Page 26 of Goal Line
“Did you ask her about skating?” I ask her.
“Yeah, she said I’m fine to keep going until I’ve more significantlypopped.She said I also need to eat more protein and religiously take my vitamins and supplements so I don’tlet my iron get low again. I don’t know...all this makes me wonder if I shouldn’t hop on a plane back to LA so Christopher and I can get some more training in before I can’t anymore. Losing this time on the ice seems...irresponsible, given that I’ll get to a point where I’ll be forced to stop skating. Shouldn’t I take advantage of every moment Idohave to train?”
Noooooo.The thought erupts from my soul and reverberates through every part of my being. I thought she’d be here forat leasta month and hoped maybe she’d stay through her whole pregnancy. I don’t want to lose one second with her.
“I also need to figure out my health insurance. If I stop skating, will I still have insurance?” She shakes her head. “And really, how am I going to tell my parents? I can’t even get myself to come up with a solid plan for that because I can’t figure out a way to not disappoint them. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. God, I’ve fucked everything up so badly!”
“Hey,” I say, standing and stepping between her legs so I can gather her up in my arms. She leans her head against my chest and her arms come around my lower back as she clings to me. Her shoulders shake with sobs, and I want to do something,anything, to make this better.
“What if we got married?” The suggestion is out of my mouth before the thought even fully forms in my head.
Holy shit. I did not just say that.
She freezes, then pulls back, looking up at me with her eyebrows raised into high peaks above her swollen eyes. Head tilting, she coughs out a laugh. “What?”
I swallow so deeply I can feel the muscles ripple along my neck, and I watch her eyes track the movement before hergaze returns to my face. And even though I didn’t intend to suggest marriage, even though I didn’t think it through before making that offer, now that it’s out there—the one thing I’ve always wanted but thought I could never have—I don’t want to take it back.
“Think about it, Evie,” I say, bringing my hands up to cup her shoulders. “It could be a mutually beneficial solution to both of our problems.”
“How so?”
The fact that she didn’t laugh in my face and say, “you flatter yourself,” has to be a good sign, right? She didn’t push me away or immediately put up barriers, like she normally does the moment she senses us inching beyond “just friends.”
“Well, if we got married, and then told everyone we were expecting a baby together, I think both our families would be thrilled. Plus, once the world knows about your pregnancy, it would make your change in the routine at the last competition more explicable, and fans would finally lose interest in you and Christopher being a couple. Plus, it would help explain my performance in Game 7.”
Her eyes widen the slightest bit as she gazes up at me, and that’s when I realize I’ve said too much. Now shehasto know that the way I played that night was because I was worried sick about her. And fuck, now if she says yes, it’s probably going to be out of guilt.
“So you’d be painted as the father-to-be who was distraught when he found out the mother of his child was rushed to the hospital,” she says slowly, working out the story we could tell. “I’d be painted as someone who pushed herself too hard, given my condition, because I didn’t want to let my partner down.”
I nod. “Mutually beneficial. No one needs to know how and why you got pregnant, and you wouldn’t need to worry about insurance or childcare or anything else, really. I’ll take care of you, Evie. Besides, our parents will bethrilled.Mine have been itching for grandchildren for years. Yours might still have concerns about your skating career and next year’s Olympics, but if they thought this baby wasours, conceived after years of friendship that grew into something more...” I say as my fingertips slide across her shoulders and up the sides of her neck so I can cup her jaw in my hands. “I don’t think anyone would question it.”
Her cheeks push up as she smiles and lets out a bubbly laugh. “No, I agree. We could probably convince everyone that this is our love child.”
I’m about to ask her if it’s because the two of us are so good at making people believe our ridiculous stories, or if it’s because our friends and family have always wondered whether there’s more to our friendship than we’ve ever admitted, when she says, “But I feel like I’d be taking advantage of you.”
“How so?” I run my thumbs along her cheekbones as I try to figure out why she looks sad all of a sudden.
“Because what doIbring to this marriage?Youprovide me with healthcare, and I live here with you.Youmake it so that I don’t have to admit how I really got pregnant, which gives me cover from the fans who would otherwise suspect I had cheated on Christopher. Instead of looking like an irresponsible harlot, I’m a woman in a secret relationship with her best friend, not with her skating partner like everyone thought. My dad will be thrilled, and hopefully my mom will be a little less mad than she would’ve been otherwise. Asidefrom still having to figure out how to train and compete, this solves allmyproblems. What doyouget out of it?”
You.
The thought of Eva hopping on a plane back to LA to start training again—with Christopher Fucking Steele, no less—makes me nauseous.
Iknowshe’s never going to feel the same way about me as I feel about her, but all good marriages are built on friendship. In fact, our long history and the way we’ve always been there for each other over the years—even when living on opposite coasts and sometimes in different countries—probably makes our marriage more likely to survive than most. Don’t all marriages eventually just turn into deep, abiding friendships anyway, once that initial passion burns out?
“Besides making sure you’re taken care of, I get the media off my back about Game 7. I give them a plausible story to explain my performance that night, and I give them something else to focus on. And most importantly”—I glance away so she won’t see my shame—“a grandchild, here in Boston, gives my dad a reason to keep me on the team.”
Her eyebrows pinch at that. “What? Why would your dad not keep you on the team?”
I wasn’t planning on telling her what I’d overheard—not yet anyway. And I probably shouldn’t say anything until I’ve had some time to process it. But I’m just desperate enough to findanythingthat will keep her here with me and, on the off chance this is it, I have to bring it up.
“This morning, I overheard him talking to AJ. He said the Game 7 loss was exactly why he didn’t want her to bring me to Boston in the first place.”
Eva’s face falls and she leans forward, tightening her armsaround my back to pull me against her. My hands move to the nape of her neck as she rests her forehead against my chest. “Luke...I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too,” I tell her, staring at the gray wall behind her, my voice flat as I force myself not to give in to these emotions—otherwise, I’ll probably end up fucking crying in this room with her.
She gives me another squeeze, then sits back and looks up at me. “I think we both need to think about this a little more. There are probably factors we’re not considering.”
