The Boyfriend Goal (Love and Hockey Book 1)

Josie

Everly was right. Pole class is cardio, and I’m a sweat-soaked monster when we leave, but I don’t care as we dart into a nearby café for lunch.

After we order, I clear my throat and return to the great start. “So I was thinking…I really do want to stay here, and I don’t have a job. And it might take me a while to get one. But I’ve saved up in the last few months because I didn’t have to pay rent.”

Everly’s expression is thoughtful while Maeve’s is dead curious. Both wait for me to keep going though.

It’s okay to sit with discomfort. It’s okay to do the hard thing.

“And I want to stay here even if…” But my voice catches, and all my emotions well up into my throat.

“Oh, sweetie, what happened?” Everly says, rubbing my shoulder, like she’s the big sister I don’t have.

I fight off the onslaught of emotions and say through tight lips, “I’m not sure it’s going to work out with Wes. He’s…blaming himself for his bad games.”

Everly sighs. “Hockey players are the worst.”

“I’m sorry, Josie,” Maeve says. “Men sometimes suck.”

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “But I also didn’t want to get in his way. I sort of offered to take a step back.”

Maeve blinks, her brow furrowing. “What?”

I don’t want to reveal too much of the private conversation the other night or expose Wesley’s fears. I keep it simple, saying, “I was worried he was too distracted by me, so I asked if it would be helpful if I finished the list on my own and if we took a step back.”

“And he agreed?” Everly asks, arching a brow.

“Yes, he did,” I say.

“Hmm,” she says, seeming to chew on that.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s great and all that you’re being respectful. But it sounds like you’re both being too respectful,” she offers.

It’s like a slap. But a friendly one, if a slap can be friendly. Still, I reel a bit and push back. “I’m not going to force him to stay with me when he’s in a funk.”

“I get it,” she says, then leans closer, her eyes shrewd but her tone kind. “But maybe he needs you to fight for him.”

I freeze. I hadn’t thought of that before. Does Wesley need that from me? I’d thought I was doing the right thing, being respectful and all for his job. But did I back off when I should have forged forward?

“It’s not her fault,” Maeve points out, squeezing my shoulder protectively.

“I know that. Wesley probably knows that.” Everly locks eyes with me, fixing me with a tough stare. “But only you know if you should fight for him.”

“Or if he should fight for her,” Maeve suggests.

Everly exhales for a long beat, then perhaps shifts some. “Maybe you both need to fight for each other.”

Maybe we do. I nod, but I’m not entirely sure I’m ready yet. There’s something else I need to do first—fight for myself.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

Grabbing a napkin, I swipe it across the table to clean up any crumbs, then take the list out of my bag, spreading it out for my friends to see. “I might as well cross off number six. I’ve been doing it for the last few weeks, and I’ll keep doing it.”

I draw a line through volunteer. Then, I say to the women at the table, “Let’s cross off number seven,” I say, then add, “Together.”

It feels right to do this without Wes. Just like I’ll do the rest myself. Then, I’ll be ready. After all, that’s what number ten is all about. But I have to do number eight and nine first. And I have to do them alone.

I hand Maeve the pen. Maeve starts the strike-through, crossing out explore. Everly goes next, marking off a new. It’s my turn, and I finish the line. I look down at the list that’s nearly complete. From the one night stand, to overcoming a fear, to making a new friend. We’ve done so many other things too, like eating dessert for breakfast, taking pictures, volunteering, and now this one with my friends – exploring a new skill. There are only a few more left and I read eight and nine, though I know them by heart.

8. Dance in the park

9. Celebrate your goodbyes.

After folding the list up carefully, I put it back in the bag, fighting off this tug in my chest, this pull toward Wesley. And I fight for myself a little more, a little harder. “Could I stay with one of you while I look for a job?”

“Of course,” they both say in unison.

I don’t even care about The Kid in Maeve’s couch. But when Everly says she has a guest room, I’m so there.

Maybe I should even move out tomorrow after my job interview in Petaluma.