Page 15 of My One & Goalie
“Come on. Of course it’s exciting. You’re living every boy’s dream.”
“True.” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. “Hockey’s great. I love playing, my team’s doing well this year. We’ve had a few good seasons.”
“What’s it like? Do you travel all the time?”
“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m on the road about half the time. There’s some downtime, but during the season I’m pretty focused on hockey.”
“Do you have family in Boston?” She tips her head, peering over at me.
“My mom passed a few years ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. She was sick for a long time, so it wasn’t a shock. My dad lives out on the West coast with family number two. It’s pretty much just me on my own.”
“Oh.” She spins her rings around on her slender finger and I sense another question hovering on her lips, but she doesn’t ask.
“I’m single, if that’s what you want to know.” I catch the soft blush of her cheeks out of the corner of my eye.
“Good to know. And, um, I’m sorry about last night. Jumping you like that, in front of my ex.”
I lick my lip, cutting my gaze at her for a quick second. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
“It was inappropriate of me. Consent and all that.”
“Trust me—it’s fine.” I wink and she flushes crimson. “Here we are.”
I pull into the lot of the Starlight Bay Garage and together we walk into the front office. A woman in her mid-twenties stands atthe counter, tapping on a keyboard. She glances up as the front bell chimes, announcing our arrival.
“Oh hey, Rachel. We’ve got the Kia all ready to go. I have the key somewhere around here?—”
She rifles through a stack of clear plastic folios, finally locating the paperwork and sliding it across the counter. Rachel pulls out her wallet, flipping through for her credit card.
“You’re all paid up,” the woman says.
“What?”
“Yeah, says so right here.” She taps at the large block letters scrawled in red ink at the top of the invoice. “PAID.”
Rachel peers over at me. “Xander. I can’t let you pay for my car repair.”
“Yes, you can. And I did. We’re good.” I pluck the key from the folio and drop the shiny metal into Rachel’s palm.
“I can’t. It’s too much.”
“It’s not.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
“No.” I hold firm, folding her fingers over the key. “Let me do this for you. And for Jett.”
Her lips press into a tight line and her eyes shine under the bright fluorescent office light.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“The Kia’s in the lot,” the woman says, pointing off to the right. “Thanks for your business!”