Page 18 of Goal Line
“Evie!” Luke lunges for me.
I’m afraid he’s going to pull me up to standing and that it’ll hurt worse, so I say, “Don’t!” right before he touches me. With my hands resting on my knees so I can keep my lower back stretched out, I tell him, “Just, give me a minute.”
“What happened?”
“My back seized up.”
“You probably hurt it when you landed on your ass.”
“I didn’tlandon my ass. I sat down because I was dizzy.”
“Sure looked to me like you fell.”
I note his teasing tone and recognize this as a distraction technique. “If you remember, before the dizziness got in the way, I was skating circles around you.”
“Sure you were. Do I need to carry you off the ice?”
I take a deep breath, knowing that it’s going to hurt like hell to stand back up, but that I can’t exactly go about the rest of my day bent over like this. “Could you just give me your hand for balance?”
He extends his hand in front of me, and I gingerly take it, first with one hand, and then with the other, before he raises it slowly so I can bring myself up to standing.
“You need me to help you off the ice?” he asks.
I nod. “Just...slowly pull me along, please. I think the backward motion of pushing off my left skate messed me up, and I don’t want to risk it by trying again.”
He gets me over to the door, and then steps over the ledge onto the rubber mats that line the walkway in front of the stands. I stand on the ice, trying to figure out which will hurt less: lifting and stepping up with my left leg, or leading with my right, and then bringing my left along after.
“How about if I just lift you over it?” Luke asks. Before I can even respond, he brings his hands under my armpits, lifts me straight up, steps backward, and sets me on the rubber flooring.
I try to ignore the way his wrists graze my breasts as he lets me go, but that’s the most action I’ve seen in five months, and my body definitely takes note.
No,I tell myself.I’m not going there with Luke. Ever.
I know it’s just the pregnancy hormones. I feel like I’ve been raring to go for months now—a more than moderatedisappointment, given that I don’t have anyone in my life to fulfill those needs. And there’s no reason to get my body’s hopes up because I already know Luke doesn’t feel that way about me. Not at all.
He clears his throat, like he can tell I’m imagining what his hands would feel like on me, and my cheeks and neck grow hot in response. “Need some help getting your skates off?”
Chapter Nine
LUKE
“I’m fine, Dad, really,” Eva says into the phone. She has her finger pressed against her other ear, like there’s some background noise she’s trying to block out, but the TV’s currently muted for her phone call. “It just hurts to sit directly on my butt, so I don’t want to make the drive home today. I’m fine here at Luke’s for another night. He’ll just bring me home tomorrow.”
She pauses, and reaches over to the coffee table and plucks a peach ring out of the package I left there for her.
“Yep, it’s fine,” she says. “He has a meeting in the morning with AJ—” She stops suddenly, and it seems like Charlie has interrupted her, but her eyes widen as she glances over at me. I glance down quickly, stirring her favorite drink—mint tea with a splash of lemonade—hoping she didn’t just catch me staring at her.
I love having her around, especially since so much time passes between visits. But I didn’t consider what it would belike to have her in my space like this. Past summers, we’ve spent tons of time together, but it was always at one of our childhood homes, surrounded bychildhoodmemories. There were almost always other people around, and now, I’m painfully aware of howtogetherthe two of us are.
Last night, when she walked out into my living room, looking so damn gorgeous in that dress, I almost made a fucking fool of myself. I don’t think she realizes how her body’s already changing...but I do. Her hair is longer and glossier than before. Her skin glows, her breasts are bigger, and her hips are curvier.
She’s always been pretty, but that’s never been the thing I loved about her. It’s the way she’s stronger than she realizes, determined without being stubborn, a perfect mixture of grace and athleticism, and funny as hell. Even though her exterior persona can come across as cool and indifferent, she’s got an amazing heart and makes me smile like nobody else can.
I bring the mug of tea around the kitchen island and walk over to where she’s lying on my couch, propped up with pillows and a heating pad across her lower back.
“My dad wants to talk to you,” she says, handing me the phone while rolling her eyes and mouthingSorry.
Handing her the mug, I take her phone. “Hey, Coach.” My whole life I’ve called Eva’s dad by his first name—Uncle Charlie when I was a kid, then Charlie when I was older. But since I started playing for him, it feels weird to call him anything but Coach, even when we’re not doing something hockey related.
