Page 46 of The Goal

“Not quite.” He winks. “But you could at leasttryto act like you miss boning down with all this—” He sweeps a hand in front of him from head to toe.

And yeah, “all this” is mighty appealing. I’m talking big chest, sculpted arms, long legs, and muscles to spare.

But Tucker has all those things too.

“I see your ego is still as massive as ever,” I say cheerfully.

Beau nods fervently. “It is. Not as big as my dick, of course—”

“Of course.”

“But I’m not complaining.”

“Other than your big dick and ego, how’s life? How’s Joanna?” I’d met Beau’s older sister Joanna at one of his parties, and watching the two of them bicker had been highly entertaining.

“She’s great. Still doing that show on Broadway and killing it.” He sighs. “She asks about you all the time.”

“She does?”

“Oh yeah. She thinks I’m an idiot for not making you my girlfriend.”

“Making me?” I echo dryly.

“I tried to tell her that I’m too much man for you, but Jo insists that you’re too much woman forme. She’s wrong, obviously.”

My lips twitch in humor. “Obviously. What else? How’s the season going?”

His laidback expression falters slightly. “Team’s lost two games already this season.”

Sympathy tugs at my chest. I know how important football is to him. “I’m sure you can still turn things around,” I assure him, though I have no idea if that’s even true.

Apparently it’s not. “Nah, we’re fucked,” he says glumly. “Two losses pretty much guarantees we won’t make the playoffs.”

Ah, crap. And it’s his last year at Briar too. “Hey, but at least you led the team toonechampionship during your time here,” I remind him. “That counts for something, right?”

“Sure.” But he doesn’t sound convinced of that. He clears his throat and offers a smile that lacks the luster from before. “Anyway, I’m glad I ran into you. I promised not to say anything about this, but I figured it’s cool to bring it up to you since you’re the other party.”

I wrinkle my forehead. “The other party of what?”

He grins broadly, and this time itdoesreach his eyes. “Tuck’s epic pursuit of you.”

Oh God.

“What are you talking about?” I squeak.

“Ha. Don’t play dumb, baby. It’s been like a week since he tracked me down at the gym, and I know the guy—no way did he go a week without trackingyoudown.”

Anxiety pricks my belly. Beau and I might have ended things on fantastic terms, but that doesn’t mean I feel comfortable discussing other guys with him.

As if he senses that, he softens his tone. “It’s all good, S. You don’t have to give me deets if you don’t want to.” He shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure you knew he was a decent guy.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?” I say aloud.

Beau laughs. “Tucker,” he clarifies, as if I don’t know who we’re talking about. “I know you have this vendetta against hockey players—”

“I do not!” I protest.

---