Page 38 of Golden Goal

I know I sound like an idiot repeating what she said, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“I do.”

“Okay.” I nod, probably a little too vigorously, and hold the door open wider and step aside so she can come in.

She follows me into the kitchen and sets the dish on the counter.

“I’ll be right back. Have to go grab the salad,” she says before all but running out of my apartment.

I lay Hazel in her playpen in the living room and turn on the mobile she loves before grabbing what we’ll need for dinner, and setting the kitchen table.

The door opens, and Rebecca appears, a large bowl of salad in her hand.

“This smells delicious, Doc,” I tell her before scooping out pasta for both of us.

“Holt, what have I told you about calling me Rebecca when we’re not at work? Or even Becca.”

Becca? My heart hammers in my chest. I’ve never heard anyone call her that. I force myself to get it together. To not react. It’s just her name. It’s no big deal. But it sure as hell feels like a big deal.

Get it together.

“Here you go, Becca.” My voice sounds gravelly when I say her name, and I hope she doesn’t notice when she takes the plate I hand her. “We can sit at the table.” I gesture to the small table in the corner where I’ve set utensils and drinks out.

“Okay.” She sits down on one of the chairs.

After Hunter and Madison’s announcement at Thanksgiving, Rebecca seemed to become withdrawn. She disappeared for a while. I don’t think anyone else noticed, but I did.

I don’t know why her reaction to the news bothers me, but it does. Part of me is worried something else is going on. I shouldn’t be though. How she feels isn’t any of my business. We’re patient and doctor—friends at the most. Still, over the past few days, I kept trying to come up with a reason to go over to her place and make sure she was alright, but I couldn’t think of anything that sounded plausible enough.

Besides, I’m probably overreacting. Kat used to tell me all the time I was reading too much into things she said or did. So maybe I’m doing it again with Becca, and she’s fine.

Anyway, she’s here now, and she brought dinner. That must mean something, right? Or did she really just make too much food?

“Oh, the salad.” She hops to her feet as I take a seat, and grabs the forgotten bowl of greens. “Can’t forget our veggies.” She lets out a nervous chuckle as she sets the dish on the table and sits back down. “Dang it. I should have thought about making garlic bread.”

I pause with my fork full of spaghetti hovering over my plate. “This is fine, Becca. Pasta is more than enough carbs.”

She lets out a giggle that goes straight to my dick, and all of a sudden, it’s my favorite sound in the whole world, and I want to hear it again.

What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s my fucking doctor. My neighbor. Even if she wasn’t those things, she’s the ‘wifeing up’ type. The settling down kind of woman. The one you take home to meet your family over the holidays. I used to think I was that type of man, but Kat proved to me I’m not good enough. Nope, my focus is on my hockey career and raising my daughter now. That’s it.

“You can never have enough carbs,” she says before shoveling a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

I shake my head, going back to my dinner. “Maybe before a game, but not tonight. Not unless you want me to fall asleep twenty minutes after we eat.”

“Fair enough,” she concedes.

The rest of the meal passes mostly in silence—comfortable silence, but silence nonetheless—and I’m grateful that she appreciates the quiet as much as I do. Hadley always wants to talk, and Wes and the guys are even worse. Sometimes, a guy just wants to eat a meal in peace. Even Hazel is content in her playpen.

“Want to watch a movie?” I blurt out when we’re cleaning up.

Crap. Why’d I say that? She probably has other things to do. Or she’ll think it’s weird I’m inviting her to hang out. We’ve never hung out alone like this before.

“Sounds good to me. I was gonna go home and veg on the couch anyway,” she says.

“Good.” I check the clock on the oven. “Hazel needs a bottle, and then she should be down for the night. Or at least part of the night. But it might take me a little while to get her settled.”

“How about I clean up while you take care of her?”