Page 45 of Goalie's Obsession

“That’s what this is about?” I ask. “Lucy kissing me is going to blow up yourimage?”

He swipes a hand over his face. “It’s all connected, Connor. Everything’s connected. You don’t get to have her. Not when she’s the only stable thing I’ve got left.”

My voice is low and measured. But razor sharp as I breathe through my anger. “She’s not athing, Ethan.”

He looks up at me, eyes bloodshot and blinking hard.

“She’s the one person who still thinks I’m worth something,” he says. “And now she’s looking atyoulike that.”

I step forward. “And you think me being near her ruins that?”

“I think you’re gonna break her heart,” he says. “And I’m not gonna watch that happen.”

I exhale slowly. “Look. I leave in six hours. For the tour. If you’re spiraling this hard, man, maybe you should take my place. Stay here and lay low for a bit. Clear your head.”

I reach for the counter, grab the spare key I keep for emergencies, and toss it his way.

He catches it. Stares down like I just handed him a live grenade.

“You think I want your charity?”

“No.” I meet his eyes. “I think you need a fucking lifeline.”

He stares at me like he doesn’t know whether to thank me or spit in my face.

Then he turns.

And walks out without another word.

The door clicks shut behind Ethan like a full stop. Sharp. Final.

The silence that follows feels louder than anything that came before it. I just stand there scrubbing both hands over my face.

What the hell just happened?

One second I’m texting Lucy, teasing her with a selfie in a ridiculous neon-orange suit, thinking maybe—just maybe—she’ll laugh. That I’ll get a smiley face or an eye roll or hell, even a threat of bodily harm.

Then Ethan shows up, drunk and feral, accusing me of stealing the one thing he’s still clinging to like a life raft.

You’ve been circling her for years, haven’t you?

The words stick like an unwanted splinter—small, sharp, and buried too deep to pull out clean.

Even if they're not entirely untrue.

Because yeah. I’ve noticed her. Always have. Back then, I called it protective. Friendly. She was just Ethan’s sister—the messy one, the funny one, the one who drew cartoon penises on my arm when Ethan and I played video games.

But then she grew up.

And somewhere between awkward adolescence and fiery womanhood, Lucy Daniels becameeverything.

Her laugh. Her brain. The way she bites her lip when she’s about to say something she knows she shouldn’t. The way she kissed me like she couldn’t stand another second without doing it.

She’s the one person who still thinks I’m worth something,Ethan said.

That’s what this is really about. He’s not scared of me breaking her heart.

He’s scared she’ll stop needing him.

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