Page 10 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

Chapter Nine

LUKE

“ I ’m fine, Dad, really,” Eva says into the phone.

She has her finger pressed against her other ear, like there’s some background noise she’s trying to block out, but the TV’s currently muted for her phone call.

“It just hurts to sit directly on my butt, so I don’t want to make the drive home today.

I’m fine here at Luke’s for another night. He’ll just bring me home tomorrow.”

She pauses, and reaches over to the coffee table and plucks a peach ring out of the package I left there for her.

“Yep, it’s fine,” she says. “He has a meeting in the morning with AJ—” She stops suddenly, and it seems like Charlie has interrupted her, but her eyes widen as she glances over at me.

I glance down quickly, stirring her favorite drink—mint tea with a splash of lemonade—hoping she didn’t just catch me staring at her.

I love having her around, especially since so much time passes between visits.

But I didn’t consider what it would be like to have her in my space like this.

Past summers, we’ve spent tons of time together, but it was always at one of our childhood homes, surrounded by childhood memories.

There were almost always other people around, and now, I’m painfully aware of how together the two of us are.

Last night, when she walked out into my living room, looking so damn gorgeous in that dress, I almost made a fucking fool of myself.

I don’t think she realizes how her body’s already changing.

..but I do. Her hair is longer and glossier than before.

Her skin glows, her breasts are bigger, and her hips are curvier.

She’s always been pretty, but that’s never been the thing I loved about her.

It’s the way she’s stronger than she realizes, determined without being stubborn, a perfect mixture of grace and athleticism, and funny as hell.

Even though her exterior persona can come across as cool and indifferent, she’s got an amazing heart and makes me smile like nobody else can.

I bring the mug of tea around the kitchen island and walk over to where she’s lying on my couch, propped up with pillows and a heating pad across her lower back.

“My dad wants to talk to you,” she says, handing me the phone while rolling her eyes and mouthing Sorry.

Handing her the mug, I take her phone. “Hey, Coach.” My whole life I’ve called Eva’s dad by his first name—Uncle Charlie when I was a kid, then Charlie when I was older.

But since I started playing for him, it feels weird to call him anything but Coach, even when we’re not doing something hockey related.

“Hey, son,” he says, and I swallow down the guilt at how I was just thinking about his daughter’s body. If he had any idea how I feel about her, he definitely wouldn’t trust me the way he does. “You sure you don’t mind Eva staying another night? I can come and pick her up if you need some space?”

“I’m positive,” I say, laughing to myself at how much I don’t want her to leave. Ever .

Is it hard having her here as a friend, when I have always wanted so much more than that with her? Obviously. Would I trade the moments I get to spend with her for...anything? Not a chance.

“All right. So tell me about this meeting with AJ.” The way he says it, as an invitation instead of a demand, makes me comfortable opening up.

“You didn’t know she wanted to meet with me?”

“No, but she meets with players all the time, and there’s no reason I would need to know. The general manager’s job is not the coach’s purview. Are you worried?”

I glance at Eva, not really wanting to admit in front of her how nervous I am about this meeting. But I don’t want to lie. “Yeah, a bit.”

“I wouldn’t be, if I were you,” he says.

“I’ve talked to her about the game, and the only thing she’s concerned about is your well-being.

That was a tough loss. It was a shit way to end the game and the season—for you, and for the team.

Everyone is disappointed that we didn’t win the Cup, but Luke, no one is mad at you about it. Least of all, AJ.”

I snort out a laugh. “I have a hard time believing that.” Especially since I haven’t heard from any of my teammates since we got off the plane in Boston over a week ago. Not one text. Not one call.

After the amount of time we spent together these last few months—not just practicing and playing together, but hanging out off the ice too—their silence is a concerning change.

“Be that as it may, I’m telling you the god’s honest truth, son.

So lick your wounds in private if you need to, but go into that meeting tomorrow with your head held high.

AJ didn’t bring you onto this team because she thought you were already the best player you could be.

She did it because she knows you’ve got a lot of growth ahead of you. Show her you still do.”

“How do I do that?” I mutter.

“You figure out how to put that game in the past and move on . You learn from what happened without dwelling on it. Believe it or not, every player’s been where you are at some point in their career.

Those who can’t move past it, generally don’t keep playing.

I want you to keep playing, and I’m assuming you want that too? ”

“Yeah.” I let out a deep breath, because that might be the first time I’ve actually admitted that to myself.

I’ve been playing the end of that game back in my mind, over and over, thinking there’s no way AJ would want to keep me on the team after that.

No way Charlie would still want me to play for him.

No way my teammates would be able to forgive me.

But maybe...maybe the first thing that needs to happen is forgiving myself?

And then I can prove to myself, my teammates, Charlie, and AJ that I still deserve a place on this team.

“Good,” Charlie says. “So let’s move on, then.”

“ W hat do you think Lizzie would have done if Darcy had come out of that pond with no clothes on?” Eva laughs, her head shaking the pillows on my lap.

It’s taking all my focus not to let my body react—her head’s basically on my dick and her laughter is sending vibrations through the pillows.

If she doesn’t stop that, she’s going to be resting her head on my hard-on.

Goddamn, this is like being right back in high school again with the way I’m lusting after her nonstop.

Back then, I had to watch her flirt with just about every guy but me .

At least now, I don’t have to see that shit in real time.

..though the evidence of her “Italian affair” is growing more apparent every day.

“Honestly? Her poor little virgin heart probably would’ve had a heart attack at the sight, and she’d be buried at Pemberley,” I say. “Darcy would secretly visit her grave every day, leaving her flowers and pining after a life that could have been if he hadn’t been such a snob.”

Eva turns her head and looks up at me, laughing—but that smile quickly turns to a wince as she reaches behind her and presses the heel of her hand into her lower back. “Shit.”

“Muscle spasm?” I ask, moving her hand out of the way. I dig my thumb into the tense cord of muscle, moving along it like I did throughout the first episode of Pride and Prejudice hours ago .

She sighs, her lips parting and her eyes closing, and fuck me if she doesn’t look like she’s having a sexual experience. The groan she releases has me even more on edge.

I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my high-rise condo and realize that it’s almost fully dark.

I’m about to suggest we order dinner when Eva says, “I feel so fucking helpless right now. I couldn’t even take my own skates off today, and I can barely move without my back spasming—all because I did a spin I’ve done a thousand times before and got dizzy.

Is this going to happen every time I skate?

How are Christopher and I going to train? ”

“It was just unlucky timing. You probably had low blood sugar because you didn’t eat anything before we skated. We’ll ask the doctor tomorrow.”

I hadn’t really known where to start in terms of helping Eva find an OB, so I’d texted our team doctor because I figured she’d have a recommendation.

Not that recommending obstetricians is a normal part of being a doctor in the NHL, but I couldn’t exactly ask one of my teammates who has kids, and I figured Dr. D’Angelis was bound by HIPAA not to tell anyone else about my request.

She’d texted me back, letting me know her best friend was an OB and asked if I needed her to get me an appointment quickly. Lo and behold, we have something scheduled for lunchtime tomorrow. I don’t even want to guess what she thinks of my request.

“We?” Eva asks.

“Or you, if you don’t want me to come with you.”

It’s totally understandable if she doesn’t want you at that appointment with her , I remind myself. I don’t know why I even want to be there—it’s not my baby. But it’s Evie’s, and I want to be there for her.

“I do,” she says, her voice sounding small and quiet. “Want you there, I mean. Suddenly, this all feels...too much. I thought I could handle this...skating, competing, being a mom. And now I’m worried that it’s too big of a challenge. What if I let him down? ”

“Let who down? Christopher?” I ask, trying to soften the hard edge in my voice that reveals exactly how I feel about him. But I hear it, and I’m sure she does too.

“Yeah. He’s my partner , Luke. This affects him as much as it affects me.”

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for him .”

Am I mad about that? Or just mad that he’s basically replaced me as the person she’s closest to? It’s been torture, watching them grow closer over the years—the way their skating became so in sync and intimate, that it was like watching two people with one soul.

That’s probably why half the internet thought they were in a relationship for the past few years.

The video compilations that constantly show up on social media—the two of them staring into each other’s eyes as they glide across the ice, their bodies wrapped together as they do some death-defying spin, him picking her up and kissing her forehead every time they finish their routine.

It all makes it seem like they’re in a serious relationship.

Which they are, but it’s a professional one. Something Eva started to forget, leading her straight into this mess.

“Luke.” She says my name as a warning to not pit myself against him.

I grit my teeth together. “He should have been looking out for you.”

“He was looking out for me. That’s why he didn’t let anything happen between us.” She sighs and looks down at her lap. “It’s not his fault that I let all those crazy fans who were shipping us convince me that there was something more.”

I notice her full pink lips turn down at the corners while her eyebrows dip together with an adorable crease between them, and it takes all my willpower to avoid wrapping her in my arms and telling her it’s all going to be okay.

“I know you got caught up in everything,” I say, still angry at how Christopher Fucking Steele played into the fan’s narrative: kissing and hugging her to give the fans something to talk about, basking in the limelight as people speculated that something was developing between them.

And he was so damn convincing, she fell for it. “But he’s guilty too.”

“The only thing he’s guilty of is insisting we keep things professional.”

“ Nooo , he’s guilty of convincing everyone—you included—that he had feelings he didn’t really have.”

“So much of pairs skating is about the chemistry between the two skaters,” she reminds me. “All he did was fulfill that part of the performance particularly well.”

My free hand flexes against my thigh as I try to keep myself from responding about how he led her on for years . How could a man spend that much time with her, touch nearly every part of her body, and convince everyone he was falling for her...but not actually fall?

Meanwhile, all she has to do is smile at me and I can hardly breathe.

“And that night in Italy?” I ask, hoping she’ll finally tell me everything.

“What about it?”

“When you told him how you felt? What actually happened?”

“I already told you. I decided to lick my wounds with alcohol and get over him with some guy I met at the bar, then ended up figuring out I was pregnant months later. ”

There are so many questions I still have about that night. Was it her first one-night stand? Why didn’t she get the guy’s name? How could she have failed to protect herself against the possibility of pregnancy? Or worse, an STI?

“Did it help you get over Christopher, at least?” I ask instead.

Her full, glossy lips turn up at the corner. “Actually, yeah. I think I felt...I don’t know. Embarrassed, for sure, that he didn’t return those feelings. But also, maybe a little...relieved?”

Well, this is new information. “Relieved? Why?”

“Once I knew that it was all just a performance for him, I was able to look at my own feelings a bit more critically as well. It made me realize that everyone calling us the ‘Perfect Pair’”—she makes air quotes as she references the moniker fans gave them after they took home their first gold at US Nationals—“made me think that things actually would be perfect if we were together. That I would be perfect.”

You already are perfect, just the way you are . I desperately want to convince her of this, but that goes way beyond best friend territory.

“And you got all that from having sex with a stranger?” I tease. Maybe it’s something I should try? Maybe having sex would help me get over Eva? It’s not like I haven’t considered the possibility before.

She reaches up and bonks my forehead with the heel of her hand.

“No, dumbass,” she says with a laugh as I grab her hand and bring it down to the pillow, keeping my own hand wrapped around hers.

“It wasn’t having sex with someone else that made me realize my own feelings weren’t that strong, it was knowing that he didn’t have those feelings for me at all. ”

Well shit, that’s no help. I’ve known since our senior year of high school that Eva was never going to see me as more than a friend. Eight years later, my own feelings haven’t changed. Unfortunately, neither have hers.