Page 65 of My Pucking Perfect Goalie

Finn rounds the corner and opens the gate to enter the Viper’s bench.

“Mhmm,” I hum.

There’s a look on Finn’s face—something like uncertainty, and I think about what she told me at the cabin. About her husband cheating on her. Getting another woman pregnant when all Finn ever wanted was to be a mother.

I end the call with Michael just as she reaches me, breathless. She’s gorgeous today, like she is every day. Dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, a fitted suit hugging her curves. I want to reach out and warm my hands up on her, tuck them into the crook of her neck, but I can’t.

“What was that?” she asks, her eyes flashing to my phone.

I want Finn to stay. With me. Not to return to California at the end of this. I can’t say that to her right now—or tell her that I love her—but I can do this. Be honest and open with her now. Show her that I’ll never try to hide anything from her.

Turning my phone screen, I unlock it in front of her so she can see the PIN—an embarrassingly easy 1-2-3-4. Then I hand it to her.

Her eyebrows shoot up, eyes darting between my face and the screen.

“What isthis?”

“Michael called me,” I say, nodding my head down at the screen, waiting for her to look at the materials before I tell her everything he said.

Finn

“I think climbing is for smaller people,” Sam says, looking up uncertainly at the faux rock face.

Around us, the Burlington Climbing Center is quiet. I thought it might be busy with parents and kids, looking for something to do, but it’s not exactly a state-of-the-art center. Dust swirls through the air, and something ancient plays softly over the speakers, staticky and crackling.

Despite the obvious age of the facility, the main climbing area is actually pretty decent, soaring forty feet up. The walls tilt at various angles and are dotted with—what I hope—are secure holds. The bright blues and yellows mark the easier paths, while the harder ones are white and black.

The floor is padded, a faded purple industrial-grade plastic that’s smooth in some areas and crinkles in others.

I turn back to Sam, who’s still fussing with his harness. Reaching over, I tighten it again, giving him a look.

“It’s for safety,” I say.

“It’s too small,” he counters, gesturing to himself.

Hedoeslook out of place in this climbing facility, his form hulking amidst the few other climbers here. He easily has a foot of height on the next tallest person, and is wider than two of them put together.

Two ofmeput together. It’s only at a certain kind of distance that I remember just how large of a person he is. When I’m close to him—head on his shoulder—I don’t feel it. From the stands, he and all the other hockey players don’t seem that big. But from here, standing in front of him and trying not to laugh at the way the climbing gear clings to his hips, I remember that he is, in fact, a professional athlete.

“Climbing is foreveryone, man!” A passing blonde man has to reach up to clap Sam on the shoulder.

He reminds me so much of California it hurts—the kind of man who stares at himself in the mirror every day but is unfailingly kind to everyone around him. The shoulder-length blonde hair and toothy smile is not Vermont-like in the least. It reminds meof the west coast, and also of the fact that at the end of this season, I’ll be returning to California without Sam.

His life will continue here, and mine will continue there.

“Right, sure, thanks,” Sam says, drawing me out of my thoughts. He turns to me, giving me a terrified expression. “So, what now?”

I grin, tightening my harness. “Now, we climb.”

“Are you…sure about this?”

“Yes,” I say, turning to the wall. “Free climbing builds trust, improves hand-eye coordination, and forces you to stay present in your body. Perfect for a goalie. Plus, this helps with the heights thing.”

“There’s no heights thing. This isn’t a heights thing, but…the hardest route? To start?”

“Real fear creates breakthroughs,” I say, grinning at him. “And you’re a professional athlete. How hard can this be for you?”

I turn back glance up, my mind already coming up with a plan of attack. Years yoga and daily exercising made me good at climbing, but the analyzing and strategy is what makes me great. I haven’t been since I was in California, and that first toe hold feels pretty good.

---