Page 41 of Goalie and the Girl Next Door
I nod. “It’s not getting any better.”
“Seems you need my help more than I thought!” Lucian takes a sip of champagne and tilts his head. “We can’t have our goalie smashing himself in before our first game.”
“Too true.” I take a big bite of cupcake and ponder whether anyone would notice if I took a third one. I suspect they might. “She’s a tough one, but she’s truly lived. I love her structure and she’s got amazing bones. I just need to finda way to—quite literally—break down her walls without causing damage.”
“You talk about that house like it’s your girlfriend.”
“Non,” I say, smiling. “The house is older, more stubborn, and far more forgiving.”
He laughs. “So you do love it.”
“I do,” I say without hesitation. “That house is everything I imagined when I was a kid.”
Lucian’s eyebrows go up. “You dreamed of buying a rundown American fixer-upper as a child in Paris?”
“Oui,” I say. “An old house on a quiet street. A big porch. Maple trees. Maybe a dog. And a woman who calls me out when I talk too much. The kind with sharp eyes and a laugh she doesn’t give away easily. Maybe have a couple of bilingual kids who think baseball is confusing and eat croissants with peanut butter.”
Weston whistles low. “That’s… oddly specific.”
“I watched a lot of American films,” I say. “The kind with denim jackets and Fourth of July parades. And I always imagined I’d live in one of those little towns where everyone knows your name, where you fix up an old house with your hands, and?—”
“—marry the small-town librarian?” Lucian offers.
“Or the accountant,” I say before I can stop myself.
They both stare at me. I grab another cupcake and pretend not to notice. The last thing I need is them teasing me when this feels like it just might be real.
CHAPTER 15
MARCY
“You know,” Angel says, looping her arm through mine as we walk toward the arena’s main doors, “this is the very place we had our first kiss.”
“Here we go,” I mutter under my breath, but with a big smile none-the-less.
“You were magnificent,” Scotty pipes up. “I’ll never in my life forget the way you grabbed my face and gave me what for.”
I cough on air. “Excuse me? She was telling you off during your first kiss?” These two have become hopeless romantics over the time they’ve been together. Watching their love blossom is “relationship goals” for me… for later, that is.
“I needed the pep talk.” Scotty smiles and looks off in the distance. “I didn’t know what was good for me then. Fortunately, I smartened up pretty quick.” He shrugs. “Takes a real man to admit when he’s outmatched by a woman half his size and twice as smart.” He loops his arm through Angel’s other arm and the three of us walk into the arena like Dorothy, theTin Man, and the Lion on the yellow brick road. “Look what they’ve done with the place!”
“I’ve lived here for years,” I say, “and only ever once been inside. And it sure didn’t look like this.”
Angel leans closer. “You’re gonna love it.”
I nod and try not to trip over the suddenly too-shiny floor. My heels are black, sensible, and currently mutinying against the balls of my feet.
My dress is black too. Long sleeves. Subtle shimmer. Simple enough not to draw attention, but tailored enough to suggest I know what I’m doing—which I don’t. I picked the silver pendant my mom gave me after graduation. It sits just at the hollow of my throat like a reminder to stay grounded.
“You look great,” Angel says. “Like someone who could file taxes and kill a man in the same night.”
“That’s precisely what I was going for.”
Scotty hands me a champagne flute with unnecessary ceremony. I take it with a sigh and stare into the bubbles.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” I mutter.
“Let’s see,” Angel says. “Either because the mayor’s daughter told you to come or because Clément asked you nicely.”
