O Goalie Night (The Ottawa Otters #1)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

FOSTER

M y alarm goes off at seven-forty-five. I roll out of bed and throw on a worn t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I don’t normally set alarms this early, but I have a lot to get done today.

Alright, I don’t. But I really want to see Beth before she leaves for work.

It’s been nine long days since I’ve laid eyes on her. Yes. I’ve been counting.

I was sure that some time and distance were what I needed to find perspective and come to terms that regardless of my feelings, nothing was going to happen between the two of us.

I can’t deny it anymore—I like Beth more than just a friend. It’s ridiculous, really. I’m twenty-nine years old; I shouldn’t get crushes like some awkward middle schooler. I’ve tried to remind myself of all the reasons I can’t pursue this, mainly that she’s Ben’s little sister and my temporary roommate. But my brain won’t listen to reason and I feel like a damn fool. My pulse picks up when I think about her. I can’t stop checking my phone to see if she texted me. And when she does message me, it’s like everything she says is the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard. Thinking about her has become a habit I can’t shake and it’s starting to mess with my head. A few days ago, I called her to ask if any packages had arrived. I wasn’t even expecting a delivery, I just wanted to hear her voice.

There’s no way I’m going to cross any lines. As much as I like her, she’s the definition of off-limits. No matter how strong this feeling is, I owe it to Ben—and to Beth—to keep things as they are.

But that doesn’t mean I’m going to avoid her. Regardless of my infatuation with her, Beth has become one of my few friends. She’s easy to talk to and even easier to be around. Just because something can’t happen romantically between us doesn’t mean I don’t want her in my life.

Also, our friendly, bordering-on-flirty banter is the most fun I’ve had in years and I’m not about to give it up.

I find Beth in the foyer slipping out of those ridiculous pompom slipper socks she wears whenever she’s home.

She looks lovely. I mean, she always does, but today even more so. The dark green sweater dress she’s wearing is simple, but it hugs her body, tracing the lines of her figure in a way that makes it hard not to notice. Her dark hair is pulled back in a low messy bun, with a few tendrils loosely framing her face.

She straightens when she notices me. “Hey you. Long time no see.”

Too fucking long , I think.

“You look nice,” I tell her, honestly. Her cheeks flush and she smiles shyly.

“Thank you. I have my staff Christmas party after school today. I’ll be going there straight from work, so I won’t be in your hair.”

I frown. I was kind of looking forward to having her in my hair.

“Where is the party?” I’m trying to sound casual and have no idea if I’m succeeding.

“One of the vice principals’ houses. Don’t worry, I’m going to get an Uber to work and then grab a ride with a coworker so I don’t have to leave your car at the school. I have the app downloaded and ready to go.” She waves her phone, excitedly.

Dammit. Why does she have to be so adorable?

“I can drive you,” I say, already reaching for my coat.

She looks mildly panicked at the suggestion, though I have no idea why. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I don’t mind. You can fill me in about your week on the way. Tell me what I’ve missed.” Aside from you .

“But…it’s just…you know.” She’s practically squirming with unease.

Has something changed while I was gone? We've spent the past week trading texts, each exchange of our banter easily becoming the best part of my day. Why does it suddenly seem like she can’t get away from me fast enough?

“Okay,” I laugh to mask my disappointment. “I can take a hint. Have a good time at your party.” I shoot her what I hope is a convincing smile before I start to walk away.

“No one at school knows I’m Ben’s sister.”

I turn back around, not knowing what this has to do with me driving her to school. “Okay. ”

“And they definitely don’t know I’m staying with you.”

Ah.

“Beth,” I hedge, playfully. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

She covers her face with her hands. “No! Of course not. But if they see you dropping me off, they’re going to have questions. What if someone recognizes you?”

“I won’t wear my goalie mask.”

“Foster, please.” Her hands find her hips and my eyes linger there for a moment too long. “People Magazine put you in their Fifty Most Beautiful Athletes edition last year.”

I grin. “Did you purchase that magazine?”

“No.” Her denial comes too quickly and she won’t meet my eye.

“Oh wow, you did. Do you have it here? Do you want me to sign it?” I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, but she’s so fucking cute when she’s embarrassed. I hated every goddamn second of that photoshoot, but her reaction right now makes every awkward pose worth it.

This is the best day of my life.

“I hate you,” she says pushing past me.

“Wait,” I rush ahead of her, putting myself between her and the door. “I’ll wear a hat and sunglasses. No one is going to recognize me.”

“But they still might ask who you are.”

I shrug. “Tell them I’m your boyfriend.”

Am I a masochist? Maybe.

She looks shocked by the suggestion. I’d be offended if she wasn’t blushing so hard. “No one is going to believe that, Foster,” she takes her coat from the closet and throws it on .

“Why not?”

“Well, for one, this.” She waves her hand dramatically like she’s drawing an imaginary circle around me. “And then there’s this.” She repeats the motion only on herself this time.

“I’m not following.”

At this she laughs, rolling her eyes. “Of course you’re not. You know what, it’s fine. Let’s go, fake boyfriend.”

We catch up on the drive to school. She talks about her students and what they’ve been working on in class. I update her on one of the team’s forwards, Fischers, who got injured in the last game we played against Colorado. He’s fine, but he’ll be sidelined for at least the next three games.

When she informs me that she’s found a yoga studio nearby and has attended a few classes I do my best to not picture her clad in lycra as she bends herself into various positions.

It’s very difficult.

As I pull into the elementary school parking lot, the morning hustle is in full swing. Minivans and SUVs are lined up as kids with backpacks almost as big as they are jump out and wave goodbye to their parents.

There are a couple of teachers standing at the top of the steps in front of the main entryway. One is a guy around my age who definitely takes notice of our arrival. I track his movements as he steps forward smiling. He halts in his tracks when he notices there are two people in the car.

“Thank you for driving me on your day off.”

“Hey, what are fake boyfriends for? ”

“Like I said, no one would ever buy that,” she laughs, unbuckling her seat belt and getting ready to leave.

“If you want to be really convincing, you could kiss me goodbye,” I smirk at her from behind my sunglasses. Yup. Definitely a masochist.

Her mouth forms a perfect “o” shape as her eyes fall to my mouth. “That seems like overkill. I, um…I’ll probably be home late tonight.”

“Let me know if you need me to pick you up.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you. Don’t wait up.” Giving me a departing grin, Beth hops out and shuts the door. She quickly scurries across the pathway and up the stone steps.

The fuck I won’t.