Page 302 of Faking the Goal

Neither of us seems particularly interested in being the first to pull away.

"Azuma!"

Coach Hopper's booming voice cuts through the moment like a referee's whistle.

"You planning on making your flight today, or should I tell the pilot to wait until you're done making out?"

Kentaro lets out the quietest, most long-suffering sigh against my lips.

I can't help laughing.

He rests his forehead against mine for one lingering second before finally opening his eyes.

"I have to go."

"I know."

"I'll text you when we land."

"I know."

His thumb brushes over my cheek one last time.

"Don't do anything reckless."

I grin.

"That's rich coming from the guy who wanted to skip an away game."

"I was being reasonable."

"You were being dramatic."

A reluctant smile finally breaks through his perpetual game-day scowl.

"Maybe a little."

"Go win your game, Ken-chan."

He steals one last quick kiss.

"For you?"

I smile.

"For us."

That earns me the brightest smile he's worn all morning before he finally forces himself to turn toward the bus, glancing back one last time before climbing aboard.

By the time the game is less than an hour away, the Archer beach house living room no longer resembles a living room.

It looks more like one gigantic sleepover.

Or Caroline's version of one, anyway.

Apparently, watching hockey from an ordinary couch is unacceptable when your best friend is recovering from chemotherapy.

"This," Caroline announces proudly as she steps back to admire her handiwork, "is peak luxury."