Page 33 of Her Goal
He chuckles. “Don’t you have another sibling?”
It’s not surprising that he remembers this given the fact that he lived on the other side of the wall in our duplex, but for some reason, my stomach bounces as if I’ve been on a trampoline, trying to set the world record, because out of the twins next door, I only ever had Hunter’s attention.
“My oldest sister, Danielle—Dani. I guess you could say she encapsulates the entirety of the Smith family. Already has four kids.”
Hudson leans back in shock. “Seriously?”
“She’s the oldest and has been married for twelve years—high school sweetheart.”
“So that makes you an aunt.”
I smile inside, thinking of my nieces and nephews. I may come across as an independent black cat, at least as far as the Roboveitchek brothers are concerned, but family means everything to me.
He wears atime fliesexpression. “Jack mentioned Chuck is getting married. That just leaves you and Valentina.”
I arch an eyebrow, not sure what he’s suggesting. “She is married. Her husband is in the military. Gets out this spring.”
Hudson points over his shoulder toward the rink. “But she was?—”
“She cannot help but flirt, but Grant is her world, so don’t get any funny ideas.”
He holds up his hands. “Wouldn’t dare.” Though that explains the faraway look in her eyes.
“Also, they’re expecting a baby in May, but he doesn’t know that yet.” I have no idea why I told Hudson. Maybe because it’s something I would’ve mentioned to Hunter.
His answer would’ve been something like,Good luck with that.Instead, Hudson smiles. “That’s exciting. Are they going to film the announcement like those videos when a soldier comeshome from deployment and his family surprises them? Those get me every time.”
Me too.
I sense that he’s teasing me, but he couldn’t possibly know that during my sleep rebellion social media scrolls, I often get choked up when I come across videos like that.
I’m well past the phase in my life when I would literally die when in public with my parents. My mother is just a big bundle of love in all its forms. She’ll hug you, tell you that you’re handsome, and then try to match you with one of her daughters. Unfortunately, I’m now her target, but she knows the pressure riles me up so she’s backed off recently. Either that or she’s given up on me ever being in a lasting relationship. Now, Abuela had to go and have one of “Chosen One” dreams—these are legendary in our family and supposedly, each one of the females in our family is destined to experience one for someone in their life: could be a relative, friend, or stranger. But the stories I’ve heard never resulted in an arranged marriage. More like a confirmation that the woman in question was with the right guy.
Hudson has his boots on and peels off his outer layer. As he tugs his shirt over his head, the hem lifts, revealing his abs.
A little burst of warmth rises through my belly and reaches my face.
I have a thing for hockey players, but not this one. Anyone but him. Even though I haven’t seen Hunter in years and could tell the twins apart at a hundred yards, it’s weird to feel a little spark inside when they’re nothing alike personality-wise. Well, they weren’t.
More than a few times, I’ve questioned whether I really knew Hunter at all.
Hudson’s eyes flick to mine. I quickly look away. Distracted, he caught me staring. My cheeks have showcased every shade of red this evening and now is no different.
As I get to my feet, his gaze grazes me from top to bottom. Warm from the lesson, I’m no longer wearing my vest. I shoot him a couple of eye daggers to emphasize that I don’t want him to get any funny or flirty ideas with the lone-wolf, single Smith sibling.
Instead of going to the locker room, like a puppy dog, Hudson follows me toward the Ice Palace’s main concourse, flanked by concession stands, the merch and pro shops, and swanky lounge areas similar to those in a conference center.
I’m keenly aware of him matching my pace and the relative silence that permeates the usually noisy building. My ping-ponging thoughts more than make up for it.
When we reach the lobby and the big glass doors, I pause and say, “You don’t have to go.”
“I’ve already been here all day, so?—”
“I mean to the anniversary party.”
“Wouldn’t want to be rude?”
“Seriously, it’s chaos. You never came over for our family events when we were neighbors.”
