Connor sees the screen before I can grab it. His eyes widen dramatically. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh.”
I already hate that tone.
Connor clutches his chest. “He slept on the couch with her.”
I snatch the phone out of his hand. “You’re obsessed with me. I’m going to tell Allie.”
“No,” Connor says. “I’m obsessed with this romance novel you accidentally turned your life into.”
Ford nearly chokes on his water.
Jake skates over. “Wait. Read it.”
“No.”
Connor wipes imaginary tears from his eyes. “He made her coffee.”
Cole slaps the boards, laughing.
Easton looks deeply concerned.
Honestly? That’s fair.
Connor points at me accusingly. “You tucked her in, too, didn’t you?”
I glare at him silently.
Apparently, that's enough of an answer. The entire team erupts again.
“Oh my God!” Jake yells.
“He’s domestic now!” Connor shouts.
“Next thing you know, he’ll be shopping for throw pillows,” Cole adds.
“I hate every single one of you.”
Connor grins. “Not as much as you love Peyton.”
That shuts me up.
Not because he’s wrong. Because I don’t know if he’s right.
And that’s somehow worse.
Coach blows the whistle again before Connor can emotionally devastate me further.
“Last drill,” Coach barks.
Thank fuck.
I pull my helmet back on while Connor skates beside me.
“Seriously, though,” he says quieter this time. “You good?”
The question catches me off guard.
Because beneath all the chirping and chaos… Connor actually sounds serious.
