are losing their minds after Green Mountain Avalanche goalie Daltyn Guyer appeared to confirm his relationship with Peyton Sinclair during a live Zoom interview yesterday?—”
