Page 260 of Faking the Goal

Even that feels like another cop-out. Another safer word I can hide behind because the truth sounds too big once it has a voice.

My eyes drift back to the laptop, finding Kentaro as he skates toward his crease.

"Actually... no. I'm falling in love with him."

There.

I said it.

And fuck, I thought admitting it would make me panic. Instead, the strangest sense of relief settles over me, like I've finally put down something I've been carrying around for weeks without realizing how heavy it had gotten. I've called it attraction. Getting attached. Liking him too much. Anything that kept me from having to use the one word that scared me most.

But there it is now.

Love.

Terrifying as hell, but somehow a little less terrifying now that I'm not fighting so hard to pretend it's something else.

Caroline is quiet for a moment before asking, "Why is that a problem?"

"Because I don't know if he feels the same way." I look down at my hands. "If I knew he did, this would be completely different. But I don't."

Although sometimes, I think he does.

There are moments when the way Kentaro looks at me, the things he says, the way he goes out of his way for me, make it feel almost impossible that I'm imagining it.

But maybe that's the problem.

I want him to feel the same way so badly that I don't know if I'm seeing what's actually there or just what I want to be there.

Caroline watches me for a second, then tilts her head. "Do you know the best solution to your problem?"

I narrow my eyes. "What?"

"Talk to him." She says it simply. "Tell him how you feel."

An incredulous laugh slips out of me. "You say that like it's easy."

"I didn't say it was easy."

"No?"

Caroline shakes her head. "I think conversations like that are some of the hardest you'll ever have. You're putting your heart in someone else's hands without knowing what they're going to do with it. That's terrifying."

"Exactly."

"But how are you ever supposed to know if he feels the same way if you never tell him anything?"

I open my mouth, then close it again.

"I want to," I admit quietly. "I really do."

"Then what's stopping you?"

I look down at my hands. "I'm scared of the answer. I'm scared of the rejection."

Caroline's expression softens. "I get that."

I glance up.