Page 31 of O Goalie Night
When Foster smiles at me, I feel like my vital organs are all about to simultaneously malfunction, but, like, in a positive way.
“No,” I answer, firmly. “I’m not looking to be wooed.” At least not by Jacob. Part of me wishes I felt that way forhim. It would certainly be easier than having an unrequited crush on my brother’s best friend.
“I figured as much,” Tamara nods solemnly. “You’ll have to make that clear to him. He's a good guy, but he’s the type who’ll follow you around like a lost puppy unless you tell him to go home.”
“I won’t lead him on.”
“Good,” she stands and stretches, like she’s limbering up for a fight. “Alright, Ms. Michaels. There are two hours left in the school day. If we stick together, we just might make it out of here alive.”
Chuckling, I pack up my lunch bag, ready to return to class. “So the kids aren’t just acting like this because I’m new?”
“Nope. The first snowfall makes them feral. Every damn year.” I follow her into the bustling hallway, almost getting run over by a mob of children. “No running, Jeremiah!” Tamara says with a shake of her head. “By the time Skate Day arrives, they’re more beast than children.”
My stomach sinks as I part ways with her and enter my very active, noisy classroom. Skate Day is one problem I don't have a solution for yet.
CHAPTER 14
FOSTER
My alarm goes off at seven-forty-five. I roll out of bed and throw on a worn t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I don’t normally set alarms this early, but I have a lot to get done today.
Alright, I don’t. But I really want to see Beth before she leaves for work.
It’s been nine long days since I’ve laid eyes on her. Yes. I’ve been counting.
I was sure that some time and distance were what I needed to find perspective and come to terms that regardless of my feelings, nothing was going to happen between the two of us.
I can’t deny it anymore—I like Beth more than just a friend. It’s ridiculous, really. I’m twenty-nine years old; I shouldn’t get crushes like some awkward middle schooler. I’ve tried to remind myself of all the reasons I can’t pursue this, mainly that she’s Ben’s little sister and my temporary roommate. But my brain won’t listen to reason and I feel like a damn fool. My pulse picks up when I think about her. I can’t stop checking my phone to see ifshe texted me. And when she does message me, it’s like everything she says is the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard. Thinking about her has become a habit I can’t shake and it’s starting to mess with my head. A few days ago, I called her to ask if any packages had arrived. I wasn’t even expecting a delivery, I just wanted to hear her voice.
There’s no way I’m going to cross any lines. As much as I like her, she’s the definition of off-limits. No matter how strong this feeling is, I owe it to Ben—and to Beth—to keep things as they are.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to avoid her. Regardless of my infatuation with her, Beth has become one of my few friends. She’s easy to talk to and even easier to be around. Just because something can’t happen romantically between us doesn’t mean I don’t want her in my life.
Also, our friendly, bordering-on-flirty banter is the most fun I’ve had in years and I’m not about to give it up.
I find Beth in the foyer slipping out of those ridiculous pompom slipper socks she wears whenever she’s home.
She looks lovely. I mean, she always does, but today even more so. The dark green sweater dress she’s wearing is simple, but it hugs her body, tracing the lines of her figure in a way that makes it hard not to notice. Her dark hair is pulled back in a low messy bun, with a few tendrils loosely framing her face.
She straightens when she notices me. “Hey you. Long time no see.”
Too fucking long, I think.
“You look nice,” I tell her, honestly. Her cheeks flush and she smiles shyly.
“Thank you. I have my staff Christmas party afterschool today. I’ll be going there straight from work, so I won’t be in your hair.”
I frown. I was kind of looking forward to having her in my hair.
“Where is the party?” I’m trying to sound casual and have no idea if I’m succeeding.
“One of the vice principals’ houses. Don’t worry, I’m going to get an Uber to work and then grab a ride with a coworker so I don’t have to leave your car at the school. I have the app downloaded and ready to go.” She waves her phone, excitedly.
Dammit. Why does she have to be so adorable?
“I can drive you,” I say, already reaching for my coat.
She looks mildly panicked at the suggestion, though I have no idea why. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
