Page 20 of The Goalie

“And what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded to know. I could already picture her with her hands on her hips, giving me a look that indicated she was not going to fuck around.

“Do you even hear yourself?” I asked. “You just saidyoucouldn’t deal with another heartbreak. Don’t you mean that you wouldn’t want your best friend to have to deal with it?”

A whoosh of air boomed over the received. I knew she had just sighed with extra Lucy exasperation.

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” she insisted. I rolled my eyes. Why was I not surprised that she wouldn’t let this go? “I don’t want you and her together, okay? I don’t want you to hurt her.”

“First of all, Sam does not seem delicate in the slightest.” I saw the rink coming up and I let out a sigh of relief. I could get off this phone call without feeling guilty, without lying—even though I was tempted to. “If she did make a choice you don’t agree with, guess what? She’s an adult and she’s fully capable of making whatever choice she wants to.”

“You fucked my best friend, didn’t you?”

“That’s your assumption.” I followed the road around the rink to the back where players were encouraged to park. “I never said yes.”

“You also didn’t deny it.”

“So sorry, Luc, just pulled up to the rink.”

“This isn’t over, Dan,” she said. “We’re going to finish this conversation.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. I was actually not looking forward to that conversation. I couldn’t tell if she was upset that Sam and I had been together or that we were together and didn’t tell her. Lucy was weird that way. What she reacted to and what she didn’t could differ depending on her mood.

I pulled into my parking spot and turned off the engine. Instead of hopping out and heading inside, I gave myself time to just sit there and stare out my windshield. I wasn’t even sure why I resisted immersing myself with the love of my life—hockey. But I couldn’t find it in myself to move just yet.

I glanced at my phone, awkwardly fitted in the cupholder. My fingers itched to grab it and send Sam a text, but I had no idea what I would say. There was nothing left. I put my cards out on the table. She knew what I wanted. I was the one who left before she had a chance to answer. I thought I was giving her the chance to think. I thought I was being the proverbial good guy.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

In truth, I was chickenshit.

I wanted Sam. I wanted to fuck her, but I also wanted to hang out with her. I wanted to eat her terrible cooking and watch reality television with her. I wanted to hang out in pajamas and take naps during the day. I wanted to be lazy with her.

So I asked.

I wasn’t sure if that meant we were in a relationship. I did know that I felt things for her, things I didn’t understand, things I had never felt before. Things I wanted to explore, but was intimidated to. Things I didn’t want to voice out loud.

But it was her call. I left it up to her.

I heaved a sigh. I couldn’t believe I even wanted this at all.

There was a knock on my window, causing me to jump out of my thoughts.

Nate.

What did he want?

I stepped out of my car. The last thing I needed was for him to start questioning me for hanging out in my car like a sad, pathetic tool. Which I was for Sam, but no one else needed to know that.

“What’s up?” I said, closing my door and stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets.

“I called that number you gave me.”

I stilled and I tried not to show any reaction. I bet Lucy gave him a lashing. I wished I had been there. I would have died.

“Oh?” I arched a brow, pretending I was actually interested in what he had to say.

“Yeah.” He furrowed his brow. “Whoever I called, it was not that girl in the white dress. Sam? Whatever her name is. It was someone else. Someone who didn’t seem to want to talk to me at all.”

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