My eyes get hot, and my throat goes thick like it has an icicle stuck inside it.
And that’s exactly when he glances at me. “Okay, Goldie?”
No.
No, I’m not okay.
I’m leaving in four days. I’m in love with the last man on earth I ever could’ve imagined giving the time of day a month ago. And I don’t know if he can consciously love me back.
“Wind got in my eyes,” I lie. “And I realized I need to go or I’ll be late for my meeting. And you’re going to be late for training too.”
He studies me, seeing right through me.
I smile like nothing’s wrong.
Like everything’s fine.
Knowing that tonight, I’m going to a Thrusters game with him, and then likely back to his place afterward for more casual sex that won’t feel casual at all.
Not to me.
But there’s zero chance I’d miss tonight for the world.
Seize the day, right?
Even when the more you seize it, the more it’ll hurt when it’s over.
“Keep practicing that throw,” he says to the girl. He pulls out his wallet, removes a business card, and hands that to her. “Here. You ever want tickets to a rugby match, have your parents text this number. And you—give her half your snowballs. Don’t be a dick. Got it?”
The girl giggles.
The boy makes a face, then he giggles too.
“And let the lady through before you throw again,” he adds as I start down the sidewalk.
He falls into step with me, glances at me once, tucks his hands into his pockets, and walks me the rest of the way back to my apartment in silence.
“Still on for tonight?” he says when we reach my door.
“I love hockey. I’d go to a game with my worst enemy.” I don’t have enough cheek behind it, and I think he notices.
“Give good advice today,” he says instead of calling me on anything.
He kisses the top of my head, and then he strides away.
And yes—I absolutely stare at his ass.
Then I shove all of my feelings into a box.
I have client meetings. Another preparatory call with the center in London. And I’m having lunch with Hallie and Brittany today.
My pre-broken heart can wait.
Or you can find your courage, a voice that sounds annoyingly like me on social media whispers in my head.
I’ll deal with that later too.
Possibly much later.
