Page 66 of Golden Goal

“I figured it was casual.” I say before taking a few more bites of my soup.

He growls. “No.”

My heart sinks, but before I can say anything, he’s coming around my desk and tugging me to my feet. He pulls me to him, roughly gripping my hips. He stares at me for a second, his gaze dipping down to my mouth and then back up to my eyes.

“I don’t want to do casual with you.”

“Oh.” My voice is barely above a whisper, my heart racing.

He leans closer to me until his nose brushes mine, and I’m glad he closed the door. He rests his forehead against mine.

“When I’m with you, I feel like I can finally breathe. Like all the weight that’s been sitting on my shoulders is suddenly lighter. Casual implies we’re dating other people, and I don’t want to date anyone else. Just you. We can go as slow as you want as long as we’re exclusive.”

My brain feels as if it’s short circuiting. I can barely comprehend what he’s saying.

“How do you know all of that when we’ve only gone out once?”

“I just do, but if you don’t . . .” He pulls back, putting distance between us.

I don’t think. I simply act, grabbing his face and pulling him down so I can kiss him. He lets out a strangled sound, and I grip his hips, tugging him even closer. My tongue darts out, seeking entrance, and he opens for me, groaning.

Eventually, we pull away, both of us panting.

I take a deep breath. “I have a lot of baggage, Holt.”

“So you’ve said. Doesn’t change anything. I have a lot of baggage too, Becca.” He swallows, averting his gaze. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared, too.” His words come out haltingly, and his eyes dart back to my face for a second before he stares at the floor. “But I want to try. Will you be brave with me?”

I study him. Taking in his words. Noticing the vulnerability on his face. Shit, she really did do a number on him. I’d kind of gathered that, but I’d never stopped to think how much. I really do like him, as much as I’ve tried to tell myself I shouldn’t, and that I can’t, it hasn’t changed how I feel about him.

If he can be brave, so can I.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He lets me go and steps back. “Eat your lunch,” he says as he walks around my desk to retake his seat, and I don’t miss how he adjusts himself.

I sit and focus back on my food, since now I’m down to ten minutes before my next appointment.

“I’m meeting with a realtor tomorrow to check out a few houses,” he says, breaking the silence. “Will you go with me? I’m shit at picking out things.”

“Why don’t you ask Hadley? I’m sure she’d be happy to give you her opinion.”

“Because she’s even worse than I am. She’d say yes to the first house we saw. Besides, it’s your opinion that I want.”

I swallow a spoonful of soup. “Why? Why do you trust my judgment? You barely know me. How do you know I won’t have terrible opinions? What if I hate all the things you love in a house? Or like all the things you hate?”

He taps his temple. “Call it goalie intuition.”

I laugh. “That’s a bullshit answer. Try again.”

“Because I want a woman’s opinion, and you’re the woman I’m closest to.” He holds up a hand. “And before you say Hadley again, I love my sister, but she’d end up convincing me to buy a fixer upper because it would be fun to fix up.”

“I’ve never bought a house though. How the hell would I know what’s good, and what’s not?”

He shakes his head at me. “That’s okay, we’ll figure it out together. If I’m being completely honest, I just want an excuse to spend time with you.” He gives me a boyish grin, and my heart skips a beat.

“Oh,” I squeak out. I was not expecting that. I take a sip of my coffee, pulling myself together. “Fine, if you really want me to go with you, I will. But I can’t promise I’ll have any good opinions.”

“That’s okay. And I promise to feed you afterward. Your choice of what that is.” He smirks at me, and I can’t help but think about having something else in my mouth. “Becca,” he growls, as if he can read my mind.