Page 86 of Goalie Interference

He helped me into the truck and closed the door behind me. The interior held the aroma of his body wash, cologne and a bit of dog on top of lingering new car smell. But being reminded of Beast didn’t make Remy less appealing. He had a big heart, this hockey player.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he started up the truck.

“Can I put it in your GPS?” This vehicle had all the bells and whistles.

He nodded. I punched in the street address. “It’s a one-off Tex-Mex place. A little nicer than a hole-in-the-wall, like where Diane and I took you, but not the kind of place where you get so much silverware you need to review your Emily Post lessons.”

He glanced at me. “I’m not sure I got those.”

He turned right as the voice on his truck instructed. He was a good driver—competent, followed the rules, aware of his surroundings. I was staring at his hands, and I needed to try to function as a normal person. “The All-Star break is coming up, right?” Every year the league suspended games for a few days for the All-Star competition. Ollie used to be part of it.

He shot a glance at me. “It’s a little different this year. They’re doing a four nations tournament, kind of a lead-up to the Olympics next year.”

“How is that different?”

“It’s a longer break, and more guys are invited.”

I didn’t ask if he was. The third goalie on a team would not get asked. Did that bother him? “Where is it?”

“Toronto, Montreal, Boston.”

“Not close, then.”

“No. Hockey is a bigger thing up there, so they’ll get better crowds.”

We talked about which four nations were playing and what players would be missing out because they weren’t from those countries. I didn’t recognize a lot of the names, but that was okay. The real conversation would come later.

The restaurant was good but not well-known, and we were able to find parking. We walked side by side on the sidewalk, not touching, but I was very aware of our hands, so close. Remy held the door open for me again and we were soon seated at our table.

Remy looked around once the hostess had left us. “It looks nice and smells even better.”

“And tastes better yet.”

Our server came over and we ordered drinks.

“What should I get?” he asked as we looked over the menu.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Anything you’re allergic to?”

“I’m okay with most things, but only medium spice. I can’t handle the really hot stuff some of you like down here.”

I smiled. “Want me to order, then? I promise not to get anything that will set your mouth on fire.”

He nodded and set his menu down. Our server returned and I chose several plates we could share. If Remy didn’t like one thing, there’d be other options. And since he was a hockey player, he could eat a lot.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” He set down his beer and waited for my response.

“I am too. But that raises the question—what exactly are we doing?”

“What we’re doing now, or what we want to be doing?”

“That’s the issue, isn’t it? I’d hoped to talk to you at the house the other night, but Cash showed up and I chickened out.”

“I like what we’re doing.” He unrolled his silverware and fussed with settling his napkin in his lap.

“Hey.” I waited till he looked up again. “I do too. I don’t want to stop. But where do you see this going?” He looked down again and I winced. I didn’t want to be clingy, but when I assumed things, I got hurt. I wasn’t important to people too often, and I wasn’t going to open myself up if Remy was just looking to fill the rest of his time here in Austin. “I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment, but if this is short-term, no strings, I want to be on the same page.”

He caught my gaze, jaw lifted. “I’m not using you. You’re not just a convenience.”

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