The way he looked at Ethan like he was reliving his own childhood.
I need air. Space.
Something besides my own thoughts.
I need to get out of here.
Twenty minutes later,I’m climbing out of an Uber near the center of Burlington while cold mountain air brushes against my face.
For five seconds, this feels like exactly what I need.
Until the Uber drives away and I see people staring at me, recognition and interest on their faces.
Several do double-takes before they start whispering.
A teenage girl walking past suddenly grabs her friend’s arm.
“Oh my God,” she hisses loudly. “That’sher.”
My spine stiffens.
Her.
Not Peyton.
The woman connected to Daltyn Guyer.
Heat crawls uncomfortably up my neck as I shove my hands deeper into the sleeves of Daltyn’s sweatshirt and start walking faster down the sidewalk.
I should’ve worn something else. But I wasn’t thinking clearly when I left.
“Excuse me?”
I glance over. A woman around my age smiles brightly while holding her phone. “You’re dating Daltyn Guyer, right?”
“I—”
“He’s my favorite player,” she rushes out excitedly. “Can I get a picture with you?”
My brain short-circuits completely.
“With me?”
She laughs. “You’re basically hockey famous now.”
Panic flutters low in my stomach.
I force a polite smile anyway because apparently my survival instinct includes emotional self-destruction.
I nod, smiling awkwardly beside her as she wraps an arm around me.
After the picture, I start walking faster.
But now more people recognize me. Questions are firing at me from every direction.
“The goalie’s girl!”
“You guys are adorable!”
