Page 88

“Dalton.” I lifted my head. She had a soft smile, and her chin rested in the palm of her hand as she leaned on the counter. “No. I don’t want to just bring you back leftovers. I want you to come…to meet them.”

I stood and walked over to her, loving the way her breath hitched when I caged her in with my arms. The little moles dotting her clavicle killed me. I wanted to run my tongue along them, connecting them. To see how much faster I could get her chest to rise and fall.

Instead, I squatted down and cupped her face with my hands. “Are you sure? Because I don’t have to come if that makes you uncomfortable. I’ll go out with the guys or relax in the hotel room while you’re out.”

She peered up at me, vulnerability shining in her eyes as she picked at her callouses. “I panicked because my inside thoughts made it out of my mouth before my head could filter what to say.” A stab of sadness hit me, knocking some air from my lungs. But I couldn’t say I was surprised. She gripped my hand with hers when I started to pull away, keeping it on her cheek. “Wait, let me finish. I’m glad it slipped out, because that’s what I want, Dalton. I want them to meet you.”

The weight of her admission settled in the air between us.

I pressed a kiss to her mouth, loving the way she melted under me. “I would love to meet them. I’d love to be a part of anything you’ll let me, Ari.”

My heart raced as her wide eyes locked on mine, and then, almost instinctively, she glanced toward the hallway.

She was going to run.

I could see it in the way her chest rose and fell, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. My stomach twisted, regret and fear clawing at me for saying too much.

“We should probably get to bed,” she said, her voice softer, almost unsure. “You’re probably tired from travel and all that…”

“Yeah, right,” I managed, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Her coconut scent taunted me. “Night, Sunshine. I’ll clean up from dinner. Sweet dreams.”

She hesitated, looking up at me with a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Night, Thatcher.”

And just like that, I stepped back, and she stood and walked down the hallway.

The knife in my chest twisted deeper with every step she took away from me. It took everything in me to let her go, to stay rooted to the spot as she slipped out of sight.

Two steps forward and three steps back.

I ran a hand through my hair, blowing out a breath as I stared at the now-empty kitchen. What the hell was I doing? I’d been hooked on her from the start, yes, but this wasn’t some fleeting infatuation. This was more.

This was everything. She was everything.

My world felt brighter when she was around. The weight of expectations, the pressure of my career—it all faded when she was near. She made me feel seen, like I wasn’t just Dalton Langley, star hockey player, or the guy trying to prove himself to his father.

With her, I was…me.

I wanted her to let me in.

To let me see all the parts of her she tried so hard to keep guarded. To stop running—not just from me, but from the idea that we could be something real. Something worth fighting for.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, debating if I should go after her. Tell her everything. That I wasn’t just playing house, that this wasn’t some fake relationship anymore.

That I’d fallen for her. Hard.

But the thought of pushing her, of scaring her off completely, kept me frozen in place. Grabbing the dishes and carrying them to the sink, I sighed, the ache in my chest refusing to fade. I’d give her space, but one thing was for sure—this wasn’t over. Not for me.

I just had to hope that when I told her, it wouldn’t be over for her either.

FORTY

ARIELLA

WHEN A CHARACTER SAYS THE QUIET PARTS A LITTLE TOO LOUD…

I groaned, pressing the phone harder against my ear as I flopped onto my bed, clutching the pillow beneath my head, wishing it could somehow smother the chaos swirling inside me.

Pick up already.