Page 57 of Hitting the Goal Line
“So, you didn’t mean to say that I’m pretty?” I joke, an eyebrow rising for affect.
The man is taken aback by my response and stumbles with what to say. “No, I mean you’re very pretty, fucking gorgeous, I just didn’t mean for it to come out when it did,” he pauses andthen shakes his head before holding out a hand. “Let’s start over. Hi, Elijah, the man that should be looking where is going when entering a hospital. I would like to also state that I do in fact think that you are pretty.”
I let out a small giggle and place my hand in his to shake. “Nice to meet you, Elijah. I’m Sophia. Someone who also should also be looking where they are going and I would like to also state that I was joking with the whole pretty comment.”
“A jokester, a hockey fan, and an all-around beauty. My kind of woman,” Elijah states, throwing a wink in my direction.
If I wasn’t blushing before, I am now.
Our gazes lock for a few seconds and as much as I don’t want to break it, I have to if I want to make it to the game on time.
“I should get going,” I say, nodding toward the street.
“Right, I should to. Maybe if we don’t see each other at the game, we can grab a coffee or a drink sometime,” he offers, his smile causing butterflies in my stomach.
I smile back. “I would like that.”
“Great, let me have your number and we can set something up.”
He pulls out his phone and hands it over to me so that I can enter my phone number. The second that I do and hand it back to him, he presses the call button so that I have his number in mine.
“It was nice meeting you, Sophia.” Elijah says, after everything is all said and done.
“It was nice meeting you, too.” I give him a wave and start walking away.
When I’m a block away, my mind finally puts together everything that just happened.
I got a guy’s number.
Not only that, but I also felt butterflies, something that I’ve only felt with one other person and that has always been, Blake. Maybe, just maybe, my crush on my best friend is going away.
And if it is, I should grab at the opportunity.
Maybe…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BLAKE
Someone deservesa good kick in the ass. Or a punch in the throat. I’m good with giving them both. Especially to that fucker that decided to punch me in the nose during game four of the Stanley Cup finals and ultimately, broke it.
Now, half my face is bruised and if we win tonight, pictures of me with a broken nose will forever live on. At least they will go well with my draft pictures. There’s no doubt in my mind that my mom is going yell at me every time she’ll see a picture, even if it wasn’t my fault.
“Dude, your nose looks absolutely disgusting,” Christian, my teammate and left wringer for the Knights, says to me as I try to clean up my nose as best I can before the game. It’s still oozing even days after it’s been set.
“I know. Imagine how I feel. I almost puked the other day when Sophia was helping me clean it up,” I tell him, seeing him gag a little bit in the mirror as I do.
I guess the big broody, asshole has a weakness.
“I still can’t believe that Anderson is letting you play. That has to be a hazard or something,” Christian throws out, Pulling his jersey over his head.
“I begged him to play. Fuck that two-week bullshit. And after getting him his favorite bottle of scotch, he said yes. Besides, it’s game seven of the finals, we need all hands-on deck. He would be stupid to not let me get off the bench,” I say, giving him a smile that he just rolls his eyes at.
“Ass kisser,” Christian throws out.
I have my rebuttal on the tip of my tongue when my phone goes off with a text notification. I usually tend to turn off my phone a few hours before a game, but today, I left it on, just in case Hunter needed to reach me.
Liam, our team captain, has a baby on the way, and said baby is literally days from coming, and instead of his baby mama, Chloe, staying at home and watching the game from the confront of her own couch, she has decided to come to every single home game this playoff season.
