Page 5 of My One & Goalie
Jackson, Harper, and Luke climb into their truck, waving goodbye to MILF and her kid. I saunter away to my car and toss my gear into the trunk. I’m about to head out when I notice the MILF still in the lot.
The sun’s sinking fast and the wind’s picked up, knocking the temperature down a solid ten degrees. She’s behind the wheel, cranking the engine. There’s a faint click-click-click sound and she’s shaking her head. Another crank, another click-click-click.
Even from this distance, I know the battery’s dead.
Well, shit. We’re the only two cars left in the lot. It’d be a real dick move to leave a mom and her kid alone in a dark, cold parking lot with a dead SUV.
Huffing out a breath, I shove my hand in my jacket pocket and stride over.
I tap on the window. “Car trouble?”
Her hand flies to her chest, those full lips forming a perfect pink ‘O.’
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard the clicking from across the lot.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She inches the door open and flips her blonde hair over her shoulder. “The car won’t start.”
“I’m pretty sure you have a dead battery. You have jumper cables?”
Huffing out a sigh, she shakes her head. “No. I let my brother borrow them and never got them back.”
“You have AAA?”
“Also no. Cancelled that to save some money.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, her brow furrowing. “Looks like that wasn’t the best choice.”
“I’ll check to see if I have any cables in my car, but I kinda doubt it. I’m Xander, by the way.”
“Rachel. Again. I mean, I know you already knew that—” she babbles, her cheeks staining pink.
“Right. Rachel. I’ll be right back.”
I jog across the lot to my car, but I don’t have any cables in the Porsche. Well, shit. Now what? I could call a tow truck and wait with her, but that’s gonna take forever. Plus, the sun’s all the way down and the wind’s whipping. Her kid’s sitting in the back seat, playing on her phone. He’ll freeze to death by the time anyone gets here.
Kicking around my options, I hustle back. “Sorry, no cables. I’ll give you a ride home.”
“What? No, it’s fine. I can call my ex.”
Her ex.So she’s single.
I study her face, her shoulders slumped in utter defeat, and put two and two together pretty quickly. She does not want to call that guy.
“It’s no big deal. I’m assuming you live close, right? Like, I’m not taking you to Boston or anything?”
She laughs, the sweet, melodic sound lightening the tension. “No, not heading into the city tonight. We live a few blocks away. Are you sure, though? I hate to put you out.”
I shrug, acting nonchalant. Like rescuing this woman’s not going to be the highlight of my whole damn day.
“Yeah, c’mon.”
Rachel and Jett climb out of the Kia—the SUV’s gotta have almost one hundred thousand miles on it, at least—and she grabs the booster from the backseat.
Together, we trudge over to the Porsche and I take the booster from her, our fingertips brushing. Electricity sparks down my arm at the touch and her breath hitches, but she looks away.
I push the passenger seat forward and try to figure out what to do with the booster seat, but I’m clueless. Kids are way out of my wheelhouse.
“Uh—I don’t have a lot of experience with these sorts of things.” I gesture at the car seat. “You might want to do it.”
“Oh, right. Sure.”