Page 89 of Faking the Goal


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My pulse stutters, then races. "Yeah. Okay."

The outdoor rink sits behind the community center empty, smaller than the arena but somehow more intimate. Ryder laces up my borrowed skates with careful precision, his fingers warm against my frozen ankles.

"Ready?" he asks.

"As I'll ever be."

He takes my hand and pulls me onto the ice. It's smoother than I expected it to be, easier. Or maybe I'm just more comfortable with his hand in mine.

We circle the rink in silence, the scrape of blades and our breathing the only sounds. No phones. No cameras. No performance.

Just us.

"One more game," I say finally.

"One more game," he agrees. "Then we figure out what this is."

"What if we already know?"

He stops skating, pulls me to a halt beside him. We're in the center of the ice, face to face, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"Piper—"

"I turned down a reality show," I blurt out. "This morning. I called Devon, my manager, and said no."

His eyes darken. "You did? Wait, you were offered a reality show?"

I nod, "I was but I turned it down. I'm staying here. In Ashwood Falls. Creating something new for myself called Grizzly Girl—real Alaska content, not the filtered, perfect version. Authentic and messy and probably a terrible business decision, but it's mine."

"That's..." He searches for words. "That's incredible."

"I didn't do it for you," I say quickly. "I need you to know that. I did it for me."

"I know." His thumb traces circles on my palm. "That's what makes it incredible."

We're inches apart. His breath fogs between us. One of his hands finds my waist, and my free hand lands on his chest, feeling his heart race under my palm.

"We said we'd wait," he murmurs. "Until after the final game."

"We did say that."

"One more game."

"Yeah."

We just stand there staring at each othe.

Then he steps back, breaking the moment. "We should get you inside before you freeze."

Right. Because we have rules. Boundaries. A plan.

Even if every part of me wants to break it.

Sunday morning, I walk past the firehouse on my way to get coffee. There's a flyer taped to the window: NOW HIRING — COMMUNITY OUTREACH COORDINATOR.

I stop. Read it again.

Position involves coordinating educational programs, managing social media presence, organizing community events. Must be comfortable with public speaking and have experience with digital content creation. Salary: $52,000 annually plus benefits.