Page 112 of Falling Offsides

“It’s my treat,” she tells me as the server leaves us. “To say thank you for the UberEats.”

I freeze.

She smirks.

Then as the silence starts to get a little too much, she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Obviously I could pretend she’s asking about the food and make a smart remark. Keep this going as long as I can. Keepherfor as long as I can.

“Honestly, I don’t know, Courtney. When you gave me your address it took me by surprise, and then it felt like if I told you it would make things weird.” Sucking in a breath, I twist to face her. It would be easier if I sat on the other side of the booth, but I want to be as close to her as I can. And if I stay where I am, she can’t run from me when the conversation takes the turn she won’t like. “I noticed that when we were physically closer, you were more standoffish. I figured if you knew I was across the hall, you’d avoid me.”

Courtney nods, clearing her throat before she murmurs, “I have a hard time trusting people’s intentions.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, already knowing that this isn’t going to end well.

“It’s not your fault, Auguste.” Courtney pauses when the server returns with our drinks. After a tentative sip of her mocktail she goes on, “You asked me before why my relationship with my stepdad is volatile… the answer is I can’t stand him. The way he treats my mom. Martin is manipulative… controlling…” Her nose wrinkles with the hard press of her lips. “He’s emotionally abusive, and I have a hard time disassociating his pattern of behavior from men in general.”

Taking a long pull of my drink, I ignore the fact it’s possibly the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth and focus on the sharp stab of brain freeze. Concentrating on the eye popping burn rather than my chaotic thoughts.

Until her cool hand cups my face, thumb rubbing along the top of my cheekbone. It’s the healing touch I don’t need. I don’tdeserve.

“Don’t drink so fast,” she chuckles quietly. A gentle snicker that twists the knife already rooted deep in my chest.

Molding my hand to the back of hers, I stroke down to her wrist. Clutching it tight as I tug her closer. The need to kiss her, taste the sweet strawberry ice glistening on her lips, is killing me. So fucking slow it might as well be a thousand deaths on repeat.

“Courtney…”

She leans in closer. Face tilting. I know what’s coming. The thrill of it is thrumming mercilessly through my veins.

“Court…”

“Auguste…” The sugary warmth of her breath flutters across my lips.

Fuck.

“I… we can’t…I can’t…” Gripping her wrist tighter, I pry her hand from my face. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why? I thought…” Hurt pinches her face, lining her baby blue stare with soul crushing tears. “Why did you come here? Why—what—I don’t… I don’t understand. I thought you—why are you here?”

“Because I want you. I can’t stay away from you…” She edges back, confused, and I don’t stop her. “Every goddamn second of every damn day, ever since I hit you with that fucking puck, you’re everything I think about. I fucking ache for you more than my next breath.”

“Oh,” Courtney whimpers, blinking the tears from her eyes.

All I can do is watch them trace down her cheeks. Collecting at the corners of her full lips before she licks them up.

“Can you understand whatthisis like for me?” She says nothing. I can’t blame her because every word that comes out of my mouth is deranged. Sounds it. Feels it.

Courtney twists her wrist out of my hold, and before I retract my hand, her fingertips are curling around mine.

I’m watching her delicate fingers knot with mine—so milky next to my light brown skin. Everything about her is the complete opposite of me. I don’t know how I ever thought that we had a chance. HowIhad a chance.

I’m everything she’s afraid of, and I wish I could change that. But I can’t change who I am. The same way I never want her to change who she is.

Not when she’s so perfect already.

“If you want me that bad… you can have me…”

A long nail rakes the inside of my palm and I squeeze her fingers one last time before I pull my hand back.

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