Page 75 of Goal Line

The sound that comes from the back of Christopher’s throat isn’t quite a snort, but almost. “He looks like he wants to devour you,” he observes under his breath.

“Maybe he does.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I roll my lips between my teeth, knowing that I’ve said too much.

“Oh? Are youfinallyadmitting that there’s something going on between you two?”

Turning my head, I glance up at him, one eyebrow raised. “Finally?”

Christopher has always insisted that Luke must have feelings for me, but he never indicated that he thought I returned them. “Eva.” He says my name like he’s chiding me. “Be real right now. You couldn’t have possibly thought that marrying him wasn’t going to lead you both down this road.”

Couldn’t I have? “I had absolutely no intention of anything happening between us,” I say, so softly I can barely hear myself over the sound of our blades slicing across the ice and the chatter of the kids at the edges of the rinks.

He chuckles. “I love how easily you can lie to yourself.”

That stops me in my tracks, and I grab ahold of his arm, spinning us so we’re facing each other. “What the fuck does that mean?” My words are still quiet, but they come from the back of my throat.

He just gives me an affectionate smile. “Eva, there was never going to be any other end to your friendship. You were always headed on this path with him, whether you realized itor not. Maybe you never saw the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, but I did. And the way you look at him? That longing? You two have it so bad for each other, and I’m happy for you if you’re both ready to stop pretending.”

My lips part, but the only sound that comes out is a strangled laugh. What the hell is he talking about? Because if my true feelings for Luke Hartmann have been obvious to my skating partner for years, have they been obvious to my best friend, too?

Chapter Thirty

LUKE

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about why you wanted to meet?” Chloe says, and I try not to focus on how awkward it is to be talking to a therapist for the first time over a video call. How are you supposed to build an authentic connection with someone you’ve never even met in person?

If I hadn’t been so determined to be there at the end of Eva’s practice so I could take her to lunch and make sure she ate something, I probably would’ve flown down to Philadelphia to meet with Chloe.

“I’m going to be honest,” I say, before I glance over at my door. I’m sitting in one of the chairs in front of the window in my bedroom. Eva’s napping right now, and I know she’s unlikely to wake up and even more unlikely to barge in here with the door shut and locked, but somehow, I still feel like I need to keep an eye on the door anyway. “Ididn’treally want to meet.”

She nods, her blonde hair barely brushing her shoulders, but she says nothing.

“It’s not like I’m scared to talk about my feelings or anything,” I say, feeling the need to fill the silence. “It’s just that in my family, we don’t talk about things outside the family.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re always in the public eye?”

“Why?” Her eyebrows dip a bit as she asks the question, and I realize that she has absolutely no idea who I am, aside from the fact that I’m one of Zach’s teammates.

“My family is sort of...well known. I think the fact that we’re pretty close-knit and generally stay out of any rich-people drama makes the media constantly curious about us.” I shrug.

“Oh, so your family is famous?”

“Kind of.” My last name doesn’t seem to be registering with her, which is perfectly fine. It’s not like we’re a household name—a very intentional move on our part. There are plenty of other billionaires out there making complete asses of themselves, and that’s not what my family has ever wanted to be known for.

Dad focuses our efforts on the family business, the hockey team we own, and charitable work. Mom’s always had her riding program. They raised us in the small town my dad grew up in and sent us to public schools—well, except for Tristan, because he was “exceptional.” I’m pretty sure that was code for “much too smart and not nearly humble enough to play well with others.”

“All right. So what made you decide to meet, despite not wanting to?”

I glance away again, and then focus on my screen, noting that she’s sitting there with a polite but expectant look on her face. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

“Can you say more about that?”

I tell her what happened in Game 7. She asks some clarifying questions about Eva and my relationship with the Wilcotts, and suddenly I’m telling her all about both of our families, how my family owns our team, and my lifelong friendship with Eva.

“How did you feel about her being pregnant?”

“It’s complicated.”