Page 38 of Romancing My Grumpy Goalie

“As soon as I’m able, I’m going back to Atlanta. I don’t have a life here.”

“You kind of do,” I counter. “You have your brother here.” And possibly me if he’d bother to give us a chance. But I’m still not sure that’s what I want either. What if we started dating, and I find out some dark secret that’s a deal breaker for me, like he has eternally stinky feet?

Except his shoes are off, and I smell nothing. That’s a green flag if I ever saw one. See? I’m getting to know him already. My brain is already arguing his case on one hand, and on the other, it’s condemning him before he’s even made a mistake. He might be horrible, which might lead to a breakup, which might shatter Nolan, so why try? But that reasoning is sound. And Lucas could wake up and be awful one day. But as time has passed, he’s only proven to be more wonderful each day.

After what I’ve been through with Jeremy, I can’t help but be a skeptic. Which is why I need to take a step back as well. “I agree we need to cool things down. No more kissing or cuddling, but I wouldn’t mind being your friend.”

He holds my gaze for a moment before slowly nodding. “Deal.”

“Good. Does that mean I get to stay for the food?”

He cracks a smile. “I guess.”

I toss a pillow at him. “I can’t believe you were about to throw me out hungry.”

“I wasn’t going to throw you out.”

“Kinda seemed like it to me.”

He grimaces. “Fine. I panicked. I haven’t done this in a while. Not something this serious.”

“You keep saying I’m serious. Just friends, remember?” I grin at him.

He nods seriously. “Just friends.”

There’s a knock at the door, and he goes to open it, retrieving a bag of takeout containers from the guy standing there.

The room fills with the smell of beef and broccoli, and my mouth waters.

He turns on the TV and arranges the food on the coffee table.

“Your orange chicken is a solid choice.” I grab my chopsticks and steal a piece of chicken from his container. Yup. Tastes like heaven. “Mmm. This is delicious. I was starving.”

“You’re going to eat my food, huh?” he teases. “Is that what friends do?”

I shrug. “Sure. If they’re close enough.”

His gaze sears into me. “And how close of friends are we?”

“If I remember correctly, until recently, you were glaring at me like your enemy, so I’d say this is relatively new.” I grin and steal another piece of his chicken. “But I think we could make good friends. I’m still trying to decide about you.”

“And that entitles you to steal my chicken?”

I laugh. “You can have some of mine if that makes you feel better,” I offer.

He reaches over with a fork and stabs a piece of beef.

My eyes widen. “A fork? Really? Is that even allowed?”

“We won’t tell The Golden Dragon about it, and they’ll never find out,” he promises.

“You don’t know how to use chopsticks,” I accuse.

“I do, but I find them annoying,” he declares.

I stab into his chicken again.

“You do realize you haven’t touched your dinner, right?”

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