Page 72 of Golden Goal

She grabs her phone from the counter, and I rattle off my number.

“There,” she says as my phone dings from my purse. “Added you. Now you’ll have all our numbers.”

“Coming, Becca?” Holt calls from the entryway.

“You better go. See you later,” Madison says with a wave.

“Bye,” I mumble and head over to the guys.

The drive back to our apartment building is quiet. When we get out of Holt’s SUV, I have a weird sensation of being watched. I look around the parking lot but don’t see anyone who doesn’t belong. Although I swear I catch movement in a silver car, which is parked at the end of the row, as we walk by. I peek over my shoulder, but the car appears to be empty. Probably my imagination. I follow Holt inside the building.

“Thanks for going with me,” Holt says when we’re in the elevator.

“Of course.” I lean back against the wall.

“Want to hang out tonight?”

I shake my head. “I can’t. I have stuff to do around my apartment.”

“Can I convince you to put it off?” Holt asks, stepping into my space and kissing me.

I sigh, pushing gently on his chest. “No.”

“I promised you I’d feed you, and I didn’t get a chance to. Want to come over, and we can order takeout?”

I shake my head. “It’s okay. I have leftovers I need to eat anyway.”

“What about tomorrow? We have a morning skate, but we could have lunch.”

“I already have plans, and I have errands to run.”

His smile falters, and he takes a step back. The elevator door opens on our floor, and I step out, Holt behind me.

“I’ll see you later,” I finally say after we stand in the hallway for a few minutes staring at each other. I pull my key out of my purse, and as I’m putting it in the lock, he comes up behind me.

“Becca.”

He’s standing so close that his breath hits the back of my neck, causing me to shiver.

“Did I do something wrong?” he whispers, his voice laced with so much sadness.

“No.” I frown, turning around to face him. “Of course not.”

He studies me, and I can’t help but shift on my feet.

“I’m sorry. Whatever I said.” He roughly runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

I jerk backward, my gaze flashing over his face. “You’re sorry? What are you talking about? There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Sutton and I are meeting for lunch, and then I have a bunch of things to do—laundry, grocery shopping. I probably need to clean, too.”

He grits his teeth, looking pained. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Come on, let’s go inside.” He follows me wordlessly into my living room. “Sit.” I gesture to the couch.

He takes a seat, closing his eyes, and I take a moment to study him.

“Talk to me, Holt. What happened?”

He opens his eyes not meeting mine. “I figured I did, or said something wrong, and that’s why you said you were busy,” he whispers. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend. I’m fucking broken.” His voice rises at the end, and the pain that flashes over his face breaks my heart.