Page 56 of Romancing My Grumpy Goalie

I grunt.

“So you have! Does this mean you’re thinking of giving up pro soccer for Anabelle?”

“It might,” I admit.

“Bro, this is huge. Tell me I didn’t see this coming.”

I scowl and pull my gloves on. “Don’t get too excited because she may want nothing to do with me.”

“I hope she does, because despite all your grunting and scowling, you seem happier when you talk about Maple Creek, more so than when you talk about soccer.”

It was never the plan to pursue a life in a small town, to find love here. Yes, love. I’ve fallen for this woman, heart and soul. Maybe I’m already sabotaging my return to Atlanta because part of me wants this life with Anabelle and Nolan.

As I step out onto the field, the crowd goes wild, but my mind is still in Maple Creek, with burgers on the grill and Darth Vader swinging in pieces from Cuddle’s vicious attack, as we celebrate the eleventh birthday of the most amazing kid I’ve ever met.

With a minuteleft in the game, the crowd roars as I block another goal. The game is tied and in overtime, and we need this game to reach the championship. We’ve done well so far this season, despite my inability to perform at my best.

Despite how well I’ve played this game so far today, my mind is still at that birthday party, watching Nolan and Anabelle together, Nolan hugging me and treating me like I belong. The image of Nolan wrapping his arms around me hits harder than any tackle ever could.

For the first time in my life, I want it more than winning this game. But I can’t have it, and that hurts worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.

Because wanting something doesn’t mean you get to keep it.

The opposing team rushes toward the goal, and I snap into action. There’s a clean pass, and the striker takes a shot. This is my moment—or it would be—to impress Atlanta.

I lunge toward the ball, full extension with all I have inside me.

I miss—and with apop,I land hard on the ground, a sharp pain in my knee. The screaming crowd fades to nothing.

Everything is gone. Anabelle, Nolan, and now my career.

NINETEEN

ANABELLE

I needthis iced latte like my life depends on it. Sales are down again, and Nolan has been complaining about not being able to see Lucas as much. And to be honest, my life has gotten so dull and empty without Lucas arguing with me over random stupidity. I lived for that grumpy banter, and now it’s clear that I can’t live without his one-word answers and grunts.

And the thought that I’ll never kiss him again creates an ache that throbs in my chest.

I take a long sip of my drink and push open the door of Josie’s to exit. Right outside the shop, Aubrey’s mom is headed down the sidewalk toward me.

“You poor thing,” she says to me. “You look like you’ve been through so much. You must be worried sick about him.”

My stomach turns over, and my chest tightens. “Who am I supposed to be worried about?” Is Nolan hurt?

She waves an arm at me like I’m being difficult. “Lucas, of course. With that big injury of his.”

I furrow my brow and relax my shoulders. “That’s not new.” But something isn’t adding up.

“No, dear. He was injured at his big game yesterday. He didn’t tell you?”

I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. We aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”

“I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Wheaton pulls me in for a hug.

I stand there, rigid for a minute, but then I melt into her. I guess I needed this.

She pats me on the back. “He may not be able to play soccer anymore after this, but at least he has you.”

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