Page 168 of The Keeper

The cavernous hole in my chest expanded.

“Good luck tomorrow.” I ended the call.

League champions.

I sat cross-legged on the floor with the biggest smile on my face and tears streaming down my cheeks. An older gentleman presented Royal City Athletic with the trophy and announced Xavier as the Goalkeeper of the Year. Apparently, he hadn’t conceded a goal since coming back from suspension, bringing his clean sheet tally to twenty for the entire season.

Honestly, that’s impressive.

His teammates crowded and jumped around him, encircling him in a jubilant, bouncing huddle. He looked thrilled. And maybe a little embarrassed?

Nah.

Xavier Maddox does not get embarrassed. I can tell he loves every moment. The cheering. The fawning. The adoration.

I stroked the ring hanging from my necklace.

The camera paused in front of him when the huddle of teammates dispersed. His eyes searched the crowd for something and then focused on the camera.

It took my breath.

Those eyes stared right at me. Right through me. And yes, I know he’s only looking at a camera lens but in this moment, for the first time in weeks, it felt like he was looking at me. Only me.

And then he smiled.

My smile.

The one that’s too wide and too crooked and shows too much dimple. It filled the gaping abyss residing in my chest. I felt whole, if only for a few seconds.

The camera cut away to a wide-shot of the field.

The announcers kept babbling.

The team gathered together on the stage, all wearing their medals. Cade carried the trophy and took his place in the middle, next to Xavier. On a joyful count to three, Cade hoisted the trophy as they all yelled and cheered while royal blue streamers shot into the air.

On an impulse, I grabbed my phone and took a picture of them celebrating on TV. I sent the picture to Xavier with the message I’m so proud of you.

My phone rang immediately, giving me heart palpitations.

“Killian,” I answered.

“Tori,” he replied. “What are you doing tonight?”

“I have a date with some mint chocolate chip ice cream and season two of You.”

“Lame. Well, not the ice cream. But anyway. Max and I were invited last minute to some fundraiser and we’re taking you with us.”

“Last minute?” I stood up and put my empty coffee mug in the sink. “Who invites someone last minute to a fundraiser?”

“Christ,” he grumbled. “You get way too caught up in the minutia of situations. It’s the influencer Max planned the birthday party for. Her dad’s foundation is hosting a big who’s-who event. It’ll be a networking extravaganza. No more questions. Grab a dress and be ready at eight. We’ll pick you up.”

“How fancy?”

“Fundraiser fancy.”

I sighed. “So, like, cocktail dress or full length?”

“Surprise us.”

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