Page 24 of Falling Offsides

Courtney looks down at her lap. “Look, I didn’t know you were going to order all of this.”

“I don’t like to lose, princess, and you made this a game?—”

“I have CMPA, I can’t have unprocessed dairy.”

“CMPA…?”

She nibbles the side of her lips. “Cow’s milk protein allergy.”

“Can you eat any of this?” I move the toast I just buttered for her to the other side of the table.

“I’m good with the breakfast muffin, it had the vegan sign on the product card.”

I put the muffin in front of her. “What do you drink, Court?”

“Oat milk lattes with an extra shot and vanilla.”

Pushing to my feet, I pick up the latte and cappuccino in front of her, leaving the flat white for me when I return with her latte.

Courtney’s watching me closely when I sit back down and place her coffee on the table.

“It wasn’t so hard, was it?” I level her with a smirk.

“You’re a menace,” is all she says, voice steady and eyes narrowed—her confidence restored.

I glance up, letting my mouth twitch into a big grin. “You have no idea.”

The weight roomis already a furnace and it’s not even noon. Sweat clings to my skin, stinging my eyes. I drop the bar back onto the rack harder than necessary and ignore the way Coach Nilsson’s eyes track me from across the room.

He hasn’t said shit to me all morning—except to bark out extra sets and ramp up my conditioning drills like I’m some rookie who missed curfew. I know exactly why he’s doing it.

Because I hit his daughter in the head with a puck.

Because all everyone is talking about is how I carried her off the ice like a demented moron, and then drove her home.

Because I can stop myself from looking at her. Watching her move around me, the team, the staff…

Even now, with fire ripping through my arms and my lungs aching,I glance across the gym and find her. She’s crouched beside one of the team’s PR guys, adjusting the angle on a light rig. Her brows are drawn together in focus, camera strap sliding off her shoulder.

“You're gonna burn a hole in her,” Matheo mutters from behind me, his voice pitched low.

My chest tightens at his remark and I force my eyes away.

Jayden chuckles. “Better hope Coach doesn’t catch you ogling his baby girl.”

“He already did,” Erik adds with a groan. “Those suicide sprints weren’t for our benefit.”

I glare at the weights, jaw locked. “Shut the fuck up.”

The assholes laugh, slapping my shoulders as they move on to the cool down room.

I try to shake the haze I’m in as I pick up my water and sweat rag. Maybe the guys have it right, a dip in the ice tub might be exactly what I need.

I’m halfway to the door when Courtney walks by me. I force my eyes to stay glued to the floor.

“Hey,” she says, voice soft.

Fuck, she smells so good—vanilla and sugar… peachy. I keep walking and she’s still by my side when we’re out in the hallway.

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