Peyton glances over suddenly, catching me staring. “You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Looking at me like I’m more interesting than the mountains.”
I should deny it.
Instead, I hear myself say, “You are.”
44
PEYTON
I stare at myself in the mirror for way too long.
This is ridiculous. It’s a scrimmage, not the Met Gala.
Still, I tug nervously at the sleeves of the oversized Avalanche hoodie stretched over my leggings. Daltyn bought it for me two days ago after we went toPine & Steam.Which somehow feels more dangerous.
The navy fabric hangs low enough to cover part of my hands while the Avalanche logo stretches across my chest.
There’s a knock on my door. My stomach flips.
Calm down. You’re acting like you’re going on a date.
This absolutely is not a date.
Right?
I slowly turn from the mirror and open my bedroom door.
Daltyn stands there wearing dark joggers, an Avalanche quarter-zip, and a backward baseball cap. My brain forgets how language works.
His eyes sweep over me once. His entire expression changes slightly.
Something warm curls low in my stomach.
“You okay?” he asks after a second.
I blink. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at me for like ten seconds.”
Heat floods my face.
“S-sorry,” I stammer, tugging at my sweatshirt.
A grin tugs briefly at his mouth.
His eyes drift back to the hoodie again. “You wore it.” The quiet satisfaction in his voice absolutely should not affect me this much.
“I figured it would help me blend in.”
His brows rise. “Peyton.”
“What?”
“You’re walking into an Avalanche arena beside me.”
