Page 18 of Goal Line Love

“I want to set the record straight. Bergan Rosten is a hard-working journalist. She doesn’t take her job lightly. She’s talented. She’s kind. And she’s… well, she was… never mind. Anyway, if I hear anyone saying shit about her, I will break my promise to Coach and go apeshit on your ass. So don’t fuck with me.” I glare at every person in the room, making sure they know I’m serious.

Alexie starts a slow clap and the guys roll their eyes and turn back to their lockers.

Alexie shrugs. “Vhat? I thought it was a slow-clap worthy speech.”

Shaking my head, I grab my phone and text Bergan.

Harrison: I saw the article. Thank you. I wish I knew what happened between us. Please, let’s talk.

Quickly, she reads it. My heart palpitates and the three magical dots appear, and I watch them dance along my screen, anticipating her response.

Bergan: You’re welcome. It was all true and I’m glad to show everyone the real you. I wish you the best of luck at tonight’s game and I hope Millie is everything you ever wanted, but I can’t be your something on the side. You helped me see that I want to be everything to someone. That’s my new line.

Millie? Something on the side? What the fuck?

I think over our weekend together, and a pattern emerges where Bergan kept popping up at the end of conversations where I always say I love you to my little sister or my stepmom. We’re a close family, especially after Millie’s scare. We never leave a conversation without saying it. Even if we’re angry, we know it’s more important.

I type furiously.

Harrison: Millie is my little sister. She’s why my phone’s always charged so I can talk to her. Family means everything to me. Like you do.

I glance at the screen, wishing for the dots, but there’s nothing. Not even the normal “read” receipt that happens.

“You ready?” Alexie claps me on the back.

Shit.

I put my phone back in the locker. This will have to wait, the ice calls. “Let’s do this.”

Bergan

I’m sitting in an aisle seat about three rows from the glass in the arena as it fills in quickly before the buzzer goes off. It’s the first home game since we’ve been back from Storm Canyon. The first time I’ll see him again in person.

As soon as the article published, potential headhunters, hockey teams, and news outlets blow up my phone. It’s been crazy. Not as crazy as Harrison’s life is going to get. I hear that the Los Angeles Super Sunsets are looking at a trade, but that’s insider info because I’m privy to that now, apparently.

But it felt good to tell him what I’m worthy of in that text. I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m okay being alone, even if that’s not what I thought might happen with him.

My phone dies before I can see his response to my text. Typical.

Damn. I have to get this phone replaced! First thing in the morning. I can’t risk missing a call.

I giggle. I sound like him. Not a bad thing.

I plug it into the battery pack in my purse. I bought one when my phone started blowing up after the article.

But being a dedicated sports journalist, I have to watch the game. No matter how much I try to lie to myself, I’m watching for Harrison and cheering for him.

The game is going well, but Harrison’s not fully in it. He spends more time looking into the crowds than focusing on the puck and I want to yell at him to get his head in the game, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s looking for me.

The buzzer sounds to end the second period. My phone’s charged enough from the battery pack in my purse. I turn it on and tap on his name.

Harrison: Millie is my little sister. She’s why my phone’s always charged so I can talk to her. Family means everything to me. Like you do.

The words have me frozen. I repeatedly read the words over as my heart drops into my gut.

Sister? Millie’s his sister. And I mean everything to him?

Bubbles hit along the bottom of my screen as I see Harrison typing up a message from the locker room and I’m nervous about what he’s going to say next.

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