Page 55 of Golden Goal

Why do I even care? It’s none of my business what Becca does. She made it clear she’s not interested in me. I’m not good enough for her anyway. I sigh. I will not butt into other people’s love lives like Wes does. Becca is a grown woman. She can date whoever she pleases.

Except I can’t ignore how much I hate the idea of another guy kissing her. Touching her the way I want to. Getting to do what I will never be able to. I run a hand down my face, groaning. I have to stop thinking about it. There’s nothing I can do. I sigh again.

“You okay?” Hunter asks, poking me in the shoulder.

“Yeah, why?”

He waves a hand at me. “Because you were groaning and sighing. Figured something might be wrong.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? Everything with Kat and Hazel . . . traveling again. Being away from your daughter. It’s okay to not be doing fine.”

“I’m fine, Cap,” I repeat, giving him what I hope is a convincing smile.

He studies me for a second. “If you say so.”

With that, he leans back in his seat and leaves me alone. I rest my head against the window and close my eyes, partially to try to sleep, but mostly so the guys don’t talk to me. I spend the entire flight thinking about Becca, and whether she’s going to go on a date with a random guy. It takes everything in me not to ask Sebastian more questions about the speed dating event.

“Alright, guys. Twenty minutes left. Let’s shut this game down,” Coach yells during the second intermission of our game in Calgary against the Heat, the first in our weeklong road trip.

I grab my water bottle from next to me on the bench and take a swig. Then I change my socks, something I have to do every intermission, and pull my skates back on. Before I know it, we’re making our way back onto the ice.

The period is a blur of shots flying my way, penalties, and fights. The Heat take quite a few shots on net, but I’m focused and block all of them easily. With three minutes to go, they pull their goalie to try to tie the game, but between my goaltending and the guys on the blue line, they don’t stand a chance.

The game ends with us winning three to two, finally snapping our four-game losing streak. Thank fuck because we need all the wins and points we can get if we have any hope of making it to the playoffs.

The locker room is loud as everyone celebrates, but I don’t join in. I’m exhausted. The win took everything out of me tonight. Thankfully, Coach is putting our other goalie in the net tomorrow, so I can have the night off.

I take a quick shower and get dressed. While I wait for everyone else to finish getting ready so we can get on the bus to the airport, I pull out my phone and turn it back on. My fingers have a mind of their own, and I click on the Social app. An app I never go on.

But tonight, I’m desperate for information.

How can I find Becca’s account, if she even has one? I glance around the locker room.

Wes.

If anyone would know, it would be him. I quickly find his account, and click on who he’s following. Sure enough, there’s R. Jansen. It’s got to be her.

I navigate to her profile only to find out it’s set to private.

Guess that’s that, then.

I go to hit the Back button, except my finger slips, and I hit the Request to Follow button instead.

Shit.

I drop my phone onto the bench like it’s on fire. Sucking in a breath, I step back, staring at it like it’s going to explode.

What the fuck do I do?

I grab my phone and stare at the follow requested notification that shows up at the top of her profile. Do I cancel it? Will she still get the notification that I requested to follow her? Are we the type of friends who find each other on social media?

This is why they say curiosity killed the cat.

Shaking my head, I exit out of the app and lock my phone. I won’t think about it. Maybe she never goes on there, and won’t see my request.

Is it really so bad I followed her?