Page 11 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie (Second Chance Hockey Players #2)

Blake glances at me. “What’s funny?”

“Just a memory.”

“Of?”

I grin. “Sarah and I used to sneak up here all the time. I remember the trouble we caused Mr. Edinburgh, the coast guard.”

“You guys together were trouble all right. Sarah being the ringleader,” he says, making me chuckle.

“One time, we set up a fake distress signal just to see how fast they’d respond.”

Blake’s mouth drops open. “You little menace.”

“It was Sarah’s idea. And oh, they showed up in full gear.” I shake my head. “We, uh…, may have gotten a very aggressive lecture and a permanent warning.”

Blake barks out a laugh. “And here I thought you were the responsible one.”

I gasp, placing a hand on my chest. “I am responsible! We just also happen to be creative in our methods of entertainment.”

He snickers. “Yeah, that’s what criminals say.”

I shove his shoulder playfully, the touch too familiar, too easy. I shouldn’t be this comfortable around him anymore. Not after everything. “Please, if I was a criminal, I’d be one of those charming ones who gets away with everything.”

“Oh, no doubt. You’d bat those big eyes and walk out scot-free.”

I smirk. “Exactly.”

The laughter dies between us, and what’s left is silence as memories fill my head.

“I miss her…” The words slip out before I can stop them, barely a whisper, but loud enough to feel like they’ve cracked something open.

My voice wavers, thin and fragile. “I miss her so much. I miss her with a depth I can’t even put into words.

I miss everything about her—her laugh, her voice, the way she could make anything feel like an adventure. ”

My throat tightens, and I swallow, but the lump only grows. “I wish every day that she didn’t go…, that she didn’t decide to go be with God up there and become a singer for him. She should have waited a few more years so she could be with me here.”

Blake doesn’t say anything right away. He never rushes to fill the silence, never tries to patch over the raw parts. He just lets me talk.

“She’s with you, Princess.” His voice is steady, like it’s always been - calm, unwavering. he taps his chest, “Right here. All the time. Every time. Watching and cheering you on. And probably waiting for you to do something reckless and get her double thumbs up.”

I stare at him, my throat tightening. The way he says it - so certain, so Blake - makes something deep in my chest ache. A lone tear slips free before I can stop it, and I quickly wipe it away, turning back to the water.

Silence stretches between us, not awkward but full. Like he knows I need this moment, just as much as I know he won’t push. The waves crash against the rocks below, and the cool wind brushes against my skin.

Then…

“You know,” Blake starts casually, “if she is watching, she’s probably yelling at you right now for not pushing me into the water.”

A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. “You idiot.”

Blake grins, that same mischievous smile I’ve known since we were kids. “What? I’m serious. If I were a ghost, I’d demand entertainment. You’re really slacking here.”

I turn to him, shaking my head. “Oh, she absolutely would be. And she’d be screaming, ‘Whitney, you coward!’” I drop my voice, mimicking Sarah’s dramatic tone.

Blake grins. “Exactly. And then she'd probably add a ‘get off your ass and do something stupid.’"

I can almost hear Sarah’s laugh in the background, like she’s right there with us. And just like that, the conversation flows. The easy banter makes me forget—just for a moment—about everything weighing me down.

Then my phone buzzes.

My stomach knots.

I press the side button, silencing it.

Blake watches me. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but I do know it had to do with your family.” He shifts, his tone softer. “Staying up here won’t fix it, Whit.”

I cross my arms. “Why does everyone keep treating me like a kid?”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "Who’s treating you like a kid?"

"Literally everyone! The constant calls, the lectures, the whole ‘come home, Whitney’ thing - like I don’t have a brain of my own."

He shrugs. "Sounds less like treating you like a kid and more like people who care."

I grit my teeth, dragging a hand through my hair. “Right. Because you’ve suddenly become an expert on my life?”

After a moment, he stands, stretching. "It’s getting late." He glances at his watch.

I groan, standing up too, my legs stiff from sitting on the cold rock. “Ugh, fine. Guess I should head back before the search party rolls out.”

We start walking down the trail together, the sky darker now, stars peeking out from behind the clouds.

When we reach the bottom, he glances at me. “You need a ride home?”

I shake my head. “Nah, my car’s around the corner.”

Blake raises an eyebrow. “Come on, let me drive you. No point in walking the distance.”

I hesitate, but he gives me that easy, lopsided grin of his. “I won’t bite, promise.”

Rolling my eyes, I finally give in. “Fine.”

It doesn’t take long to get to my car. We sit there in his car for a second, the quiet stretching between us again.

I turn to him, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “Um… thanks. For earlier.” I swallow. “Just… thanks.”

Blake looks at me, his expression softening. “You’re welcome.”

I nod, then hop out of his car and into mine. As I pull out onto the road, I catch his headlights in my rearview mirror.

I frown, honking at him.

He just honks back and keeps following me.

All the way to my house.

When I park in the driveway, he gives one last honk before driving off, disappearing into the night.

I sit there for a moment, exhaling deeply before heading inside.

Dad is asleep on the couch, his face soft in the dim light. He must’ve been waiting for me.

Sighing, I grab a blanket and drape it over him. Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to his head. “Good night, Dad.”

He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake.

I slip into my room, peel off my clothes, and collapse onto my bed, face-first.

Tomorrow has to be better, I whisper.

As I drift to sleep, the last thing on my mind is the cliffs, and Blake.