The Boyfriend Goal (Love and Hockey Book 1)

Wesley

“Boston?” I repeat, like saying the name of the city will change the situation.

“Boston,” she says, in the corridor after my game that night. A game she came to. A game we won. A game I scored a goal in.

Then I skated over to the stands and blew her a kiss. Best night ever. Except, now it’s not.

“Boston,” I say again, this time heavily.

I’m too shocked to say anything more. This is the last thing I’d expected, but Josie is smiling. Like she has a trick up her sleeve. “Wes,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“It’s another three-month gig. It’s only three months. I won’t even be gone that long.”

Oh.

Fuck yes!This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

I can breathe again. “Three months is nothing. Three months will pass in the blink of an eye.”

“Right?” She sounds so excited.

“I’ll be traveling and playing, and you’ll be working.”

“But not just in Boston, but a couple other libraries in New England—in Providence and Amherst too. They want me to do the job at a handful of branches. It’s a dream job,” she says, but I can hear the worry in her voice even though she’s not asking my permission to take it.

She wants to know if I’ll wait for her. Like I’d do anything else. I grab her hand. “You’re taking it, right?”

“You’d do long-distance?”

“For three months? Baby, I’d do it for a year for you. Hell, I’d do it for as long as it took for you to come back. And I want you to get on that plane and know I’m waiting for you whenever you return. I promise.”

She lets out a relieved breath, and I’m glad I could give her what she needs—certainty in us.

The first day of the new year, I put my money where my mouth is. I drive her to the airport, walk her to security, then tuck a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. “We’ve got this.”

She gives me the saddest smile that’s chased with a tiny bit of hope. “It’ll go by so fast.”

We’ve made plans to talk every night, to text, to sext, to FaceTime. I’m going to see her as soon as I can too. We’ve worked out details for a quick overnight at the beginning of February. I won’t have much time but I can squeeze it in between road trips. Then another few weeks later I’ll fly her home to me for a weekend in early March. It’ll be easy.

So easy.

It’ll be almost the same as having her here.

Lies. Sweet little lies.

But I have to keep telling them to myself. What else can I do?

I press a tender kiss to her forehead, inhaling her cinnamon scent, letting it go to my head one more time. My chest aches. It hollows out, and I can’t stand that she’s leaving so soon after we’ve started. But I also know I’ll wait for her to return for as long as I have to.

I brush my fingers down her cheek, along her jaw, and then lift her face so I can look into those gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m so in love with you. And I’m never going to let you forget it a single day that we’re apart.”

Her smile is bright now. “Be careful what you wish for. You’re going to get so many letters.”

“Bring it on.” I kiss her one more time, a poignant goodbye kiss that has to carry us through.

When we break it, she waves sadly, then turns around and heads through security. I stay till she’s on the other side, walking farther and farther away from me.

As I watch her go, I know with crystal clarity—I have to find a way to get her back.