Page 20 of The Goalie's Gamble
“What about family?Any siblings?”
“No.You?”
“No.How’d you land on a career as a youth center director?”
“I always liked kids.I initially wanted to be a teacher, but when I got to college, things changed.I remembered the youth center from when I was a kid, so I switched my major and decided to go into the charity and philanthropic sector.”
“That’s cool.Very noble of you.”
“Thanks,” I say drily.“What about you?Was it always hockey?”
“Oh, yeah.My parents said I was skating before I learned to walk.I would race home, lace up my skates, and go practice.My parents would have to yell at me to get me to come in once it was dark.”
“Pure love,” I murmur.
“It was.Still is.”
“You’re lucky to have always known what you wanted and to be able to do it every day,” I tell him.
“I know.”
Our food is dropped off, and we both dig in.We talk about favorite colors, seasons, and vacations.I relax as CJ tells me funny stories about his childhood and his teammates.My brain turns off from worrying about bills and grants, and for the first time in forever, I allow myself to fully live in the moment.I’m… happy.
CJ pays the bill and stands, taking my hand and leading me out to his car.A few fans spot him, and he stops to take pictures and sign autographs.Then he heads back to me and opens the passenger door, helping me into the seat.
“Where to?”he asks as he climbs behind the wheel.
I fasten my seatbelt.“You can drop me off at the center.”
“Is your car there?I didn’t see any others in the lot when we left.”
“No, I walked today, but I can walk home.”
He scoffs.“Not a chance, Princess Angel Baby.”
“It’s fine, and don’t call me that,” I remind him.
He shakes his head, starts up the car, and reverses out of the parking spot.“Which way?”
I give him directions back to my place.Five minutes later, he pulls up out front, and I unbuckle quickly.
“I’ll walk you in.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” I insist, but he’s already climbing out of the car.
CJ opens my door, and I dig my keys out of my purse.We head up the front steps of my apartment building in silence, and he follows me up the stairs to the second floor.
“Thanks for tonight,” I tell him as we stop outside my apartment.“I had fun.”
“Anytime.”
We’re silent for a minute as I shove the key into the lock.
“Are you going to invite me in?”
I snort.“Not a chance.”
“Oh,” he says, all mock innocence.
