She raises an eyebrow. “Well, he’s not here yet.” She shifts the hammer to her other hand. “My mom’s got drama at her office again, so she’s staying late until the hecklers clear, and Ham stayed with her.”
“So, it’s just you.” A warm flush creeps up my neck. It should be illegal how she does that. How does she actually change the temperature of my body?
“My dad’s around,” she adds like a warning.
Ba-dum … Whomp!
A series of thumps rattles the porch. I don’t need to turn my head to confirm the goats are back.Lottie exhales, her gaze following the thumps. “I came home early to fix the gate. As youcan see, my goats got out again, and they only listen to me. My dad has given up trying to discipline them.”
“Understandable.” I give a side-eye in that direction. I don’t know how much I should reveal about the humble way they greeted me. “Your goats are terrifying.”
A soft burst of laughter slips from her lips, hitting me square in the sternum. It’s crazy how I both forgot that sound and yet instantly recognize it.
“Oh, please. You just need to know how to talk to them,” she says, nudging me forward with a wave of the hammer. “And come on. If you’re here, you’re helping.”
I’m clearly not arguing with a woman wielding a hammer, and I follow her down the porch steps and around the side of the house. I have no idea where we’re going, but luckily, we don’t walk more than a few steps before she calls, “Crunch, follow me.”
When Crunch steps forward, I get a better look at him. I’ve never actually seen a goat that big. With the perfect shade of gray, he must be crossbred with a rhino. He locks eyes with me, and then, like we’re in a horror movie, he charges at full speed.
My life flashes before my eyes. “Nope,” I tell him, backing up and waving my hands frantically. “Remember you’re a vegetarian, and I taste bad!”
Lottie snickers, trying not to laugh. “Don’t worry. That’s his he-likes-you trot. He’s coming to say hi.”
“No!” I repeat because that seems to be the only word that fits this encounter. “That’s not what he’s doing. That’s not a trot.” Having already seen him in action with the Uber, I’ve lost all trust for him and jump back. He’s faster than me, and he rams my leg. I freeze as he sniffs my sneaker. For a fleeting moment, I hold my breath, waiting for the sharpness of his teeth.
Do goats have sharp teeth?
I mean, they must, because they eat everything.
Instead of biting me, he sniffs.
I suspect it’s an act.
Sure enough, he clamps down on the front of my sneaker. “Stop!” I wave my hands in front of him, trying to get him to back off. “No!”
Lottie proves useless, doing nothing to get him off me. She laughs as he drags my foot like he’s towing me into another dimension.
“Seriously, Lottie?” I shout while hopping on one foot, which I may add is an impressive skill as I don’t wobble even once. Years of skating has given me exceptional balance.
“I’m sorry.” She laughs through the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “He’s playing. I’m not sure why, but he really likes you.”
“This is not how you act when you like someone!” I scream. “This is how you act when you’re crazy!” The last thing I need to do is accidentally kick her goat, but my leg is tiring from hopping, and I tug back. The goat tows me forward, and it’s taking all my strength to hold my ground. I plant my foot as hard as I can. Miraculously, Crunch lets go, and I face-plant into the dirt.
“Oh, wow.” Lottie wipes her eyes, still giggling. “Okay. I’m done. I swear. No more laughing,”
I can’t help but beam back at her—even if I’m being murdered by a goat. It’s what she does to me. As Crunch moves closer to her, I let out a deep breath and I raise my gaze. Our eyes lock, and my heart twists. I’ve risked my life plenty, willingly diving in front of flying pucks every day as a defenseman. No amount of damage I take could ever stop my heart the way her eyes do. Sea-glass green from an otherworldly dimension that doesn’t even exist on this planet.
“Sorry,” she says softly as she strolls forward and lowers her hand to me.
An impulsive swallow hits my throat because she’s always apologizing when it’s not her mess. “It’s fine.” As much as I yearn to grab her hand, I can’t show any weakness around her. I push myself off the ground and stand on my own. “I should have known better than to show up on his turf.”
“Well, it’s only his until I fix that gate.” She waves the hammer at me again. Her smile falters slightly and becomes gentler. “So, I heard you made that USA team, or whatever it is. I’m really proud of you. It sounds like it’s a huge deal.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. She’s one of the few people who has known me throughout my entire hockey career. She’s seen all the sacrifices I’ve made. It means a lot to hear that from her. “Thanks.” I clear my throat. “And I’m proud of you too. For, you know, making the news all the time doing all your impressive political stuff.”
“You know I can’t take any credit for that,” she scoffs as she slides her foot forward. “That’s me surviving my mom.”
I walk a little slower than her, letting her lead the way. I don’t miss the twitch in her lips when I say, “You survive it better than anyone.”
