Page 5 of Goalie Lessons

Callum slides in next to Sloane and puts his arm around her. I was on the team two seasons ago when everything went down, but not that close with Callum, so I’m still fuzzy on the details. What I do know is that Sloane owns a hockey media company that used to talk shit about the Frost. Not so much anymore, after a very public apology. She has the same golden hair and freckles as her brother, Luca McKenzie, our captain. Luca’s sitting next to, but not touching, his wife Mandy. I went to their wedding too, and couldn’t help but notice the weird chill between them.

“…did he tell you?” Sloane is asking, as I slid into my chair, her eyes flicking between Callum and me. Her resemblance to Luca is uncanny, and it reminds me of the drama from two seasons ago. Luca wasn’t stoked about his sister and best friend getting together, apparently, and it made what was already a rough season just a bit worse.

“Tell me? Oh, no,” Callum laughs, eyes darting to mine as I slide in beside them. “He’s not going to share his secrets, babe.”

I feel the flush returning. They’re talking about my new confidence. The thing that’s surged through me and made it to where I’ve been able to block even the most sure-fire shots. Even if I could get over the embarrassment of the truth, even if there was a chance in hell that I could tell the guys, there’s no way I’m going to share it with Sloane here.

Because the truth is…her best friend had everything to do with it.

I’d seen Astrid around, obviously. Here to visit a few times, then during the rehearsals for the wedding. And there was something about her that immediately pulled me in. Something soothing. Steady.

Not to mention the fact that she’s fucking gorgeous. Pretty short, but in a body you can tell is powerful. She’s athletic, and despite her height, when she looks up at you, it makes you feel small. In a good way. And I thought she wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, I couldn’t find the courage to flirt with her, or even approach her, until I had no idea where to sit at the reception.

When she turned around, her eyes landing on me, I saw her notice me for the first time. And, somehow, I thought she liked what she saw.

Being an NHL player, it should be easy to flirt with women. But, for some reason, my words end up failing me. I always feel awkward. That’s why my last relationship was back in college, when my proximity to girls during class made it a lot easier for me to build up my courage and talk to them.

But Astrid had seen me. And she kept seeing me—watching me all night. When I put my hands on her, it felt like touching a live wire. It stayed that way for the rest of the party, when we danced, and I kept trying to get myself to go over to her.

Finally, I’d ducked away, hyping myself up, and ended up missing the send-off. I’d gone back and forth about whether or not to go to her room. That’s where I was, just about to leave, when she walked up and saw me.

The look on her face was hungry, and she kissed me, opening her door, pushing me inside her room. I’d spun her around, got her legs around my waist, then had the best sex of my life.

“Hey, anyone hungry for wings?” Maverick asks, standing. When he glances at me, there’s a look there that says he knows I don’t want the attention on me. “I’ll order some, on the house, boys.”

He disappears, and Ruby launches into an embarrassing story of something he did this summer, hiccupping through her laughter and rushing to get through it before he returns. I’m so invested in it I almost don’t hear my phone buzzing in my pocket.

I excuse myself from the table, moving to a quiet side of the patio to answer just as Maverick is returning with the wings.

“Hello?”

“Mr. O’Connor?”

“That’s me,” I say, throat already going dry at the tone of the person on the other end of the line. “How can I help you?”

“Mr. O’Connor, this is Eliza Montgomery, and I’m the estate lawyer for the Welch family. I need to talk to you urgently about a matter regarding Mr. Welch’s surviving children. Is there a time I could get you into my office?”

I glance back at the table, where Maverick is shaking his head and leaning back in his seat, clearly catching the last bit of Ruby’s story and disagreeing with the way she’s telling it.

Something tells me that the high I’ve been feeling this summer is about to plummet, and fast.

Astrid

Thesoftding-ding-dingofthe car door lets me know it’s open while I try to gather my things, balancing my coffee cup and water bottle with one arm while grabbing my purse with the other. That snarky interviewer’s voice rings through my head.

She wasn’t that much older than me, hadn’t even let me finish my presentation before cutting in.

I’m just not convinced we have a spot for you in the research department here.

I walk through the parking garage under my apartment, already imagining the sweet release of unclipping my bra and flinging it across the room. I can see the interviewer’s face in my mind, the way she tilted her head at me pityingly.

Perhaps you should try a more…conventional research proposal?

Growling with frustration, I step into my elevator and punch the buttons.

Some might tell me I’m lucky that my building even has an elevator. I’m lucky to have the money I have. I’m lucky to live in L.A. and not worry about the cost of that while searching for a spot at a research lab.

Bouncing on my heels, I look up at the mirrored ceiling, where my own disheveled face stares right back at me. Cheeks flushed, eyes tired, hair a complete frizz ball.

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