20. Daltyn
DALTYN
The rest of the skate is a disaster.
At least for me.
Connor scores twice because I’m distracted. Ford chirps me nonstop from center ice. And Jake nearly crashes into the boards, laughing, after I completely miss an easy save because Peyton laughed at something Harper whispered to her in the stands.
“Holy shit,” Connor yells. “He’s gone.”
“I’m not gone,” I snap.
“You let Jake Monroe score on you.”
Jake places a hand over his heart. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Cole skates backward past me, grinning. “You’re smiling again.”
I stop.
His grin widens. “Oh my God. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”
Ford laughs loudly from the blue line. “Peyton broke the brick wall. ”
“She didn’t break anything.”
Connor points his stick toward the stands. “Then why do you keep staring at her like she hung the moon?”
Heat creeps up my neck beneath the mask.
I hate these assholes.
“Focus up, Guyer,” Ford says, still laughing. “Or Coach Decker’s gonna personally launch your ass into Canada when camp starts.”
I glare at him through my mask. “I hate every single one of you.”
“No, you don’t,” Connor says cheerfully.
Unfortunately, he’s right.
By the time Ford finally blows the whistle, signaling the end of the skate, I’m desperate to get off the ice.
Not because I’m tired. Because Peyton’s waiting for me.
The realization still feels strange as hell.
Usually after skates, I linger. The guys shower and bullshit around the locker room for an hour while Connor starts arguments he can’t win, Jake instigates everything, and Ford attempts to maintain some level of order.
It’s routine. Familiar. Safe.
But tonight?
I can barely focus on any of it.
And the reason why has long blonde hair and is wearing my sweatshirt.
I rip off my mask and head straight for the tunnel.
“Whoa,” Connor yells behind me. “Where the hell are you going?”
“The locker room. ”
“Bullshit,” Jake says. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen you leave the ice.”
Ford skates toward the bench, smirking. “He’s eager.”
“I’m not eager.”
Connor barks out a laugh. “Buddy, you practically teleported off the ice.”
Cole points his stick at me. “You gonna braid her hair after this or what?”
“Keep talking and I’ll hit you with my blocker.”
Jake gasps dramatically. “He’s threatening violence. It’s serious.”
I flip them off and disappear into the tunnel while their laughter echoes behind me.
Fucking assholes.
Ten minutes later, I’m shoving my arms into a hoodie while Connor stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“What?” I snap.
“You showered in under ten minutes.”
“So?”
“You usually stand under hot water contemplating life for at least thirty.”
Ford nearly chokes laughing from across the room.
Connor points at me accusingly. “He’s in love.”
“I’m not in love.”
Jake looks up from untying his skates. “That sounded defensive.”
“It WAS defensive,” Cole calls from the showers.
I grab my bag and scowl at all of them. “I’m leaving.”
The entire locker room goes silent .
Connor blinks.
Ford slowly lowers the towel he’s using to dry his hair.
Jake looks genuinely concerned. “You’re voluntarily leaving before we eat?”
“That’s how you know it’s bad,” Cole says solemnly from the showers.
“I hate this team.”
Connor grins. “No, you don’t, sweetheart.”
I flip him off, too. Then I leave before they can say anything else.
Their confused yelling follows me down the hallway.
“WAIT—WHERE’S HE GOING?”
“HE’S LEAVING WITH HER!”
“HE DIDN’T EVEN STAY FOR POST-SKATE FOOD!”
“OH MY GOD, HE’S DOWN BAD!”
Heat burns the back of my neck as I shove through the arena doors.
And immediately stop.
Peyton stands near the entrance beside Harper and Allie, bundled in the oversized coat I bought her. My Avalanche hoodie peeks out beneath it while her cheeks glow pink from the cold.
The second she spots me, her entire face softens.
My chest loosens so fast it pisses me off.
There she is. Waiting for me.
And for the first time in a long damn time, someone waiting for me feels right instead of terrifying.
“You survived,” she teases as I approach.
“Barely.”
Harper snorts. “The guys were chirping him nonstop.”
“They’re emotional support idiots,” Ford says, coming up behind me .
Connor appears a second later. “Correction. We’re his emotional support idiots because he clearly can’t function on his own anymore.”
Peyton laughs softly. The sound hits me right in the damn chest.
Connor notices too, judging by the way his grin turns downright feral.
“Ohhhh,” he says slowly. “He likes hearing her laugh.”
“Byrns,” I warn.
“What? I’m observing.”
“You’re annoying.”
“And yet I’m still your favorite teammate.”
Ford laughs. “Not even close.”
Connor places a hand over his heart. “Wow. Betrayal.”
While they argue, my attention drifts back to Peyton automatically. Always back to her.
“You hungry?” I ask quietly.
Her eyes flick up to mine. “Starving.”
“Good.” I take her bag from Harper before sliding my hand carefully beneath Peyton’s elbow. “I know a place.”
Her smile widens.
Worth every second of the chirping.
Connor gasps dramatically behind me. “HE’S TAKING HER FOR POST-RINK FOOD!” His voice echoes around the rink.
“Oh, this is getting serious,” Jake yells from behind us.
I don’t even bother turning around this time. Because Peyton’s smiling up at me.
And suddenly?
Nothing else matters.
The Blue Line Diner is warm and crowded when we walk inside, smelling like fries, burgers, and coffee.
Peyton relaxes beside me when we slide into a booth near the back.
“This place is cute,” she says, glancing around.
“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.”
“We wanted variety,” Jake says innocently.
“Bullshit.”
Ford sits in the booth behind ours. “Connor followed your location.”
“You’re such a stalker, Byrns,” I grumble.
Peyton chokes laughing.
Connor points at Ford. “Snitches get stitches.”
“You literally announced it in the group chat,” Cole says.
Jake nods solemnly. “Multiple times.”
Peyton looks confused. “Group chat.”
I nod. “The team group chat. That I ignored.”
Big mistake.
Connor ignores them before focusing fully on Peyton. “So, Peyton, how’s life with Vermont Batman?”
Allie pokes him in the side. “Stop embarrassing her. ”
Peyton snorts into her drink.
My eyes narrow. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Oh, she absolutely should,” Jake says.
Connor points at me dramatically. “Rumor has it he bought you enough winter gear to survive Everest.”
Allie smacks his arm. “I told you that in confidence.”
Harper leans her head on Ford’s arm, trying to hide her laugh.
Peyton raises her hand. “I confirm the rumor.”
Cole looks horrified. “Jesus Christ. He’s nesting.”
“I am NOT nesting.”
Ford leans back casually. “You bought her fleece-lined leggings.”
“Harper,” Peyton says, a pleading tone in her voice.
“Sorry. That one got away from me.”
Silence.
Peyton slowly turns toward me. “Sorry. It just… slipped out.”
Fuck.
Connor wheezes, while Jake nearly falls out of the booth.
And Peyton? She’s smiling at me again. That soft one that feels like it’s digging straight beneath my ribs.
God help me.
I’m so screwed.