Page 94 of The Girlfriend Goal
"I don't want that either." Lance took my hands with a smile. "I fell in love with the driven, ambitious, occasionallyterrifying woman who runs soccer drills like military operations. Your dreams aren't competition for mine, Rachel. They're part of what I'm building toward."
"That's beautiful," Jared sniffled. "Matt, take notes."
"I literally said something identical last week!"
"You said 'your thing is cool too, babe.' Not quite the same impact."
I laughed despite the emotion clogging my throat. "You really want to try long distance?"
"I want to try everything with you," Lance said simply. "Distance, time zones, whatever. As long as we're trying together."
"It'll be hard. We'll have to communicate constantly."
He kissed me quiet, soft but thorough. "Rachel. I'd rather have you three thousand miles away than not have you at all. Stop looking for reasons this won't work and help me figure out how it will."
"Okay, let's try." The word felt huge, life-changing. "But if you trade me for a Florida beach bunny, I'll murder you with my cleats."
"Noted. Same goes for Seattle tech bros."
"Deal."
"Finally!" Matt exclaimed. "Can we go get hangover breakfast now? All this emotional resolution is making me hungry."
"Pancakes?" Jared perked up. "The place with the good syrup?"
"Obviously."
They bustled around, gathering wallets and arguing about proper hangover food. Lance pulled me closer, speaking low in my ear.
"For the record, the jersey thing? Incredibly hot. Might be my new kink."
"Just the jersey?" I teased.
"You declaring your love in front of twenty thousand people didn't hurt either."
"I'm never living that down, am I?"
"Nope." He kissed my temple. "I'm gonna remind you every time you try to run. 'Remember when you claimed me on national television?'"
"I did not claim you."
"The video evidence suggests otherwise."
"I hate you."
"You love me. You announced it on ESPN."
I did. God help me, I did.
That night, after pancakes and naps and more conversations about logistics, we made love. No rushing, no desperation, just the quiet certainty that we'd chosen each other.
Later, tangled together in the dark, I traced patterns on his chest while he played with my hair.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"That I'm scared," I admitted. "But for the first time, being scared doesn't make me want to run. Also thinking about how your dad's going to react to that kiss being everywhere."
"Probably already spinning it as proof of his excellent parenting creating a son capable of love." Lance's voice heldmore amusement than bitterness. "Let him. I got the girl and the championship. He can't touch that."
