Page 71 of The Girlfriend Goal
Me:Your friend started it.
Her:Fair point. Are they...?
Me:Making out in the lobby? Yes.
Her:Good for them... We're not them.
Me:I know.
Her:Just making sure we're clear.
Me:Crystal.
Chapter 29: Rachel
The morning after truth or dare arrived with a vengeance. I woke to the sound of Jared singing in the shower—badly—which meant he'd definitely spent the night in Matt's room. The walls in this cabin were criminally thin, and I'd heard enough to know that their ‘talk’ had gone very well.
I dragged myself out of bed, determined to restore some semblance of normalcy to this trip. The kiss yesterday had been a mistake, a public acknowledgment of something that should’ve stayed private. The way Lance had looked at me afterward—soft and hopeful and so genuinely caring—had kept me up half the night.
The kitchen was blessedly empty when I entered, giving me time to make coffee and gather my defenses before facing anyone. I'd gotten through exactly one sip when Jared floated in, looking like a Disney character who'd just discovered love.
"Good morning, sunshine." He twirled to the coffee maker. "Isn't it a beautiful day?"
"It's cloudy and you hate mornings," I pointed out.
"Not anymore." He sighed dreamily. "Did you know Matt makes these little sounds when he—"
"Nope." I held up a hand. "Best friend code doesn’t require me to hear details about your sex life with Lance's best friend."
"But Rachel," he whined, "I need to process. And you're being emotionally constipated about your own situation, so let me have this."
"I'm not emotionally constipated."
"You're the definition of emotionally constipated. You kissed Lance in front of God and everyone yesterday and then fled like Cinderella if the prince had better abs."
"That's not—" I paused. "Actually, that's pretty accurate."
Jared abandoned his coffee to sit beside me, his expression turning serious. "Rachel, what are you so afraid of?"
The question hit deeper than he probably intended. "You know what happened with Brad."
"Brad was a controlling asshole who tried to make you smaller," Jared said firmly. "Lance looks at you like you're the entire solar system. There's a difference."
"Brad seemed great at first too," I said quietly. "Supportive, charming, said all the right things about my ambitions. Then slowly, so slowly I didn't notice at first, he started chipping away. Missing my games because of his own practice. Making comments about how much time I spent on soccer versus with him. Suggesting I could skip training to watch his lacrosse matches instead."
Jared's face darkened. I'd never told him the full extent of Brad's manipulation, but he was piecing it together.
"By the end," I continued, "I was so turned around I actually considered quitting soccer. Can you imagine? Everything I'd worked for, and I almost threw it away because he'd convinced me that supporting his dreams was more important than having my own."
"But you didn't quit," Jared reminded me. "You dumped his ass and won a championship."
"Only because you literally staged an intervention. You saw what was happening when I couldn't." I wrapped my handsaround my mug, seeking warmth. "I promised myself I'd never let that happen again. My career comes first. Always."
"Okay, but consider this wild possibility," Jared said gently. "What if you could have both? What if Lance actually wants to support your dreams, not replace them? Do you know what Matt told me last night? After thetalking?" Jared blushed but pushed through. "He said Lance has your Seattle interview date circled on his calendar. He's already looking at flight schedules to visit if you get it."
My heart did something complicated in my chest. "He what?"
"Yeah. Apparently he's been researching the team, the management structure, even apartment prices in Seattle. Not because he's trying to follow you or whatever, but because he wants to understand what you're working toward." Jared studied my face. "When's the last time Brad even asked about your five-year plan?"
