Page 36 of The Only Goal

“I remember once, when Kai was about two… I was trying to bake in the kitchen, and he was tottering around, getting in my way. He wasn’t trying to be naughty, but I was flustered and tripping over him. He was having a clingy day, and when I wouldn’t pick him up, he went all quiet and sulky. Anyway, at one point, I pulled the pantry door open to grab something, and I flicked the door shut behind me—way too hard, because I was feeling frustrated—and heard this chilling scream.” I close my eyes and shudder.

Baxter hisses. “You jammed his fingers in the door.”

“Yep. Poor kid.”

“Ouch.” He winces.

“I felt so bad. It took me weeks to get over it, even though he didn’t lose any fingers. I mean, they bruised up pretty good, but they didn’t break, and they were back to normal before I knew it.”

Baxter’s shoulders relax on a sigh.

“My point is… kids heal fast, and they forgive even quicker.”

“Thank God for that,” he mutters.

I run my hands down to his fingers and squeeze them, loving how long and strong they are. “The trickiest part is going to be getting him back on the ice.”

“He won’t want to.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “We have to make him or his little mind will turn what happened today into this big, terrifying thing, and it’ll hold him back. Maybe next time I’ll come with you, and we can do it together.”

“Next time,” Baxter whispers, his eyes starting to smile.

“Yeah, and sooner rather than later. Maybe we can go this weekend or something.”

“My Mini Mites have a game this weekend if you want to come watch.”

“Yeah, for sure. That’ll be great. Kai can see kids falling over and getting back up again.”

“There’s definitely a lot of that.” Baxter laughs, and I grin up at him, impulse taking over as I dive for his chest and wrap my arms around his waist.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his shirt. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”

“Of course.” His large hand lands on my back, rubbing a slow line from the base to my neck and back again.

I close my eyes, sinking into the feeling of him holding me. It’s so secure and warm in this place. I splay my hand across his back and hold on a little tighter, wondering if I can just stay here forever and forget the world outside this paint-fumed room.

I’ll take this toxic scent for a decade if I can just keep hugging Baxter like this.

He leans down, resting his chin on the top of my head, just the way he used to. And those gentle caresses up my spine somehow become something different.

I don’t know how or when the shift happened, but I sense the heat before I fully recognize it. He’s not doing anything differently; it’s just my body responding in ways it never has before.

Well, it did once.

At that swimming hole.

A breath catches in my throat, and suddenly Baxter jolts, letting me go like my body is literally on fire.

Could he feel it too?

Can he sense the way I’m burning for him?

When he steps back from me, I sway on my feet, feeling his loss with a powerful ache I can’t define.

“I should, uh… get back to it.” He points at the window frame, and all I can do is nod.

I don’t know what just happened, but my cheeks feel like an inferno as I head for the door. When I reach the frame, I spin back to… I don’t even know… just watch him for a second.

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