Page 7 of Goalie Lessons

Brianna lets out a strangled scream stuck somewhere low in her throat, grabs her bags, and pushes through the front door, getting caught for a second before she practically falls into the hallway.

“I can call you an Uber—”

“Goodnight, Astrid.”

***

"Eww!” Sloane squeals over the phone, her laughter making me feel better about the whole thing. “You saw his dick?”

“Yes.” I pull the phone back from my ear and check on the delivery time for my pad thai. Delayed. Again. Putting the phone back to my ear, I add, “Unfortunately.”

“I can’t believe Brianna did that to you.” Sloane is the perfect person to call after something like this—not happy, but not vindictive, either. “What did she even say?”

Uncomfortable, I shift from side to side, then let out a breath. “She said I’m like a brick wall—no, I think she actually said I’m like azombie.”

Sloane sucks in a quick breath of air. “Harsh.”

“Only because it’s true, right?”

“Just because you didn’t feel it with her doesn’t mean you won’t feel it with anyone, Astrid.”

I tuck my knees under my chin and sigh. If I wasn’t a zombie, this is the part where I’d tell Sloane I think I might be broken. That maybe I’m just not capable of having a relationship. That the last time I felt anything real was at the start of the summer, at her wedding, with a man who pops into my brain with a startling frequency.

“If you’re looking for something to take your mind off of it…” Sloane starts, her voice a bit sing-song, and I know exactly where this is headed. Another plea for me to move to Milwaukee.

“Sloane, I’m in the second largest city in the U.S. right now. Is Milwaukee even in the top ten? If I’m struggling to find a research spot even here, what in the world makes you think I’ll have more luck there?”

“Look at the link I just sent you.”

On cue, my phone buzzes, and I pull back, frowning as I look at the digital flier she’s sent. It’s for a mental health career fair—all companies trying to get professionals into the area.

“Oh-kay,” I say, bringing the phone back to my ear, and I know Sloane can tell I’m caving.

“Listen, there’s this big push to get more therapists in the area. The population here is growing—if you ask me, it definitely has something to do with the addition of a professional sports team, but what do I know?—and all sorts of places are popping up, so now there’s a shortage. You could come—”

“I’m not a counselor, though, Sloane,” I remind her. “I’m looking for a research position.”

“I know.” I can practically imagine her chewing on her nail over the line. “But think of it as a change of pace. Maybe doing something a little different can help you change up your approach? It’s like moving places when you’re shooting at the goal, to get out of your head.”

“You know I don’t want you to talk hockey to me.”

She laughs. “So? Are you coming to Milwaukee?”

I pause, put her on speaker, stare at the flier. It’s not about Milwaukee—I hate the snow, anyway—it’s about the feeling that I’m stuck. And, if I’m being honest with myself, it’s the fact that a certain guy is living in Milwaukee, even if I promised myself I would not be seeing him again.

“Astrid?”

“We’ll see, Sloane.”

Twenty minutes later, when we’re off the phone, I’ve already booked the flight. And my pad thai still hasn’t arrived.

Grayson

I’veneverfeltcomfortablein a suit. It tugs in all the wrong places, even tailored, and I keep finding myself wishing I was in my goalie get-up instead. That would be more comfortable, and I’d feel a hell of a lot more protected.

My body is stiff from the flight. I got the first one I could out of Milwaukee to Denver, and luckily for me, it was a direct shot. When the plane landed, I got a car to my hotel, changed into this suit, and decided to walk the few blocks to the lawyer’s office.

That was a mistake, resulting in my curls plastering to my forehead, sweat running down my back. Denver might be drier than Milwaukee, but it’s still hot as hell. The suit didn’t help, trapping my body heat so the first thing I did when I saw the old brick building was find a bathroom, drench a paper towel, and hold it to the back of my neck, willing my temperature to lower.

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