Page 3 of Offside Rule

Shit.

Antonio did have a foot in front of the ball.

I threw a glance at the girl next to me, who was wearing a proud smile on her lips as she sipped from her water.

She had been right.

“Yeah. What do I know about football, anyway?” she mocked me with a lazy drawl, but with a hint of pride in those green eyes that avoided me still.

“Come on, stranger. Let me see those all-knowing eyes of yours better.”

TWO

ARIANNA

“Rebecca told me your knee is bothering you.” Josh, the second referee of today’s game, came over to me after we finished the warm-up and last-minute checks.

We were standing at the edge of the green field, the low hum of voices brushing past our ears. I sucked in a deep breath at his question, my eyes landing on the football players walking into the stadium. Some had wide, confident grins, while others wore serious expressions filled with nervousness. The crowd cheered excitedly with each new player stepping onto the field, and the little girl in me did too.

I bit my lip, avoiding his eyes as I grabbed my right knee with my hand. “A bit, yeah.”

My eyes flew over the football field, and like it did every single time, a heavy pressure made my chest swirl with longing and pain. I loved being a referee, but my place was out there, playing.

After my knee injury, doctors had forbidden me to do any kind of activity that involved running or great effort. That’s exactly why I hadn’t seen a doctor in years—because whilereferees didn’t face the same risk of injuries as football players, we still had to keep up and run constantly.

It’s okay, Arianna. At least you’re doing something related to football.

I swallowed, my eyes involuntarily finding a specific curly-haired young player whose grin outshined everyone else’s. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was as handsome as he was the other night, but today, there was something more alluring about him. Seeing him in his element was like placing the last piece in a puzzle. It was complete.

“Put some freeze spray on it and it should keep you going until the end of the game.” Josh’s voice brought me back to earth, and he handed me a tall blue bottle with a friendly smile on his face.

I nodded and returned the smile, catching the sigh that slipped from his lips. Josh and I had met a few times since I had become a referee, and god knew how, we had remained friends. When I had first started out, he’d just moved from Africa and seemed the shyest man ever—that was until I went out with him and he had lap-danced on every guy he’d found.

“Grazie,” I tipped the bottle upward before uncapping it and spraying my knee. “You’re ready? The match is about to start soon.”

“More than ready.” He smiled from ear to ear, then brushed his curly black hair with his fingers.

The next ten minutes rushed by, the players lining up to sing their national anthem. I couldn’t help the smile on my face at the loud buzz of the stadium wrapping around me as I glanced down at the perfectly trimmed grass where freshly painted lines contrasted over the vivid green color.

My knee pulsed with the faintest ache as a reminder of what had happened, but I didn’t let that steal the growing feeling in my heart. I closed my eyes for a second, imagining myselfrunning out there with an opponent on my trail, a few rebellious strands of hair escaping the tight ponytail on top of my head as the wind blew straight into my face. And as I ran and ran, the biggest smile painted my lips. It felt like a sunny summer day, like a warm bath after hard training, it felt … right.

When the time came, I blew into the whistle to signal the beginning of the match.

The game started in full force, demanding I run for the first half hour. It was a good thing I had used the icy spray Josh had given me, otherwise I would’ve stumbled in pain already. The ache would come and go either during a match or right after, but most importantly, I always managed to carry it to the end.

Spain and England were playing rough without holding back, bumping into each other and throwing around heated glares. I had no other choice but to give them a yellow card meant to calm them down for a moment. I was aware it wasn’t going to last long, but I didn’t expect the calm waters to turn into angry waves so quickly.

Isaac Kevalle, son of a legend, attempted to shoot a goal for the third time without success. For such a strong team, the Spanish captain's shots were so bad it looked like they were intentional. By his devastated reaction, they obviously weren’t. Along with the boos from the tribunes, his cousin Xavier Kevalle, a great defender, marched to him with furious steps. I hesitated for a moment, too caught up by his angry face that still carried a masculine beauty despite the drops of sweat sliding down his sharp features.

I knew something was going to happen, so before he could reach Isaac, I sprinted towards him.

Xavier's yellow cards were right at the limit, and if he made me pull another one, he wasn’t going to play in the next games. I didn’t want to sanction him just yet; his team needed him, and he deserved to play. Out of respect for him as a player, I lookedhim in the eye with determination, trying not to draw much attention.

“Don’t make a scene,” I warned under my breath, low, but clear enough for him to understand how serious I was.

Please step back.

His lips parted as his eyes fell on me like a warm touch. I held back a shiver, the gaze feeling intimate. A squint formed a line between his eyebrows before he raised a hand to his mouth, wiping the corner of it with his thumb.

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