Page 29 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

I’ve tried to explain that you can date even if you prefer your best friend’s company—a point I’ve also modeled.

Is there anyone I’d rather spend time with than Luke?

No. But when we hit high school, and everyone started to think we were more than friends, despite the fact that Luke repeatedly explained that there was nothing but friendship between us, I realized that I needed to start dating.

Either that, or I was going to have to admit to myself that he’s the guy I measure everyone else against—the one who’s totally perfect for me in every way.

And since dating him is out of the question, I had to explore other options, or I was going to waste away my high school years pining for my best friend.

Reese snorts his response, and when I glance at him, he says, “I mean, just look at her. ”

I do, and I regret it, because she’s trailing a finger down his breastbone, right between his pecs. Not many guys our age have bodies as built as Luke’s. At over six feet tall, he’s wrapped in corded muscles that make him look a lot older than he is.

“Okay, what do you think she sees in him ?”

“You mean, besides the Hartmann name?” Reese asks, sarcasm evident in his tone. “And that he’s probably going to be prom king? And that he’s the captain of the state championship hockey team with a spot on Boston College’s team already lined up? And obviously pretty good looking, and way too nice?”

I elbow him in the side without even looking at him. “Yeah, aside from that.”

I get it, I really do. Luke is perfect. It’s an undeniable fact.

Dating other guys over the last four years has had the opposite of its intended effect.

Instead of taking my mind off Luke, it’s a constant comparison game.

Luke would never say something like that to me.

Luke wouldn’t be half an hour late for our date.

Luke wouldn’t cancel plans to hang out with the guys . ..I could go on and on.

And yet, it feels like something has shifted between us this spring.

His glances and friendly touches linger every-so-slightly longer.

I’ve tried to convince myself it’s just because we know we’re headed in opposite directions this summer—I’m moving to LA to skate with a new partner, and he’s heading to a hockey camp before starting at BC in the fall.

These are the last months we have together, so it’s natural we’d want to spend more time together. It doesn’t mean anything.

Yet, I’ve seen a difference in the way Luke looks at me, and now I can’t unsee it. Now, I read every text he sends, searching for any subtle sign of sexual innuendo. And I’ve found plenty. Our normal playful banter now sounds and feels a lot like flirting.

All of it is enough to make me hope for something I never dared to hope for before.

And then, there’s our prom agreement: if neither of us is dating someone when prom rolls around, we’ll go together.

It’s still just shy of a month away, so I’ve been nervous to ask him about it—it doesn’t feel quite close enough to the date to conclude that neither of us is going with someone else, but I’ve secretly been shopping for dresses online for weeks, so that I’ll have the perfect option picked out, should we end up going together.

Then, earlier this week, Sadie made it public knowledge that she plans to be Luke’s date for prom.

And as I watch him wrap his hand around hers, pulling her fingers away from his chest, I note that he doesn’t let go.

He’s standing there, holding her hand in the middle of the courtyard in front of our entire senior class at lunchtime.

There’s no way to misconstrue this level of public affection, especially as she steps even closer to him, barely a breath apart now.

“Think he’s going to ask her to prom?” I wonder aloud. In my heart, I already know the answer. Sadie is exactly his type—tall and blonde, with long legs and a fake tan.

“He definitely is,” Reese says. “He said he has this top-secret but very elaborate plan...” He pauses, and we both watch as Sadie leans up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on Luke’s cheek.

I don’t wait to hear what Reese says next. I don’t want to know anything about this plan, and I don’t want to watch them together. Instead, I speed diagonally across the courtyard toward the entrance of the math and science building, where my next class starts in ten minutes.

Everything is blurry through the tears filling my eyes. Behind me, I hear Luke call my name, so I put my head down and walk even faster, which is probably why I don’t see anyone in front of me until I’ve run smack into him.

I stumble backward from the impact, but he reaches out and grasps both my shoulders to steady me.

When I glance up, Warner James is staring down at me, amusement forming creases near his eyes.

Warner transferred here from our rival high school earlier this year and has always had some sort of vendetta against Luke.

He’s flirted with me every single day for the past few months in English class and told me, just last week, that if I ever wanted to make Luke jealous, I should come find him. And like a freaking angel, he’s appeared right when I need him most.

“You okay?” he asks.

“No.”

He glances over my shoulder, then back down at me. “This about Hartmann?”

“Yes. Is your offer still open?”

He smiles down at me like he knows he’s about to get his way. “Always.”

“How do you feel about prom?”

“I’m not opposed.”

He reaches out and wraps his hand behind my neck, at the same time I reach up and fist the fabric of his button-down to pull him closer. “Ask me.”

“Go to prom with me? ”

“Absolutely,” I say and push up onto my toes to kiss him.

We’re not in the dead center of the courtyard like Luke was with Sadie, but enough people are around that this won’t go unnoticed.

Which is exactly what I need—a perfectly good distraction so I don’t have to face the heartbreak from hoping that Luke had feelings for me, only to find out he was going to ask Sadie Fucking Montgomery to prom.

He pulls back from the kiss and looks down at me with a self-satisfied smile before quietly saying, “This will be fun.” And then he’s looking past me and pulling me to his side with an arm around my shoulder. “Hey, Hartmann. Did Eva tell you we’re going to prom together?”

Luke’s gaze shifts to my face, and I’m not even sure what I see in his eyes. He looks hurt that he’s hearing this information from Warner and not from me. But I can’t focus on that, because I’m too busy pouring all my energy into holding back my tears.

I’ve never been the sentimental type, but a revenge date to prom, when I really wanted to go with my best friend, was not how I planned to end my senior year.

“ O h, honey,” Morgan says, her hand covering her mouth as she shakes her head. I can’t tell if she’s laughing at me or horrified that I’d dared to hope Luke had feelings, only to watch him cozying up with the cheer captain in public. “Did you guys ever talk about that?”

I sigh as I watch her bring her wineglass up to her lips, wishing I could have a drink right now to help me relax.

Pregnancy is such a mind-fuck—on the one hand, it’s got my body convincing me that I want Luke again, and on the other, it’s got my brain tricking me into thinking he could feel the same way.

The hormones have to be responsible for my heightened sex drive.

That, and the fact that sharing my apartment with Luke means I don’t have the ability to satiate those needs because he’s always around.

Even this afternoon in the shower, I could barely make myself come because all I could think about was that it would feel so much better if the man just on the other side of my bathroom door was the one touching me.

Goddamn, the need to have sex feels fucking overwhelming, and knowing that I can’t only magnifies the feelings.

“You okay?” Morgan asks, snapping me out of my fantasy of Luke and me in the shower. “You’re kind of flushed.”

“Sorry, just...” I shake my head to clear my thoughts, trying to remember what she asked in the first place.

“Yeah, we kind of talked about it, later on. He actually tried to play it off like the only reason he went with Sadie was because I was going with Warner—like that wasn’t what he’d planned all along. ”

Morgan tilts her head, studying me. “How’d you feel about that?”

“I don’t remember,” I say with a shrug, even though, of course, I damn well remember.

At some point before prom, Luke had said I thought we were going to go together , as if he hadn’t been the one planning to ask Sadie.

The only reason I was going with Warner was to cover up how hurt I was that he’d chosen her over me.

So instead of being honest about my feelings, I’d teasingly said, You flatter yourself, as if the thought of us going together was preposterous.

It’s a phrase that has stuck with us for nearly a decade.

“It seems like”—Morgan raises her eyebrows—“maybe you guys need to talk about that?”

“Me and Luke?” I practically screech. I can think of nothing more mortifying than telling him the truth.

“Yeah, you and Luke. I think it would be good for the two of you to have an honest, open conversation about how you feel about each other.”

“I think we’re well established on the fact that we’re just friends.”

“Who happen to be married.”

“Exactly. Believe me, we’ve talked about all of this, over and over.”

She lifts one shoulder and gives me a small smile before saying, “If you say so.”

Then she changes the subject, telling me about all the weddings she’s in this summer, starting with her cousin, Lauren’s, later this month, and ending with her mom’s fourth marriage at the end of the summer.

And even while I’m listening, I can’t brush aside her comment that Luke’s “feelings are obvious.”

I want to believe her. But I’ve read that situation wrong with him once before, and getting it wrong this time could ruin our whole arrangement.