Page 35 of Romancing My Grumpy Goalie

“Those are good things to do,” I point out. “I don’t see the problem.”

“I use my positivity to hide what I need to face. What I may need to change or address.”

“You’d be surprised how many people do that. They think they’re helping themselves by being upbeat all the time when they need to face the bad stuff, too.”

“Toxic positivity,” she says and then laughs. “Sorry, is this a therapy session? How did we get on this deep topic?”

“I don’t mind being deep,” I say.

She doesn’t answer right away. She looks off in the distance, toward my truck. “I used to smile through everything. I thought if I stayed positive, it would help me get through the hard moments. I smiled when Nolan’s dad walked out, and when I was so lonely, I couldn’t sleep at night. I never let anyone see my pain. Not my family and not my friends.”

I glance at her. The air between us shifts—slows.

“It felt safer that way,” she adds, almost like she’s talking to herself. “If I kept it light, maybe I wouldn’t fall apart.”

I stretch my fingers as I walk. “Yeah. I get that.”

“You do?”

“When I was a kid, my dad left. I figured if I didn’t cry, it wouldn’t hurt as much. I decided it didn’t matter, except it did. And I carried that mindset into every aspect of my life.”

The air grows warmer between us.

“Well,” she finally murmurs. “Maybe that’s something we both need to work on.”

I glance at her. “Starting now?”

She gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. Starting now.”

I open the door to my truck when we arrive, and she climbs inside. Once I’m settled beside her, I call the restaurant and put in an order for delivery, getting her choices as well. “It should be there ten minutes after we arrive,” I say. We have to drive forty-five minutes to get back to Maple Creek.

“How’s your knee?” she asks.

“It’s fine.” It’s an automatic response.

“No, really. I saw you limping in the parking lot.”

She’s an observant one. I’d been so focused on the conversation that I’d let my guard down.

“I need to put some ice on it. It’s really swollen,” I admit.

“Maybe we can watch a movie while you prop it up and we eat our dinner.”

“I like how you think.” I back out of my parking space and head to the main road.

“I like going out to restaurants, but this sounds nice, too.”

“Are you hinting that you’d like me to take you to dinner?” I ask.

“Well,” she says in a flustered voice. “I meant in general, not you specifically.”

“I’d love to take you out,” I say in a serious voice.

“Then we should do it,” she says. “Have you been to Hadley’s?”

“No. Isn’t that the restaurant the actor owns?”

“Owen Hadley? Yes. He was in a bunch of blockbuster movies. We went to high school together. He and his wife spend most of their time in LA, but they still have businesses and loved ones in Maple Creek, so they come back often.”

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