Page 46 of Faking the Goal

He's right in front of me now, one hand resting on his stick while he catches his breath, and judging by the way he's staring at me, there's a very real possibility he caught me staring first.

Heat creeps into my cheeks as I straighten and pretend I haven't spent the last several minutes shamelessly checking him out.

Fantastic. I spend weeks antagonizing the man only to get caught practically drooling over him in a backward baseball cap. My dignity really does choose the most inconvenient times to abandon me.

"Oh, hey!" I say with a bright smile.

Kentaro looks at me for a moment before giving me his usual emotionless, "Hey."

"So, um, where do you want us to talk?"

"Here."

I glance around the rink, not entirely sure which part of here he's referring to.

Kentaro rests both hands on top of his stick. "Before we start, I want to get our schedule figured out. I can keep noon open most days for the next few weeks. No classes, and it won't interfere with team practice. Can you make that work?"

"Yeah. I can keep noon free."

"Good."

He skates toward the bench and bends down to grab something. When he straightens and heads back, there's a pair of skates dangling from one hand.

Smaller skates.

And considering he's extending them in my direction, there's only one possible explanation.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Absolutely not.

"For me?" I ask, my voice coming out a little higher than usual.

He gives me a pointed, unamused stare. "Obviously."

"I thought we were doing the interview."

"We are. I went through the questions you sent me last night. We can start with those while we skate."

"While we skate?"

"I don't like sitting across from someone and answering questions about myself, especially the personal ones." He gestures toward the rink with his stick. "I'm more comfortable out here. If we're going to spend the next few weeks working on this feature, I'd rather do it somewhere I don't feel like I'm being interrogated."

"Well, I don't really need to skate for that." I eye the skates like they're a pair of loaded weapons. "I can stay right here and ask the questions while you do your thing."

Where it's safe. Where gravity and I are still on speaking terms.

"I can watch, take notes, get photos." I give him a dazzling, completely fabricated smile. "Everybody gets what they need."

"Not everything."

"What am I missing?"

"You're supposed to be writing about what I do as an athlete. If you want to understand it properly, you should experience some of it yourself."

I stare at him. "So, what you're saying is that... you want me to—"