Page 11 of Delayed Offsides

I shake my head, my thumb pressing to her lips. “I should have been there for you.”

“You were,” she says. “That night I found out he was the same guy who raped Ami, you held me the entire night. That’s being there for me, and I’ll never forget that.”

I remember that night. I couldn’t, wouldn’t let her go because I realized how close I’d been to losing her. That’s the night I knew I loved her. “I know. But before that. When I saw the black eye, that’s when I should have said something. I knew, but I thought you could handle yourself. I should have said something,” I repeat.

“I don’t know that I would have listened to you. I think it took seeing what Evan did to defend Ami and the realization that Dave hurt her so badly to understand how deep I’d gotten.”

I can understand that, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. My breath blows over her face, white clouds rolling between us. Hesitantly, I lean in and press my lips to hers. It’s probably not the answer she’s looking for, but I can’t resist. Between her flushed cheeks and her slightly blue lips, I want my mouth on hers. I want her closer until I can’t tell where her body ends and mine begins. Maybe it’s my way of showing her I’m here for her now.

To my surprise, she lets me kiss her.

When our mouths collide, it’s hungry, passionate, yearning for more, but still cautious of the boundaries we need to have after everything she’s admitted. I can’t ask for more. Not tonight. I pull back despite wanting this to go further. It isn’t easy, believe me.

Callie shivers in my arms, but there’s a smile on her face.

I brush my fingertips to her cool cheek. She looks so goddamn adorable with her stocking cap and scarf hiding all the places I want to kiss. “Do you want to go inside? My balls are so cold they’re trying to become ovaries.”

She nods, laughing at me. “Yeah, it’s cold.”

I lead her inside to the couch in front of the Christmas tree. We sit together and I pull her closer, leaning back against the pillows stacked up on the end. “I just want to hold you a little longer,” I whisper, pressing one last kiss to her lips and wrapping my arms around her. “I won’t try anything. Promise.”

Without complaint, Callie moves closer so her back is against my chest.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” My lips graze her ear from behind as I whisper into the darkness of the room. “It won’t happen again.”

She says nothing but reaches over and wraps my hands around her tighter. I don’t know where the new year is going to take us, but I have hope that she’s going to finally let me in.

CHAPTER4

HAT TRICK

LEO

When a player scores three goals in one game.

Doyou know what happens when you lose the last two games, and it’s New Year’s Eve?

Your coach is pissed, and you’re pretty sure he wants to trade your ass.

That and you get drunk.

And that’s how a bunch of us from the team end up at Mase’s condo. He’s throwing a party.

But do you see that bastard anywhere? Nope. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Why Mase is throwing a party is a bigger deal because this guy doesn’t like people in his personal space. He’s never thrown a party before. The other reason? His girlfriend isn’t twenty-one yet. She just turned nineteen and given the way the city gets on New Year’s Eve, he doesn’t want her downtown. Can’t say I blame him on that one. It was a year ago that he found her in that alley close to dead.

And bonus here. I live in the same building. This way I can crawl home if needed.

Back to where Mase is. He and Ami are barely present. They disappear at around ten and don’t return for another hour. When they emerge from his room, her cheeks are red, and he’s smiling, a drink in one hand, his girl in the other.

“Dude.” I shove his shoulder as he makes another drink. “You proposing or something? You’re like a fuckin’ bitch in heat.”

Mase snorts, setting down the tequila on the counter. “No. I’m not proposing.” He grins, his cheeks flushed either from fuckin’ all night or drinking. Probably both. “We’re just… it’s all new to us, and I fuckin’ love that girl.” Are you looking at him? Just wait for what comes next. Pause here. He’s drunk. Keep that in mind because if you don’t, you’d be surprised when he leans in, whispering, “She can swallow the puck for sure.”

I probably should have told him this, but his girlfriend is standing behind us when he says that. I don’t tell him because, well, I’m a fucker like that.

I point behind him and clap my other hand over his shoulder. “She heard that, bud.”

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