The Goalie

By Heather C. Myers

I hate my sister's best friend. I hate that I want her even more.

I'm not a party person. I'd rather be between the pipes in the freezing ice arena than at a club.

My sister doesn't seem to care. She orchestrates a huge birthday party that has a dress code of formal attire and masks.

Sam is the last person I want to talk to. Hell, she's the last person I want to see. I highly doubt my sister is stupid enough to invite her to something celebrating me.

Not because I don't want her there, but because she won't show up.

But a stranger catches my eye. One thing leads to another and I take her in the locker room. It was the perfect one night stand.

Until I find out I slept with Sam.

What's worse is I want to do it again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather C. Myers
• Release date: Oct 5, 2021

Heather C. Myers

Full disclosure: I am an acquired taste. I'm a typical blonde Orange County suburbanite who says 'like' more than necessary, laughs loud and probably obnoxiously, and loves to dance in the rain. I'm a 25 year old college graduate with more than a few tricks up my sleeve, and I also happen to be a pretty big Ducks fan. Oh, and I'm a writer. Like, for real.I recently signed with Anchor Group Publishing, which will see two of my series being published this year. I've self-published over 15 books, with more on the way, so I'm familiar with both a hybrid-traditional publishing method as well as self-publishing.I don't speak in third person (normally) nor do I wear glasses (except when I'm feeling particularly mischievous). I'm lucky to have found my soul mate at the ripe old age of 22, even though he frustrates me on purpose to get a reaction out of me. We live near Disneyland, have two rambunctious female puppies, and have a beautiful baby girl. He has two amazing boys, and has gotten me hooked on Smallville, watching soccer (okay, okay FOOTBALL - FC Barcelona, baby!), and Cancun Juice.

Book preview

1

Dan

My sister was dramatic. Not just sometimes, but all the time.

She was the one who orchestrated this party for me. I suppose thirty was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing, but a party? One where I had to wear a suit? One where a mask was required?

As I stepped into her gym—decorated specifically for my party so there were rooms, nooks, and crannies hidden in the dim light and the perfect hiding place if I ever felt the need to escape—I noticed my teammates. They were the only people I wanted to celebrate with. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be surprised if Lucy invited her clients, her friends, our cousins.

The space Lucy owned was huge, and as I walked through the sea of people, hoping to grab some food, I could not help but feel smothered. Too many bodies close together, loud top 40 music vibrating along the mirrors and the heavy gym equipment carefully set aside so no one would trip over it, harm themselves, and then sue her. It was hard being a Holmes. It was like we always had a target on our back.

Despite my mask, some of the guests recognized me, wishing me a happy birthday, squeezing my forearm to emphasize their genuine words. Others didn’t give me a second glance as I walked by, too immersed in their conversations or the food.

When I got to the buffet table, I grabbed a plate and started to pile food on the plate. Despite Lucy’s flair for the dramatic, she knew how to cater a party. I wondered if the food was from her best friend from high school, an annoying pain in the ass. I thought her name was Sam. Samantha. Something like that. I hadn’t seen her in a while—then again, I hadn’t seen Lucy in a while. Our schedule was crazy this year. Granted, I was glad not to have to deal with Sam. She was stubborn and annoying and always had to be right about everything. Last I heard, she ran her own catering company.

The last thing I needed on my thirtieth birthday was running into her, even if she had always been easy on the eyes.

After I filled my plate, I nodded to a couple of women, whispering to themselves and looking into my eyes every few seconds. They had to be fans. I didn’t recognize them in the slightest, and the way they kept looking at me indicated they would probably be open to sleeping with me. I made a note of their masks so I could find them later, after I had fulfilled my time quota of being here and could leave before Lucy made a scene.

I took a seat on one of the benches near the opening of a hallway. If I remembered correctly, the locker rooms were down the hall in case I needed to wash my hands or hide out.

They have macaroni and cheese?

I looked up, only to come in contact with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. The woman wore a simple white mask that highlighted her eyes and her luscious pink lips. Lips I wanted to taste. Lips I wanted around my cock.

Yeah. I nodded once and then chided my idiocy.

I was never this awkward. I wasn’t as talkative or as charming as my fellow professional hockey players, but women seemed to like my quiet brooding. It gave them more of a challenge, someone to win over.

Cool. I’ll have to go get some.

Wait.

I grabbed her wrist before she could go. I had no idea what I was doing. I knew this was getting into dangerous territory. I knew she probably thought I was some psycho who could potentially rape her in the secluded hallway and then murder her in the locker room.

And yet, even knowing this, even knowing that I was coming across that way, I couldn’t let her go. There was something alluring about her.

Was it the form-fitting strapless dress she wore? I didn’t know much about women’s fashion, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her and the dress. Her cleavage was on full display, but not in a way that seemed like she was trying too hard. She had curves—more curves than society categorized as slender—with a flat stomach and round hips. Her dress reminded me of snow that sparkled. I noticed a blob of sauce just between her breasts that had been wiped at with a damp paper towel but hadn’t actually gotten rid of. I smirked.

What’s your name? I asked.

Why does it matter? she asked, yanking her hand from me. Lucy made sure everyone knew masks were a requirement. Why ruin her party by exchanging names? It takes the fun out of it, don’t you think?

No, actually, I didn’t think it was fun. It was ridiculous and over the top, and I was going to have a serious conversation with Lucy after this party because this was the last thing I could ever want.

But that would come later.

Now, I had an alluring woman I was captivated by. I had never felt this before, and instead of pushing it away and running from it, I wanted to indulge. I wanted to take advantage of the anonymity I had and see how far I could take her. It was like a game, a challenge, I wanted to see if I could play in the first place.

Only if this stranger was up for it, of course.

Okay, I said, acknowledging her words with a nod. So what you’re suggesting is to take advantage of the fact that you don’t know me and I don’t know you?

What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done to a woman? she asked, then tilted her head to the side. Assuming you’re not gay.

I’m not, I said quickly. I put up a hand. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, obviously. I’m just not. Gay, I mean.

She giggled and set her plate of food down next to mine. Fair enough, she said. Her eyes darkened. Now, tell me your secrets, stranger. You can unload everything on me. It might make you feel better.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

I never do.

I bit my bottom lip. Okay, I said, dropping my voice even though there wasn’t anyone around. I’ll tell you. But you have to come somewhere more secluded.

And why is that? she asked, arching a brow even higher than her mask.

I smirked again. It’s easier if I show you, I said.

She pressed her lips together, as though she were debating whether or not to trust me. Is this where you kill me? she asked.

I chuckled, despite myself. I expected questions, sure, but I hadn’t expected her to accuse me of murder. My eyes traced her features, trying to find out if she was serious. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t tell. Which was strange, because I prided myself on being able to figure things out, read people and things they otherwise would want kept under wraps, quite well.

I didn’t have many things I was good at.