Page 77 of The Golden Goalie

I walk over to the other side of him where everything for a salad is set out. There’s something almost domestic about working in the kitchen with him. I find it relaxing, even with somebody in the group coming in every other minute. It doesn’t take long to pull together a meal. We all gather around Rico’s long living room table, and I find myself relaxing and laughing as the night progresses. Rico is never far from me, and he uses any excuse to touch me. I smile every time he does it. He’s so different than I thought he would be. We end up playing games until late. Eventually, my exhaustion catches up to me. I try to hide my yawns, but after a few, Rico leans towards me. “Do you want to sleep here tonight or do you want me to drive you home?” I turn to him, and he’s really close. The temptation to stay is strong, especially because I’m tired. But I don’t want to make a mess of things like I did with Adam. “I need to go home.” He doesn’t question me; he just stands to his feet.

“I’m going to run Amber home.”

“We can do it,” Bri offers, yawning herself. Aiden stands up and helps her to her feet.

“I got it,” Rico says. “Don’t worry about cleaning up; I’ll get it when I get back home.” He turns to me. “Ready?” After hugging Bri and Stephanie, we head out to Rico’s truck and begin the drive to my house.

“Thanks for rescuing me today.”

He looks over at me and takes my hand in his. “You scared me when you called me and then when I got to you.” He shakes his head. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that’s just a precursor to what’s coming.” He doesn’t say anything. “Did I scare you off?” I ask, only partly teasing.

He laughs softly. “No. I’m just thinking.”

When he doesn’t say anything more, I prompt, “About?”

He squeezes my hand. “Nothing I’m going to share right now. I don’t want to scare you off,” he repeats my words back to me.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” I mumble.

“I just don’t want to be too much for you,” he says quietly.

I’m surprised by his words. “You’re not.”

“Well, I already told you—I'm a little all or nothing.”

I shrug. “I can handle you.” He laughs, and the sound is rich. “No, seriously. Why do you say you’re too much?”

He’s quiet a moment. “I’m the kind of guy that’s always wanted a family—a wife, kids, a big house to share together. I want family picnics, game days together, pizza nights, campouts in the backyard.” He looks over at me. “I’m definitely a romantic at heart. I have a lot of love to give,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. I can’t help the laugh that escapes. It’s quiet a few minutes, and I’m not sure what to say. “When I marry, I want the relationship to grow every year. I want my wife to be my best friend, the one person in the world I can’t wait to spend time with. I want to date her, even after we’ve been married thirty years. I want to create a life together that we love.”

I swallow. “That sounds beautiful, Rico.”

“My sister always made fun of me.”

“Why?” I ask.

He looks at me sheepishly. “Because for the last at least eight years or so, I put a wife on my Christmas wish list every year.”

“I’m not sure which one surprises me more—the fact that you write a Christmas list or the fact that a wife is at the top of the list.”

“Romantic? Remember.”

“I think it’s awesome, Rico. I’m like the furthest thing from a romantic,” I admit.

“That’s okay; I have enough for the both of us.”

“Okay.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. I reach out for my door handle, but he puts a hand on my leg, stopping me.

“I’ll get your door, if you can wait that long.” There’s humor in his voice as he climbs out. He comes around and opens my door a minute later. “Look at you; you waited.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

He leans forward. “I know, but this is just a small way you can let go of some of that control.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you calling me a control freak?”

He shrugs. “If the shoe fits.” I shake my head and push on his shoulder, which doesn’t budge, by the way. “Come on.” He tugs me forward and down. When we get to the front door, he stops just shy of the door. “We leave for an away game tomorrow.”

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