Page 65 of Goalie's Obsession

This is just me, wanting Lucy, needing her to know that she's mine.

Chapter Fourteen

Lucy

Yesterday,IgotConnorWalsh off while floating in my favorite bikini in the Pacific Ocean.

And today, I’m pretending like that wasn’t the absolute highlight of my entire existence.

Not that I canforget. Not with the way he keeps looking at me like I still have my hand down his board shorts. Like he’swaitingfor me to do it again.

The man has the audacity to smirk every time our eyes meet, like I didn’t edge him until he was all twitchy and desperate in the ocean.

Now, it’s bright, sunny, and yet another stupidly perfect day in Los Angeles. The entire team is gathered at the base of Runyon Canyon for “optional bonding time,” which we all know meansmandatory team hikein the words of Coach Brody.

And by team, he meanseveryone.Including me.

“C’mon, people!” Sophia claps, overly cheerful in her neon leggings and coordinating scrunchie. “This trail’s not gonna hike itself!”

Blake trails behind her, holding two iced coffees and looking like he regrets every life choice that brought him here. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Because it’sscenic,” Sophia chirps.

Connor appears at my side, sweat already glistening on his forearms like he’s auditioning for a fitness calendar. His Icehawks tank clings to his chest in a way that reminds me of how his shorts clung to him in the ocean yesterday.

His voice drops low near my ear. “You sure you’re up for this, sweetheart? You did drink LA under the table two nights in a row.”

I sip from my organic green hangover-curing juice and smirk. “Please. I could hike this trail inheels.”

He gives me that lazy once-over, eyes dragging down to my black leggings and ribbed tank top. “Don’t tempt me.”

Sophia spins around at the first bend in the trail. “Alright then. Let’s make it interesting.”

She points at me. “You and Connor.”

Then at herself. “Me and Blake.”

“Couples race to the summit,” she grins. “Losers buy dinner.”

Connor lifts an eyebrow. “This seems rigged.”

Blake groans. “I’m not racing you psychos.”

“Oh, youare now,” I say sweetly, already stretching one leg up on a rock like I’m in a Nike ad.

Connor watches the movement. Slowly. “You’ve got no mercy, do you?”

“Not an ounce, Goalie-boy.”

He steps closer, voice low and wicked. “Careful. If I win, I’m ordering dessert.”

“You realize we're on the same team, right?”

“Yeah, but either way, I’m eating dessert off you.”

I choke on my juice.

Sophia claps. “Aaaaand go!”

---