Page 76 of The Girlfriend Goal
After the meeting, Matt cornered me. "Tell me that's not—"
"It is," I confirmed.
I pulled out my phone, then hesitated. Rachel and I were supposed to be taking things slow. Was warning her about her ex constituting rushing? Was not warning her worse?
"Just tell her," Matt advised, reading my mind. "Rip the band-aid off."
But I didn't get the chance. By the time practice ended and I made it to the psych building where Rachel had class, she was already gone. A text saying she had emergency soccer stuff kept me from tracking her down, and then I had my own team obligations.
It wasn't until that evening's athletic mixer—a mandatory schmoozing event where all the sports programs pretended to like each other—that everything went to hell.
I spotted Rachel across the room, looking professional and gorgeous in a blazer that made me want to mess up her perfectly styled hair. She was talking to some administrator about funding equity, gesturing passionately in that way that meant someone was about to get schooled.
I started toward her, but a familiar voice stopped me cold.
"Lance fucking Fletcher. Heard you would be here."
"Brad," I acknowledged, turning slowly.
"Making a name for yourself here, I hear. NHL scouts sniffing around." He clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to sting.
His eyes scanned the room and landed on Rachel. Something shifted in his expression, a predatory interest that made my jaw clench.
"Well, well. Rachel Fox. Looking good, babe."
The casual endearment hit like a slap. I watched Rachel's entire body go rigid as Brad approached her, her animated conversation cutting off mid-sentence.
"Brad," she said, voice carefully neutral.
"Missed you," he said, moving into her space with the confidence of someone who'd done it a thousand times before. "Heard you won championships. Always knew you had it in you."
She stepped back, but he followed.
"We should catch up. Grab coffee, like old times."
"I don't think so."
"Come on, Rachel." His hand found her arm, and I saw the moment she froze. "Don't be like that. Water under the bridge, right?"
I moved before I could think about it, inserting myself between them with all the subtlety of a body check.
"Hey," I said to Rachel, ignoring Brad entirely. "We have that thing."
Her eyes met mine, and I saw relief flash across her face.
"With my girl?" Brad asked.
"I'm not your girl," Rachel said sharply. "Haven't been for a long time."
"Semantics," Brad dismissed. "We had something special, Rachel. Worth revisiting now that I'm back."
"We had nothing," Rachel said, but I could hear the slight tremor in her voice. "And I have no interest in revisiting anything."
"You say that now—"
"She said no," I interrupted, my patience finally snapping. "Pretty clearly. So maybe back off."
Brad's expression hardened. "And maybe you should mind your own business. This is between Rachel and me."
