Page 19 of Goal Line
“Hey, son,” he says, and I swallow down the guilt at how I was just thinking about his daughter’s body. If he had anyidea how I feel about her, hedefinitelywouldn’t trust me the way he does. “You sure you don’t mind Eva staying another night? I can come and pick her up if you need some space?”
“I’m positive,” I say, laughing to myself at how much Idon’twant her to leave.Ever.
Is it hard having her here as a friend, when I have always wanted so much more than that with her? Obviously. Would I trade the moments I get to spend with her for...anything? Not a chance.
“All right. So tell me about this meeting with AJ.” The way he says it, as an invitation instead of a demand, makes me comfortable opening up.
“You didn’t know she wanted to meet with me?”
“No, but she meets with players all the time, and there’s no reason I would need to know. The general manager’s job is not the coach’s purview. Are you worried?”
I glance at Eva, not really wanting to admit in front of her how nervous I am about this meeting. But I don’t want to lie. “Yeah, a bit.”
“I wouldn’t be, if I were you,” he says. “I’ve talked to her about the game, and the only thing she’s concerned about is your well-being. That was a tough loss. It was a shit way to end the game and the season—for you, and for the team. Everyone is disappointed that we didn’t win the Cup, but Luke, no one ismadat you about it. Least of all, AJ.”
I snort out a laugh. “I have a hard time believing that.” Especially since I haven’t heard from any of my teammates since we got off the plane in Boston over a week ago. Not one text. Not one call.
After the amount of time we spent together these last few months—not just practicing and playing together, buthanging out off the ice too—their silence is a concerning change.
“Be that as it may, I’m telling you the god’s honest truth, son. So lick your wounds in private if you need to, but go into that meeting tomorrow with your head held high. AJ didn’t bring you onto this team because she thought you were already the best player you could be. She did it because she knows you’ve got a lot of growth ahead of you. Show her you still do.”
“How do I do that?” I mutter.
“You figure out how to put that game in the past andmove on. Youlearnfrom what happened without dwelling on it. Believe it or not, every player’s been where you are at some point in their career. Those who can’t move past it, generally don’t keep playing. Iwantyou to keep playing, and I’m assuming you want that too?”
“Yeah.” I let out a deep breath, because that might be the first time I’ve actually admitted that to myself. I’ve been playing the end of that game back in my mind, over and over, thinking there’s no way AJ would want to keep me on the team after that. No way Charlie would still want me to play for him. No way my teammates would be able to forgive me. But maybe...maybe the first thing that needs to happen is forgiving myself? And then I can prove to myself, my teammates, Charlie, and AJ that I still deserve a place on this team.
“Good,” Charlie says. “So let’s move on, then.”
“What do you think Lizzie would have done if Darcy had come out of that pond with no clothes on?” Eva laughs, her head shaking the pillows on my lap. It’s taking all my focus not to let my body react—her head’s basically on my dick and her laughter is sending vibrations through the pillows. If she doesn’t stop that, she’s going to be resting her head on my hard-on.
Goddamn, this is like being right back in high school again with the way I’m lusting after her nonstop. Back then, I had to watch her flirt with just about every guybutme.At least now, I don’t have to see that shit in real time...though the evidence of her “Italian affair” is growing more apparent every day.
“Honestly? Her poor little virgin heart probably would’ve had a heart attack at the sight, and she’d be buried at Pemberley,” I say. “Darcy would secretly visit her grave every day, leaving her flowers and pining after a life that could have been if he hadn’t been such a snob.”
Eva turns her head and looks up at me, laughing—but that smile quickly turns to a wince as she reaches behind her and presses the heel of her hand into her lower back. “Shit.”
“Muscle spasm?” I ask, moving her hand out of the way. I dig my thumb into the tense cord of muscle, moving along it like I did throughout the first episode ofPride and Prejudicehours ago.
She sighs, her lips parting and her eyes closing, and fuck me if she doesn’t look like she’s having a sexual experience. The groan she releases has me even more on edge.
I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my high-rise condo and realize that it’s almost fully dark. I’m about to suggest we order dinner when Eva says, “I feel so fuckinghelpless right now. I couldn’t even take my own skates off today, and I can barely move without my back spasming—all because I did a spin I’ve done a thousand times before and got dizzy. Is this going to happen every time I skate? How are Christopher and I going to train?”
“It was just unlucky timing. You probably had low blood sugar because you didn’t eat anything before we skated. We’ll ask the doctor tomorrow.”
I hadn’t really known where to start in terms of helping Eva find an OB, so I’d texted our team doctor because I figured she’d have a recommendation. Not that recommending obstetricians is a normal part of being a doctor in the NHL, but I couldn’t exactly ask one of my teammates who has kids, and I figured Dr. D’Angelis was bound by HIPAA not to tell anyone else about my request.
She’d texted me back, letting me know her best friend was an OB and asked if I needed her to get me an appointment quickly. Lo and behold, we have something scheduled for lunchtime tomorrow. I don’t even want to guess what she thinks of my request.
“We?” Eva asks.
“Or you, if you don’t want me to come with you.”
It’s totally understandable if she doesn’t want you at that appointment with her, I remind myself. I don’t know why I even want to be there—it’s notmybaby. But it’s Evie’s, and I want to be there for her.
“I do,” she says, her voice sounding small and quiet. “Want you there, I mean. Suddenly, this all feels...too much. I thought I could handle this...skating, competing, being a mom. And now I’m worried that it’s too big of a challenge. What if I let him down?”
“Let who down? Christopher?” I ask, trying to soften the hard edge in my voice that reveals exactly how I feel about him. But I hear it, and I’m sure she does too.
