Page 19 of One Goal in Mind

When the league required therapy for all athletes, I chose a group with three guys who didn’t play hockey. My sister studied psychology and drilled into me the importance of attending therapy. I wouldn’t be able to work on myself if it was a damn pissing match. The guys in my group are more like friends now. Ronan is quiet but has a great sense of humour. Will is constantly complaining about his PR manager, but I’m certain it’s because he wants to bend her over. Lucas is always making sure we’re inclusive. Truth be told, I was a fucking asshole before I met them. I don’t want to be that guy, and hate that I’ll have to tell them what happened. They might look at me differently—like a monster. I’m out for the game, but what if the league slaps me with a suspension? My team needs me.

Scarlett didn’t need me, but there was no way in hell I’d stand by and watch one of her players disrespect her that way. I selfishly want to be needed by her.

Fucking hell, is this the shit my therapist has been spewing for months? A saviour complex?

Once I’m home, the adrenaline crash kicks in. I take a quick shower before taking a nap, hoping to wake before the game is over. The turning of a key wakes me, and I’m back on high alert.

“Russ?” my favourite person in the world asks hesitantly, stepping into my apartment.

“Hey, Red,” I shout back, albeit groggily. “What are you doing here?”

My heart leaps into my throat at the sound of her tossing her keys and the thump of what must be her purse on the counter. “What were you thinking?” she seethes before she’s even in view.

I make my way to the kitchen, and the moment I see Scarlett, I barrel into her, nearly knocking her over as I take her into my arms. “Fuck, Red, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… okay,” she manages, muffled against my chest. I accidentally bump her suitcase and it clatters to the ground.

I pull back to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Rach bribed your friend for your spare key. I had to make sure you were okay, since you weren’t picking up your phone.”

Bringing her back into me, I sigh, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, but I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”

“I need a shower—without an incredibly attractive hockey goalie trying to feel me up. I’ll stay with you tonight if I can showeraloneand we’re both wearing clothes.”

“Of course.” I can’t help asking, “Who won?”

“You did, but that’s not why I’m here.”

I can’t help my heart swelling and take her face in my hands, kissing her as if I’ll never feel her lips on mine again. How is she even more beautiful than when we video chatted just two days ago? Having her safe and wrapped in my arms brings me more peace than I’ve felt in months.

Scarlett pulls back and places her palms on my chest. “Maybe I should go.”

“Go? Why?”

Her eyes search mine, and she stops and starts to reply a few times before settling on, “We shouldn’t do this, especially after last night and what happened on the ice today. We’re friends and?—”

“No,” I growl. “We’re not friends. It’s a fucking label we slapped on this to explain how every morning you wake up to a text from me, and a few hours later I wake up to a voice memo from you. We start and end our days with each other. We spend hours every day talking. You’ve told me your secrets and I’ve told you mine, and there is no one in this world I care about more than you.”

“That’s what friends do, Russ.” She sighs and chews on her bottom lip.

“Fine, you’ve got me there, but does your heart skip a beat every time you see a message from me?” She doesn’t reply, and I press on. “Do you get wet thinking about how I’d properly fuck you if you were mine?” Her eyes widen as she sucks in a breath and I can’t help a small smirk pulling at my lips. “Do you miss me all fucking day, and the moment you hear my voice, you finally relax? You know the answer is yes to all of it. You don’t want to be my friend, you want me as much as I want you. The only reason we’refriendsis because I can’t have you.”

I take a step back and lean against the counter, folding my arms over my chest. She rubs her hands down her face and lets out a deep sigh. I could lose her for this, but I’m done dancing around everything. I’d risk it all to be with her.

“What do you want me to say? That I’ll quit my job and move here to be with you? Because I won’t… but I also can’t lose you.” She steps toward me and places my hand over her heart. “I love you, Russ, but we can’t be more than friends.”

All of the air leaves my lungs. She’s my dream girl, the once-in-a-lifetime person you meet and are supposed to spend the rest of your days with. And she loves me. “We’ve always been more than friends.” I lift her by her waist and twist to set her on the counter. She squeaks as I set her down. As I step between her legs, I admit, “I’m yours, Red.”

“You’re going to break my heart.”

“No.” I lean in to press a soft kiss to her neck and whisper against her skin, “When it comes to you, I have exactly one goal in mind: to keep you.”

My phone vibrates on the counter and my instinct is to answer it—it’s usually Scarlett. With my girl here, her hands resting on my sides, there isn’t a single damn reason to see who’s calling. It stops, but as I’m kissing up to her jaw, it buzzes again.

“You should get that,” she breathes, fisting my shirt and pulling me closer.

“It isn’t you calling, so whoever it is doesn’t matter.”

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