Page 52 of Romancing My Grumpy Goalie

Frustration laces his voice when he speaks. “That’s what I’m trying to do, but you won’t tell me what your problem is.”

I sigh. “I ruin everything.”

“Trouble with Anabelle?”

He throws the Gatorade to me, and I catch it.

“It’s more than that. I’ve been doing it my entire life.” I’ve never admitted this to Jace before. “I wasn’t exactly the easiest kid for Mom and Dad. It’s no wonder he left.”

“You think Dad left because of you?” Jace sounds shocked. “Dad left because he was a selfish loser who ran away from his responsibilities.”

I’ve never allowed myself to accept that before.

“Even if that’s true, I’ve still ruined Anabelle’s life.”

His brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”

“I broke it off with her because Nolan’s dad saw the viral video, and now he’s threatening to take legal action if I don’t stay away. I can’t do that to Anabelle.”

“Who says that guy can do anything? He’s the one who skipped town. You think a court will like that? Moms are allowed to date,” Jace says. “Women with kids get remarried all the time. Maybe you should consider that before running away. You’ll be doing the same thing to Nolan that Dad did to us. Remember how terrible that was? I’ve seen you with Nolan. His whole face lights up when he sees you. And Anabelle’s does, too. You could have something real here, and all you want to do is run away from it. What if you’re chasing the wrong dream, Lucas?”

I grip the bottle in my hands until the plastic digs into me. “What are you talking about? I’ve fought for this dream since before Dad left. I can’t abandon it.”

“You were miserable when you were with the Arsenal. Would it be so wrong to stay? Maybe your future isn’t on the field anymore.”

I shake my head and walk away from him. I’m not saying he’s wrong.

But I need time to think. Because right now, I have no idea what I’m doing.

SEVENTEEN

ANABELLE

I tuckmy skirt beneath me in the chair I’m sitting in and wipe my sweaty palms on my dress. Secretively, so the loan officer doesn’t notice. Because that would be gross.

He looks up from his monitor and stares at my hands.

Great. He noticed. He doesn’t comment, though. Instead, he types more on his computer.

I’ve given him every detail I can think of to get this loan so I can buy the antique mall. I deserve this. I’ve put my heart and soul into this business, and I’ve made sure he understood that. Because people have good hearts in this town. They want small businesses to thrive, right?

I got the idea to apply for the loan from Aubrey yesterday, so we sat down together and came up with a business plan I can present to the loan officer. I did all the research I could on how to put it together, and I couldn’t be more ready.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It looks like you were denied.”

I ball my skirt up in my hands, probably wrinkling the fabric, so I walk out with a weird bunched up spot. It’ll match the sweat stains I’ve created on my shirt.

“Can you tell me why?” I dressed up and everything. Doesn’t that count for something?

“It looks like you don’t have enough profits coming in or enough cash reserves. And it’s not great that your current location has such low traffic.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your time.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it wobbles a bit. I walk out with my head held high, and I even smile to Mrs. Bowen, Layla’s mom, who has worked here for as long as I can remember. She’s as bad of a matchmaker as Aubrey’s mom, and the two women are besties. She looks at me with sympathy in her eyes. She must have overheard my loan denial. Great. At least she can’t tell everyone about my situation. Confidentiality and all that jazz.

I grip the steering wheel as I drive home, and tears run down my face. I’ve really failed this time. I ran off Lucas, and I have no way to pull my family out of the situation we’re in. I may have to sell the shop and go back to school. But I don’t know what I’d want to study or what career I’d want to have. All my life I’ve wanted to run this store. This loan was my opportunity to take my dream to the next level.

And now Lucas isn’t talking to me at all. He’s not responding to any of my texts. This day couldn’t get any worse.

When I approach my store, a crowd of people, both men and women, stand around the parking lot of the textile factory across the street.

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