Page 80 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
Nina: Love you too. Text me later. And if he kisses you again I want DETAILS.
I roll my eyes, type out a bye with an eyeroll and naughty devil emojis, and lock my phone.
Across the room, Blake’s eyes meet mine. His hair is a mess, and his chest rising and falling from exertion.
One brow lifts. You good? He mouths.
I nod. Immediately look away.
Jesus. What the hell am I doing?
I squeeze my eyes shut, and inhale sharply.
Snap out of it, Whitney.
This is just temporary. It’s just the kiss that’s messing with me. I am not falling in love with him again. That ship has sailed and sunk.
Chapter sixteen
Blake
Whack.
The puck zips past me before I can even react.
“Dude, what the hell?” Ryan’s voice cuts through the rink, sharp and frustrated.
I blink, my heart pounding. My stick feels like a lead pipe in my hands, and my gloves are slick with sweat. How did I miss that? That was easy. I shake my head, trying to snap out of it. Focus, Blake. Focus.
Coach blows the whistle, his glare practically drilling holes through me. I get back into position, crouched at the post, but my mind..., God, my mind’s nowhere near here.
Five days. It’s been five days since I kissed Whitney. Five days of her avoiding my eyes, and keeping things strictly business, like it didn’t happen. And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it.
Doesn’t stop me from replaying it, though. God. Every time I replay it, my chest tightens like someone’s got their hands around my ribs. The way she gasped against my mouth. The way her fingers curled into my shirt before she remembered shewasn’t supposed to hold on. The way I can still feel it if I close my eyes too long.
Another shot comes flying. I see it this time - I do, but my reaction’s half a beat slow, and the puck clatters into the net behind me.
Coach waves his hands, ending the practice.
“Seriously?” Thomas groans. “What is going on with you, man?”
I yank off my helmet, rubbing a hand through my hair. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” Ryan skates up beside me. “You’ve missed, like, every shot today. Did you forget how to play goalie overnight or...?”
Mario smirks. “I bet it’s a girl.”
I shoot him a glare. “Shut up.”
“Oh, it is a girl,” Thomas grins, eyes lighting up like he’s just struck gold. “Who is she? C’mon, spill.”
“Drop it,” I mutter, grabbing my water bottle. I chug half of it, but the tightness in my chest doesn’t ease.
"Blake, buddy," Thomas slings an arm around me. "If you need to cry, we’re here for you. No judgment."
I shove him off.
Liam laughs. "Okay, but real talk - are you in love? Wait…," he widens his eyes in realization. “Is it…, is it…?”
