Page 34 of Falling Offsides

“You could be here one day and on a different coast the next… maybe even in another country,” I say. “That’s the hockey life.”

“I miss you.” He exhales slowly. “And I think about you all the time. Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve fought harder. For your mom. For us.”

I shake my head. “It wasn’t about you. I don’t think Mom was ever made for this kind of life.”

Silently, I realize: I don’t know ifIam either.

I like the idea of putting down roots.

Of making a home.

Of staying.

Of building something steady—something that’s mine.

Maybe even… someone to share it with.

Dad nods, eyes soft. “She was never comfortable in the chaos. But you—you’ve got a different kind of fire, Courtney.”

I glance over, and he’s smiling again.

“You should be proud of what you’ve done,” I say. “Of everything you’ve built. Of all the dreams you’ve helped shape. All the people you’ve lifted.” Then, softly, “If anyone ever inspired me to believe in myself, to go after what I want… it’s been you.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just reaches across the armrest and squeezes my hand.

And for a little while, that’s enough.

That’s everything I’ve needed for years. Thirteen to be exact. Since mom took me away from him.

SEVEN

AUGUSTE

Tired doesn’t cuthow I feel today.

Physically wrecked almost does, though. My muscles are sore from extra drills. Head foggy from lack of sleep. My body's running on fumes and coffee I didn’t even finish.

But none of that compares to the war going on in my head.

Every time I close my eyes, she’s there.

Courtney—goddamn—Nilsson.

With her dark, unruly curls, soft, distracting mouth, and the bright, furious blue of her eyes. I’m trying not to want her. Not to think about her. But the more I resist, the more unraveled I become.

It’s a vicious cycle I can’t end.

Not even now, knowing I shouldn’t be looking for her in every hallway. Every door. Every breath of air in this goddamn facility. All while I tell myself it's my subconscious nit picking my actions.

That’s a lie.

I’m on the phone with Étienne, walking the corridor on autopilot. I don’t even realize where I’m going. I’m just trudging along wondering how in the fuck I’ve seen Courtney every day at the facility. In one way or another she’s ended up in the same place as me—except for today.

After this morning, I have never wanted to see someone, bump into a woman, or have a damn photo taken of me as much as I did today. I was ready to make her understand no one turns their back on me, especially not her.

Fate has other ideas, though.

“You sound dead, baby bro,” Étty says through a laugh.