Page 15 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance
She wrinkles her nose. “Not ridiculous. More like cliche.”
I chuckle. “Then guilty as charged.”
“I thought we made a deal.” A smile plays at her full and very kissable lips.
“Remind me of the terms.” I’m teasing her…like I used to.
She turns her face toward me, staring at me over her shoulder. “Just friends catching up.”
“Right, guess I forgot for a moment.” I slip my hands into my shorts pockets as the water laps at my bare feet. When we dated, she used to meet my teasing with a spark in her eye and a sharp reply. I remember going back and forth with her for hours until we stopped talking and expressed ourselves in other ways.
True to her word, Rebecca asked me to stop at her condo so she could change into gauzy shorts that revealed her shapely legs and a tank top that fit her to perfection. Thankfully, I had my gym bag in my trunk and changed into shorts and a T-shirt at her place, saving my suit from the sand.
She turns away from the explosion of colors painting the sky to face me. “I’ll start. Why did you stop returning my calls?”
I blink, then raise my brows, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Becks never was one to pull punches, and apparently, she still isn’t. “I was young and stupid?”
A soft snort escapes her before she turns her gaze back to the water. “I already knew that.”
Revealing the truth about her father’s request would hurt her, but not telling her might jeopardize building something new between us.
I can’t tell her about the part her father played, but I can share one reason I stayed away. “I knew my career would interfere with yours, so it seemed best to let you go.”
She whips her head around to face me. “You didn’t even give me a choice.”
Nodding, I tuck my chin, unable to meet her eyes. Back then, she could read me like an open book, and I suspect she still can. But I can’t stand the thought of hurting her by tarnishing her father’s memory. “I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve let you decide.”
And I would have, but Sam insisted on making that decision for her, even when I argued otherwise. I respected his judgment because he’d always steered me on the right path, and I figured he knew what was best. But I always regretted it.
She crosses her arms. “I never heard if you got married or anything.”
I shake my head, choosing my words carefully because I want her to know what she meant to me. “Never met anyone else that interested me like that.”
Surprise flashes over her expression. Her mouth opens, but she says nothing. Is she simply processing what I said, or is she struggling to believe me?
“What about you?”
With a wry smile, she lifts one shoulder. “I was with someone for a while. Fell apart after we were engaged.”
I frown at her. “I don’t think it’s supposed to work that way.”
She snorts. “True, but thankfully, we realized we weren’t right for each other before we got married.”
Getting our past entanglements out of the picture shifts something in the conversation, and we spend the next thirty minutes more at ease, sharing details from our lives under a blazing sunset and the sound of the waves as our backdrop.
I fill her in on my transition fromhockey to becoming a sports analyst, and she shares her challenges to be taken seriously in a male-dominated sport, especially when it comes to management.
When the sun finally dips below the water, we head up the beach toward my car. “Any chance I can talk you into that burger?”
She sighs. “And he’s back to pushing.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “What’s the saying? A girl’s gotta eat?”
“Yes, but this girl is meeting her potential new coach in the morning and needs to prepare.”
I open the car door for her. “I could help you with that.”
“I think I can figure this part out on my own, Zach.”
