“It’s open late. Food’s good.”
“And you come here after skates?”
“Not usually.” I put my arm over the back of the booth near her shoulders. “Mostly, when I want to be alone.”
A waitress appears, smiling warmly at us. “The usual, Daltyn?”
I nod before glancing at Peyton. “You want a menu?”
“Yes. I don’t trust anyone who orders for me.”
My lips twitch. “Smart.”
She grins.
And fuck.There’s that feeling again. That warm tightening in my chest every time she smiles at me like that.
The waitress walks away while Peyton shrugs off her coat, revealing my Avalanche hoodie underneath.
My eyes lock onto it.
Mine.
There’s that dangerous thought again.
“What?” Peyton asks.
“Nothing.”
Her eyes narrow suspiciously.
Before she can press me, loud voices echo from the entrance.
“Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me,” I say, running a hand through my hair.
Peyton blinks. “What?”
Connor’s laugh booms through the diner. Followed by Jake yelling, “I TOLD YOU THEY’D COME HERE.”
I slowly close my eyes, reminding myself that murder is still illegal. “No.”
Peyton bursts out laughing beside me.
Ford, Connor, Jake, and Cole all appear near the hostess stand, still wearing hoodies and damp hair from the rink. Harper and Allie, Ford and Connor’s wives, stand beside them.
Connor spots us. His face lights up like Christmas morning.
“Oh my God,” he says loudly. “LOOK HOW DOMESTIC THEY ARE.”
Every head in the diner turns toward us.
I hate this fucking team.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask as they crowd around the booth.
Connor looks offended. “We’re eating.”
I glare at him. “You always go to Benny’s after skates.”
