Page 31 of The Goalie and Santa's Little Helper

“Groceries?” She quirks a brow at me.

“Yeah, so after our talk last night, I got to thinking . . . what if we could maybe do more than just raise money? The people who show up for the community dinner probably need some of the basics in their kitchen for the other days too, and?—”

I’m cut off by her lips on my mouth and her arms around my neck. My hands fall to her waist as my laughter breaks up our kiss.

“Okay, maybe this wasn’t the letdown I worried it would be.”

“Noah, this is such a great idea. It’s perfect. And you know what? I’m going to call Mazy and have her make us a sign to get more food donations.” She flips up her skirt on the side to expose a hidden pocket in her new skin-tinted leggings. She pulls out her phone, then catches my wide-eyed gaze, pausing to laugh.

“You want a pair?” She pulls the fabric out from her thigh, then lets it snap back in place.

“I mean, yeah. Kind of. Women have the coolest things.”

She purses her lips, but her smile doesn’t totally disappear.

“We have a lot of the shittiest things, too. Don’t go thinking a secret pocket makes up for it all.” She looks up at me with a hard glare as she drops her chin. I nod.

“Point taken,” I say as she swipes to Mazy’s contact info and paces down the walkway as she talks to her friend. She sneezes three or four times during her conversation, sniffling by the time she wanders back to me and ends her call.

I give her a sideways look, and she holds up a palm, skirting past me to head toward Norris, who just pulled in with his equipment.

“Don’t say a word. I am not getting sick. If we don’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t happen.”

I shake my head and laugh quietly as I trail behind her. “I don’t think you can trick germs and viruses like that, but I admire your willpower.”

She sneezes again, her back to me, then quickly flashes her middle finger over her shoulder.

“I’m not saying a word,” I laugh out.

She sneezes again and spins around.

“You just did. Now zip it.” She draws an invisible zipper across my mouth, and I hold up two fingers in Goalie’s honor.

When she turns around and sneezes again, I keep my mouth shut. But I also make a mental shopping list for all the things I need for the care package she’s going to need me to deliver by morning.

11/

frankie

I didn’t realize gettinga cold was such a great ab workout. I think I’m finally over the sneezing fits, which took up most of my morning and stuck around through the soup and crackers Noah brought over for lunch. I wanted to rally and show up for the photo booth, but Noah insisted I let him handle it.

My dad comes home tomorrow, a few days early, and I miss him. But also, I don’t want anything to disrupt the fragile ecosystem of me and Noah and that booth. I’m already hot with jealousy because Mazy filled in for me today. And watching her strip out of my costume in front of me is a wake-up call for exactly how revealing that green outfit is. Noah better have kept his eyes and hands to himself.

“Seriously, Frankie. I know you want to go into social work, but dealing with the public is gross sometimes. I had a kid vomit on my shoes, and at least two older men and one older woman touch my bum. This bum. Right here. Like, my skin is itchy where they copped a feel.”

She shivers and makes a gagging sound. I’m less worried about her wanting to encroach on my thing now, and she hasn’t mentioned Noah once.

“I should have warned you about the entitled regulars at the rink. Oscar and Milton, the men I think you’re talking about? They stoppedaccidentallybrushing my ass with their hand when I threatened to do it back with a fist. Georgianne, however? Silver hair and turquoise purse?”

I quirk a brow, and Mazy snaps and points at me.

“Yes, that’s the one!”

I nod as she shoves her feet into her leggings and sits on my desk chair to shimmy them up.

“She’s a little harder to shake. That’s because she’s not trying to cop a feel. She’s looking for your wallet.”

Mazy’s head pops up, and her mouth forms an O.

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