Page 4 of Goal Line Love

He looks me dead in the eye and he seems sincere and it’s hitting me hard that I want to spend more time with him.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I weigh the cons, but I want the inside scoop.

“I’m hungry. This really isn’t my scene— I know this little place around the corner.”

A little boy's smile brightens up his face like the fourth of July. “Lead the way.”

4

HARRISON

Bergan leads me into a little dive place called The Grey Fox, and as soon as we walk through the door, her name is cheered. She smiles and says a quick hello to several people as we find a table. She orders a bottle of wine, which is a third of the price of the other place.

“You want the regular, Bergan?”

“Yes, please, but double the order.”

“You got it.”

I scope the place out and I like the vibe. It’s laid back, and the room is full of laughter as people drink and enjoy each other’s company.

“I like this place.”

Bergan smiles and looks around. “It’s such a great atmosphere to come and unwind.”

The wine appears and we drink away as hot chicken wings appear before us. They smell so good I’m dying to dive in. As soon as I take my first bite, her interrogation begins.

Bergan peppers me with a dozen questions that are spicier than the wing in my mouth.

I chuckle and shake my head. I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “If I answer one of yours, you have to answer one of mine.”

Bergan narrows her gaze as she tears some meat off the bone. “Just FYI, I don’t get involved with hockey players, so you should know, this is not a date, this is only professional. I don’t date hockey players. And I don’t date the men I write about. I’m here to get an announcer position and that’s all.”

Impressed, I nod and finish my chicken wing. “Understood, Ms. Rosten.”

She chews on her food as she watches me skeptically, and I make sure I keep an open look on my face. It seems to settle her enough that she nods and her body eases into the seat.

“What made you get into hockey?”

“I love competition and honestly, I love the feeling of the ice under my skates. It’s like flying on frozen water. I feel free.”

Bergan stares and clears her throat. “Kinda deep there.”

I shrug and sip my wine. “It’s my Cali vibes coming out.”

“That’s right. Why did you get transferred?”

Shaking my head. “Nope, it’s my turn.”

“Oh, right. Shoot.”

“What’s your ideal man?”

Bergan

I nearly choke on my chicken, which I shouldn’t have been surprised by his question. He’s not one to play by any rules. But I’m not going to answer because it’s too close for comfort since the man sitting across from me is quickly filling in all the boxes. I mean, the waitress is gorgeous, and he didn’t look twice at her. I won’t be surprised if she slips him her number when we get the bill.

When I remain silent, he sighs and asks, “Do you have any allergies?”

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