Page 4 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance (Midlife Meet Cute #6)

Zach

Iwait for the last person vying for Rebecca’s attention to finish before I approach her.

Can’t help but admire her resolve. She’s still the spitfire I remember.

Just a little older, although she looks the same to me.

She does appear more professional with her highlighted blonde hair cut to shoulder length instead of falling down her back.

And she traded in her jeans and hockey T-shirt for business attire, which accents her curves to perfection.

But it’s still her. The girl I fell hard for once and let go of in pursuit of my NHL dreams. A short-lived dream but, nonetheless, the one I wanted.

Until the NHL didn’t want me anymore. Three injuries and two surgeries on the same knee forced me to retire sooner than I would have liked.

But it is what it is. I found a way to stay in the game, even if it’s not on the ice.

Seeing Rebecca again, though, I can’t help wondering if what we had could have been the longer-lasting dream.

Not long after I got an NHL contract, I went back to see her, but her father made it clear she was better off without me.

Then, my sister was diagnosed with brain cancer and passed away when Laney was five, leaving me as her sole guardian.

Still, if I’d tried harder, maybe we’d be together today.

As I approach, she clasps her hands in front of her, a smile still present but strained, unlike the easy one she presented to the others she spoke to. But her startling gray-blue eyes are what stop me in my tracks, just like they always did in the past.

“Good to see you, Rebecca.” And it is. More so than I expected.

“Been a while, Zach. How are you?” Her eyes dart to the side as if she’s looking for an excuse to walk away from me.

And I wouldn’t blame her. I pretty much did that to her.

“I’m…good. For the most part.” I pat my right leg above the knee. “Would have liked to have played longer, but you know.”

She nods. “I’d heard. But you’ve done well in broadcasting.”

Pushing my jacket back, I slip my hands into my pants pockets, adding a teasing tone to my voice. “Does that mean you’ve been following my career?”

A slight flush appears on her cheeks. “No, but one hears things when you work in the same industry.”

“Of course.” I find the contradiction between her reaction to my question and her reply fascinating. Maybe she didn’t forget about me either.

“Did you have any other questions?” Her tone is distant and professional, but that just challenges me to find out if the soft, sweet Becks I remember is still in there somewhere.

She fiddles with a button on her sleeve above her wrist—the same spot I used to love to kiss. When she notices I’m staring at her fingers, she jerks her arm to her side.

That must mean she remembers, too, right? “Just one. Have dinner with me tonight?”

A short laugh escapes her full lips. “Thank you, but no.”

I don’t walk away that easily. At least, not anymore. “I could use a couple of quotes for my coverage.”

“Then you’re proposing an interview over a meal?”

“Sure, let’s call it that.” A soft chuckle accompanies my words.

Her eyes narrow. “In that case, lunch tomorrow, my office.”

There’s the spitfire I remember. “Deal. I’ll bring the food.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” She flashes me another strained smile before walking away.

Captivated, I observe her every movement as she interacts with her staff, then stops briefly to chat with her GM. And I’m still standing there when she casts a glance my way just before leaving the rink.

Apparently, our years apart did little to diminish my feelings for Rebecca because I’m right back in that place, on the ice, with eyes only for her.

Searching for her in the seats to see if she’s there and if she had snuck into the arena wearing my jersey.

Taking her out on dates on the sly so her father wouldn’t know, though I suspect he did right from the beginning.

Kissing her for the first time and the last time, right before the trade.

It’s the stuff after that I wish I could forget. Once I got called up to the NHL, I had to focus more, and that left little opportunity for other things like trying to make a long distance relationship work. And then Laney became a permanent fixture in my life.

Maybe this next gig is the universe’s way of giving us a second chance. But the question looming larger than life is, will she give me another shot?

My phone lights up when I get back to my hotel. Chase’s contact photo shows on the screen, so I answer it, hoping he’s calling with a recent development, although after seeing Rebecca, I’m not sure I’d be as interested anymore.

“How’d it go?” His barely suppressed excitement bleeds over the connection.

“Fine. The usual. No big deal.” That’s the story I’m telling Chase. Meanwhile, my insides are humming with the same tension I would get when I sped down the ice, working the puck for a shot on goal, heart racing and legs pumping until I swung the stick with everything I had.

“So…how did she react when she saw you?”

I groan. “Don’t go there, Chase. This is strictly professional.”

He snorts. “Come on, man. It had to be epic.”

It was. But I’m not telling him that.