The Boyfriend Goal (Love and Hockey Book 1)

Josie

This isn’t weird at all.

That’s what I tell myself as I walk into the park solo…to dance on a Monday night. Normally, I wouldn’t go to any park at night, being a single female and not having a death wish and all.

But I picked tonight for a reason. Dolores Park is hosting its tree-lighting ceremony. The iconic palm trees on the edge of the park are proud statues, their trunks decorated with white and red lights blinking in spirals, their fronds decked out in flashing pinks, purples and blues.

Crowds fill the park, a motley crew of couples, friends, and young families heading toward a towering Christmas tree in the center of the space where a band plays on a gazebo stage and vendors peddle hot cocoa and candied pecans. Upbeat Christmas tunes in a rock beat reverberate from the stage. Something by Gwen Stefani, I think. A cover of one of her Christmas songs.

Nerves skitter up my spine, but I look around, getting my bearings. People are swaying by the stage, and kids are running in circles. Yup. This is the right time. I’ll blend in and, besides, so what if I don’t? So what if I stand out? It’s fine if I look silly as I dance alone, rocking out to Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day.” Greta’s non-favorite song.

My hand curls tight around my phone, my fingers circling by the playlist, at the ready. I clicked it open on my way over. Sure, I’m trying to be spontaneous at times, but you can’t take all the prep out of a girl like me.

My phone’s on Do Not Disturb. I didn’t want to be distracted by checking my email for job news. I need to do number eight. I want to do number eight.

I settle into a corner fifty or so feet from the street, moving behind a pack of revelers wearing ugly sweaters and nipping sips from silver flasks. I’m wearing jeans and a sweatshirt since I changed after work. Didn’t want to draw too much attention in full-on work interview garb.

Here goes.

With the park lit up at night, I turn on the song in my AirPods. This isn’t what I planned with Wes. But after I dance alone, I can fight for him.

I can tell him he’s wrong. That life is more than work. That he shouldn’t focus on just hockey. That he should focus on how to be happy.

Ideally, with me.

So I shimmy my hips. I shake my booty. And I mouth the words to the song I’ve known by heart my whole, entire life. As I move to the familiar beat, a memory flashes before me. Days when I’d dance like this with Greta, carefree and joyful. She danced like she had no stress, and I learned to groove like that from her. The scarf she wore would blow in the breeze, the music would drum in our hearts, and the day would be lovely.

Now, as I sway, it doesn’t just feel like I’m dancing in the park. It feels like I’m living with no regrets.

I get into the groove, blending in with the crowds until…

I jump.

My lungs explode with worry since someone has curled a hand around my shoulder.

I spin around, ready to slam a fist into their nose since that’s what you do…when I’m standing in front of Wes.

He holds up his hands. “I come in peace,” he says. At least, those are the words I read on his lips. I hit stop on the song then yank out my AirPods, my pulse rocketing to the stars in the night sky.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I say, my heart still sprinting.

“I came here to find you.”

That’s clear, but still, I say, “You did?”

“I went to the library to pick you up. You were gone. I went home. You weren’t there. I called Maeve, and she told me you were here. I can’t let you do this alone.”

My skin is tingling, and hope bursts in every cell as he reaches into a pocket and hands me an old iPod. With a set of corded earphones, just like I told him Greta and I used once upon a time.

They’re so old school and so right.

My heart swells. And I’m not even sure what to say except: “Let me start it over.”

“Yeah. I’d like that, Josie.”

When the song is cued up on the old iPod, I put one earbud in my ear then offer him the other. He takes it and then curls his hands around my hips, a white wire connecting us as he brings me close and we slow dance in the park.

He lifts a hand to my neck, threads fingers through my hair, looks me in the eyes, and smiles—that warm, generous grin that hooked me the night I met him.

That’s like an arrow through me all over again.

We dance on a chilly December night as the park lights up, and the city celebrates around us.

I don’t know what it means that he’s here, but I try to live in the moment. And I love this moment.

We dance till the song ends. We remove our headphones, and he says, “I wrote a letter for you.”

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“As soon as you left. I wanted to give it to you when you got back from your interview but didn’t want to ruin your day.”

A prick of worry races down my spine. “Will it ruin it?”

“No. At least I hope not. But then, maybe…since you’ve pretty much ruined me,” he says, and I gasp.

I roll my lips together so I don’t shed happy tears before I even begin to read. He takes the letter from his pocket and hands it to me.

With eager fingers, I unfold it and read. My breath catches. Warmth cascades down my body. Wes is a man of few written words, but his words hit me in the center of my soul every time.

Dear Josie,

You said you thought you were a lot, but I’m a lot too. Why don’t we be a lot together instead of apart?

Xoxo

Wes

When I look up from the letter, all my emotions climb up inside me, soaring through my body. My heart is beating so fast. “Wes,” I say, just because it feels good to say his name again like he’s precious to me—because he is.

He captures my face in his big hands. “For a while there I thought I was falling in love with you. But it’s done. There’s no more falling. I am so ridiculously in love with you, it’s unreal. You’re not a distraction. You put me first and did something huge for me by trying to give me space for my job and what I thought was going on. And I was so, so stupid to let you step away. I’m not going to do that again.” He pauses and swallows, those warm brown eyes so vulnerable. “If you’ll have me again.”

I throw my arms around him. “I’m yours.” I drop a quick kiss to his lips, then pull back. “And I love you so much it’s kind of ridiculous too.”

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know where I’m going at the start of the new year. But I know I’m with him, no matter what.