Page 8 of The Goalie's Gamble
The room doesn’t argue, but the echo of kids’ laughter in the hall sounds like a counterpoint.
I keep typing.I’ve learned the trick to triage.You stop the bleeding first.You do not pause to catalog the color of the eyes attached to the man handing you the gauze.
And you definitely don’t let yourself wonder if he’ll show up early on Monday just to make you roll your eyes and then, God help you, smile.
THREE
CJ
I’ve survived playoff overtimes, bench-clearing brawls, and one very drunk bachelor party in Vegas that involved a mechanical bull and a mariachi band, but nothing, and I mean nothing, makes me sweat like being told I have to be “on time” to community service.
Usually, I’m not the most punctual person, but I don’t want to upset Olivia.There’s just something about her… I couldn’t stop thinking about her last night, and it’s not just because she’s drop-dead gorgeous.Something about her no-nonsense attitude and the way she makes me work to earn a smile does it for me.
I’ve never paid much attention to women.I was too busy trying to be the best goalie in the league.Five minutes with Olivia though, and I can’t stop thinking about her.Her curves, those deep blue eyes, the sway of her hips…
Would she say yes if I asked her out?
I pull into the cracked lot outside the Maple Creek Youth Center two minutes early and feel like I deserve a medal.My phone buzzes with the team group chat blowing up, but I ignore it.I’m not giving Logan the satisfaction of chirping me for being late to mypunishment.
Besides, I’ve got bigger problems.Like the fact that Olivia Walker might murder me with a look if I screw this up.
I can’t let her down.
I take a breath, slap my Thunder cap backward, and head inside.
The gym smells like sneakers, popcorn, and kid energy.There are at least twenty of them running around, voices overlapping in a sound that feels weirdly alive, not annoying.Olivia stands near the office door, clipboard in hand, looking like the general of a very chaotic army.
Her eyes flick to me.Not impressed.Not unimpressed either.Just… evaluating.“You’re early.”
I clutch my chest.“Finally, recognition for my punctuality.”
Her lips press together as she bites back a smile.
I grin and add a point to my side of the board.
“The kids are finishing homework.You’ll help in the gym afterward.”
“Homework?”I look around at the tables set up on one side of the gym.Fractions, spelling words, history flashcards.“That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
“For them or for you?”
“Yes.”
A kid in a Thunder jersey, maybe twelve, pipes up.“Hey!You’re CJ Morgan!”
I grin, dropping into the seat across from him.“The one and only.What’s your name?”
“Ethan.”His eyes are wide.“You stopped that penalty shot from Carter in overtime last year.”
“That’s me,” I say, lowering my voice conspiratorially.“Want me to tell you a secret?”
He leans forward.
“I had no idea where the puck was.I just flinched in the right direction.”
Ethan laughs so loud that half the room turns.
His buddy jabs him with a pencil.“Told you he wasn’t that good.”
