Page 27 of The Boyfriend Goal

My eyes bug out. “I can’t afford that on my starting salary.” I wouldn’t be able to afford that for many years. If ever.

“No worries. He thought you might say that. More good news is this—he’s got a one-bedroom that you can share with three other people as long as he doesn’t disclose how many are on the lease. Plus, there’s a bathroom down the hall for you all to share.”

I stop, lean against the wall of Better With Pockets, and close my eyes for a beat. When I open them and look down, my chest is bleeding right above the neckline of my shirt. Great. Just great. The cactus has pricked me.

“Thanks, Barry. But I’ll have to pass,” I say, then hang up.

My throat tightens as my chest bleeds into my white shirt. Tears well behind my eyes. From Frieda’s insults to the cactus attack to the terrible news, I can’t deal anymore with my upside-down luck that seems to flip-flop by the day.

My eyes sting, but I suck back tears and stab my brother’s name. I hate doing this. I truly do. Especially now when he has his hands full.

I call my brother.

Christian’s blue eyes are tired but also pleased. The gold flecks in them almost seem to be twinkling. Which is a weird reaction to me telling him my sob story on the back deck of his spacious home on California Street, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, as he holds Cooper while Caleb nurses inside with Liv. But I try not to read anything into his reaction—he’s a new dad and is also in the starting lineup for tomorrow’s season opener. He has a lot on his plate. Which is why I wish I didn’t have to come to him.

“Don’t worry, Jay,” he says, reassuringly. “I’ll help you out.”

I look at him with still-wet eyes. I can’t believe I’m crying over a lost rental. But it’s not only the rental falling through. It’s how much I want this job. I’m three days in and I already love it. I don’t want to lose it simply because I have no place to stay. Jobs like this are hard to come by. Cities like San Francisco, though, are even harder to live in.

Maeve volunteered to let me stay with her, but her place is too small. And, well, The Kid haunts it. So here I am, with a Band-Aid on my chest, a bloody shirt, and an attacking cactus, asking my brother for help. I hate asking anyone in my family but my aunt for anything.

But I have no choice.

9

A SECRET ROOM UNDER THE STAIRCASE

Wesley

The scarf in the bag is safe and sound on the backseat of my car. I’ve got a plan to drop it off tomorrow morning at the yellow apartment building. Saturday seems like a good day for something like that, when it’s late morning and the sun is up. I can leave it in the foyer with other packages at her place.

It’ll be the perfect morning activity after we win tonight since I fully plan for us to leave the ice victorious.

I’ve been eating my quinoa and squash, been following my exercise regimen, been working on strength and conditioning all summer with the performance coach my dad hired. Hell, Dad and I met with him again today after the team’s morning skate so Dad could go over my workout routine with him for the season.

This will be your breakout year, he likes to say. Let’s set you up for long-term success.

Translation: let’s get you a no-trade clause.

Hell, I’d love a no-trade clause and the security that would come with it. I thought I’d had job security in New York. My stats were solid there, where I played for four and a half years. The trade surprised me, but I rolled with it. After a strong second half of the season last year when I joined the Sea Dogs as a winger, I want to show the coach on my new team why I belong on the first line.

For now, I go through my pre-game rituals. I’m parked in a chair in front of my stall, taping my stick, and chilling with the guys. I’ve been debating with Max and Asher whether we should get tickets for the Chappell Roan concert next week, since we’re all a little obsessed with her tunes, when Christian strides into the locker room looking like he’s got something on his mind.

Even though he just had kids earlier in the week, he’s playing on the first line for tonight’s game. That shouldn’t surprise me—him being here or playing well—since I don’t think he missed a game all last season. Guess he’s captain for a reason. The dude shows up and plays hard. He sets an example every goddamn day. I respect the hell out of him. I want to have a career like his.

Resting his arm against a stall, he clears his throat. “Good news. My sons are awesome. The three of us took a pre-game nap together today.”

Those are a must on game days.

Chase pumps a fist. “Starting the hockey training from day one,” he calls out from in front of his stall. “Well done, Winters.”

Christian nods then takes a deep breath. Yup, my instincts were right. He must be gearing up for a season-opener speech, and when he says, “Listen guys,” I’m sure he is. “I’ve got some more good news.”

He scratches his jaw, overrun by a five-day growth he probably hasn’t bothered to shave. “Great news, actually. My sister’s rental fell through,” he says, and he sounds pleased in a Machiavellian way. “And I couldn’t be happier. Her place wasn’t in a good neighborhood,” he says, then names the area. I cringe. My reaction does not go unnoticed by the captain. “You wouldn’t want your sisters staying there either. You’d only want your sisters staying someplace safe, right?”

There’s a collective yes from maybe half of us—the half of us who have sisters. Natalie and her girlfriend live in a nice place in Noe Valley, so I don’t worry about her.

But Ryker Samuels nods toward Christian, a grim look on his face. “That’s why I made sure Ivy moved into my place when I moved out way back when. Well, back when she was single.”

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