Page 59 of The Golden Goalie

I nod, unsure what else to say. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to realize this is a terrible idea,” I finally say.

He studies my face again, and I fight not to fidget under his gaze. “How about this? We have a big game in two weeks against one of our rivals. It's the Friday after Thanksgiving. You come to that game if you want to go forward with this. If not, then we won’t.”

He makes it sound so easy. “Two weeks?”

He nods. “Two weeks. I’ll try to leave you alone until then.”

I smile in spite of myself. “Okay.”

He walks me to my car. “I know I said I'd give you time, but—”

“Backing out already, Garcia?” I use his last name like the guys always do.

“No,” he says with a sexy smirk. “I was just going to say that I’ll give you space, but if you need me, call or text any time.”

“Even if it’s in the middle of practice or a game or three o’clock in the morning?” I push.

“Anytime,” he reiterates. “If I can’t answer, I’ll return your call as soon as I’m able.”

He's really serious about this. “Okay,” I cave. He steps close, and I stare up at him. He leans forward, and I hold my breath. His lips graze the side of my cheek. When he pulls back and stares down at me, I realize I’m not breathing and take a small breath. “You’re going to the library, right? I’ll make sure you get there safely.”

“You’re going to follow me?” I frown.

“Yes, because I don’t trust this piece of junk you drive.”

“Hey, this car has been good to me.”

“And how did it do the other night when it wouldn’t start?” he questions.

“That was a one-time thing,” I argue.

“Was it?”

“Okay, fine. Follow me to the library.” He laughs and walks over to his truck. I’m practically drowning in my thoughts as Idrive to work. He beeps and drives off once I’m on campus. So I have two weeks to decide if I’m ready for a relationship with him.No pressure.

The next two weeks fly by. Thanksgiving sneaks right in, along with the opening of Bri’s shop. Between helping her, the holiday, work and school, the time slips right by. Suddenly, it’s the day before the game, and I’m totally panicking. After my classes finish on Thursday, I drive to the nearest sports’ store during my break before I start my shift at the library.

“Can I help you find anything?” a girl probably about my age asks.

“I’m looking for Green Thunder jerseys,” I tell her.

“Those are right over here.” I follow her to the large green section of the store. “Any particular jersey?”

“Um, do you sell jerseys for the goalie?”

“Rico Garcia?” she asks with a grin. “Yeah, right here. Number 82.” She pulls out a jersey and pauses, eyeing my belly.

“Yeah, I need one with room to grow.”

She smiles and snags a larger one. “This one should work.”

“Thanks.” I grimace at the price. “I’ll take it.” Minutes later, I walk out of the store with my new jersey in hand. I throw it in the back of my car and head to the library. “Hey, Mrs. Randolph,” I say after clocking in.

“Good afternoon. How's that hockey player doing?”

I shake my head. She literally asks me the same thing every day. I tell her the same thing every day.I haven’t talked to him lately.That’s the truth, but today I have something different to report. “Well, I just returned from the sports store.”

She turns her head to me. “And?”

---