Page 108 of Falling Offsides

“Carey, it’s a low key brainstorming session. We’ll be fine,” Jordan is quick to add.

“Okay. Table is booked at that little cantina place.”

“Table?”

“Yeah, I figured we would be working through dinner.” Carolina looks between me and Jordan. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” we reply in unison. Him more enthusiastically then me.

After last night and the way I’m feeling about the situation with Auguste, the last thing I want to do is have dinner with Jordan. It’s the worst idea… but it’s also work.

“Great.” Carolina focuses back on Jordan. “Keep all the receipts for expenses… and thank you for stepping up. I really appreciate it, and I’ll make sure Holden gets the drinks next guy’s night.”

Carolina excuses us and as we leave her office, Jordan asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.”

“Good,” he beams, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze.

Auguste is right about him. He is very handsy and lacks personal space.

“I guess I’ll see you later, Court.”

Court? Since when doeshecall me Court?

“See you later,” I say, trying not to let my discomfort show.

As I walk to my desk, I feel the weight of his eyes on me. I don’t like it. It’s nothing like Auguste’s. My skin isn’t buzzing at his attention. My insides aren’t pulling and twisting with the thrill of his eyes on me.

And walking away doesn’t leave the emptiness in my chest searching. Or the hollowness begging me to turn back to him.

TWENTY-ONE

AUGUSTE

What a fucking day.

Being called into coach’s office is unnerving on any given day, but today—when I opened the door and saw Courtney in there—I thought that was it. That I’d fucked up any chance I had with Courtney and my career at the same time.

The damn kicker is that it wasn’t my career I was fucking twisted over.

It was Courtney.

Because everything is about her lately. Dinner with my parents… all about Courtney. From the moment I sat down and Sabine brought her up to Mom and Dad, to when Mom spent the rest of the dinner giving me pointers on getting the girl who I’m not sure wants me at all.

Although, Court did talk to me in her dad’s office. Right then, she didn’t sound mad or disappointed like she did last night and this morning.

Maybe I’m getting my hopes up because there was something tentative about her tone. Or maybe it’s my wishful thinking reeling again.

“Not tonight, Satan, please,” I groan as I come to a standstill behind a ridiculous queue of traffic.

I’m fucking lagging already. Enough that Coach picked up on it during training today. So much so that it had him pulling me into his office for a “chat” that ended with Connie, the team shrink, popping in. Incidentally my ass.

Of course, I couldn’t tell him that the reason I’m fucking skatered is because his daughter has overtaken my entire damn world. In just ahandful of weeks, Courtney has become the reason I throw myself out of bed at unreasonable hours to bake fucking muffins. That she’s the reason I lay in bed at night, tossing and turning, trying to figure out how to make her mine.

No, I can’t tell him that. Because I do not in fact have a death wish. So I went along with the homesick assumption that Coach made. Offering me a week to spend with my family when all I want is for his daughter to look at me twice without that I-don’t-fucking-know-you look. Which I think she did… in his office.

She looked at me like maybe I’m not so bad. As though she might have gotten me all wrong.

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