Page 29 of The Boyfriend Goal

I pee as fast as I can, flush, and hustle to the sink to wash my hands. I need to get back to the training session anyway. Maybe Christian wrote to me. He should be at the rink by now. He said he’d be in touch before the game started. But when I turn around to check my phone as I leave, I stop in my tracks, startled. That’s not a raccoon. That’s a cat. A big, beautiful seal-point Siamese cat.

He’s parked at the door. And I do mean parked. He’s barn-cat size and it’s like he’s guarding the exit, tail swishing, big blue eyes lasered right at me.

“What’s your name, buddy?” I ask.

He doesn’t move. Just flicks his tail. And stares at me without blinking. “I kinda need to get back to the meeting,” I say.

Yes, this is now my life. Anxiously waiting to hear from my brother about a place to live while negotiating with a giant cat.

The feline is impervious to my dilemma. I advance toward the door he’s guarding like a sentry, but he makes no move to let me by. Am I going to have to pick him up and move him? Right as I’m contemplating my cat removal options, my phone buzzes in my skirt pocket. I grab it like it’s on fire and read the new text from Christian.

My shoulders relax. My whole body relaxes. Christian found someone—a guy on his team named Bryant. He’s attached the contact card.

Then I spot another text. From a new number and name.

Bryant: Hey! Christian said you need a place to stay. I have a sweet guest room under the staircase.

My heart sprints.

Jay: That sounds like something out of a book!

Jay: Also, thank you! I am so grateful. You won’t even know I’m there!

Bryant: Happy to help.

Jay: My brother said I should come by after the game and we can meet. Does that work for you?

Bryant: Yup. See you then.

I’m about to slide my phone into my pocket when it pings once more.

Bryant: Also, you can move in whenever. It has sheets and pillows and stuff already.

Bryant: The decorator did it. Not me.

Bryant: So it’s not like it’s black sheets and chrome.

I laugh at his reassurances that it’s not hyper manly even though I wouldn’t care if it was designed in every single shade of gray.

“Buddy, you need to move,” I say, pleading with the fluffy beast with the implacable gaze.

The cat refuses to budge though, so I bend down and scoop him up.

“Oof. You weigh thirty pounds,” I blurt out as I lift the big boy, then open the door with a pretty impressive combination of elbow and butt maneuvering if I do say so myself.

“I see you met Raccoon.”

It’s Thalia on the other side, bracelets jangling as she heads my way.

“Raccoon?” I ask.

“Our library cat. We found him in the wall and he stayed. But don’t body shame him,” she says with a wink.

“My bad,” I say, then gesture toward the floor. “Okay to put him down here?”

She waves her arm around to the shelves, her bracelets chiming. “He has run of the place. Leave him wherever. He’s why we have no mice,” she says as I set him down and in a heartbeat, he makes like a cat and hightails it far, far away from me.

On my way back to the conference room, Christian sends me one more text, telling me a woman named Everly will meet me at the arena whenever I arrive. He drops me her number too. I thank him, then return to the conference room, feeling like I can breathe easily thanks to a room under the stairs in some hockey player’s home.

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