Page 96 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
“Seriously, Blake,” I say, softer this time. “Why can’t you just stop dating those girls and just…,” I stop myself, suddenly feeling too exposed.
His gaze sharpens. “Just what?”
I swallow and my fingers tighten around the handle of my umbrella. “Just…, stop looking everywhere else.” My voice wobbles. “Just see me.”
Blake stiffens, his jaw clenching. “Whitney…”
“I love you.” The words tumble out, raw and unfiltered. My heart is racing, but I don’t stop. “I have for as long as I can remember. It started as a stupid crush, but it’s not that anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
The rain pounds around us, cold against my skin, but all I feel is the heat burning in my chest.
Blake exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “You don’t…”
“Don’t tell me I don’t know what love is,” I cut in, my voice trembling. “You think because I’m seventeen, it’s just some childish fantasy? It’s not. You…!” I take a shaky breath. “And I love you for it.”
He lets out a rough chuckle, shaking his head. “Whit… You really don’t know what you are saying or feeling. You’re Keith’s little sister.”
I stiffen. “That’s your excuse?”
He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not an excuse. It’s…” He trails off, looking frustrated.
I stamp my foot, ignoring the water splashing up my leg. “I’m not a kid, Blake.”
But I just stamped my foot like a kid.
His lips curl up in amusement. Sighing, he pulls me against his chest and tugs his hoodie off, draping it over my shoulders. The fabric is warm despite the dampness, and his scent—clean soap and somethingundeniablyhim - clings to it.
His hand lingers on my shoulder before he finally steps back. His gaze flickers over my face, something unreadable passing through his eyes -something hesitant, something almostsoft -but then it’s gone. He nudges my chin up slightly, just like he always does, and gives me a small, lopsided smile.
“Let’s get you out of the rain, shortcake.”
And just like that, I know - my first confession of love - unanswered. He wouldn’t see me the way I want him to because I am his best friend's younger sister.
And that? That’s the real heartbreak.
*** (Me – 18; Blake – 21) ***
It’s New Year’s Eve.
Inside the house, laughter and music spill through the walls, voices blending into an excited buzz as everyone waits for the countdown. But out here, in the quiet of the backyard, it’s just me, the cold air, and the stars.
I sit on the swing, rocking gently, watching the sky.
The sliding door creaks open, breaking my thoughts. I glance up to see Blake step out. He walks toward me, hands in his pockets, his breath visible in the cold air. Without a word, he lowers himself onto the other swing.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I shrug in response.
He studies me for a moment. “It’s five minutes to midnight. You should come inside for the countdown.”
I shake my head. “I want to do it here. Better view of the fireworks.” I nod toward the house. “You can go in.”
He tilts his head, watching me for a moment, then nods. Instead of leaving though, he starts swinging, slow and easy. I watch him for a beat before joining in, our movements syncing.
The silence stretches between us, but it’s comfortable. The cold bites at my cheeks, but I don’t mind.
