Page 41 of Falling Offsides

“I met someone.”

Mom goes quiet for a beat. “Oh?”

I shake my head like she can see me. “It’s not like that. Not yet.”

“Not yet… but you got a puppy for her?” Mom’s choice of words hit low in my gut.

“Maybe… yes,” I admit. “But the puppy is mine. Just… maybe it’s a way to get close without pushing too hard.”

“I see,” she hums, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “So, tell me more about your mystery girl?”

“She’s—” I pause.How the hell do I explain myself?“She’s nothing like I expected—bright and sharp and so fucking alive. And she looks at me like I’m carved from stone, like she wants to figure out if I’ll crack.”

“So what you’re saying is she’s got you figured out and wrapped around her finger…”

“Mom, it’s—I don’t know?—”

“Sounds to me like your heart knows plenty.”

“My heart…?” I don’t think my heart knows shit, if it did, it would pick someone else. Courtney is trouble. She’s off-limits and… “I know she’s too good for me.Perfect. She doesn’t fawn. Doesn’t take shit. You know—” I laugh at my memory of Courtney sashaying away from me yesterday morning. “—she’ll glare first and ask questions later.”

Mom laughs gently. “And you like that.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“But you do. Auguste, you like a good fight. Always have.”

I nod even though she can’t see it. “I overheard her talking to someone today. One of the PT guys. He was flirting, and she talked about how much she loves boxer dogs… her stepdad never let her have one.”

“So you got her the runt of the litter.”

I glance at the puppy nipping at my fingertips playfully. “Yeah, because she’s not the kind of girl that likes perfect.”

“Oh boy, you’re already gone for her.”

“Don’t say that,” I groan even though I know it’s the truth.

It’s been the truth since I rushed to her after I knocked her out with my puck. It’s been the truth since I drove her home. It’s not even worth arguing it anymore.

“I’m your mother. It’s my job to see what you don’t want to admit.”

I’m quiet for a second. Then say softly, “You can’t tell Étienne.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Or Marley.”

“Are you mad? She’d be planning the wedding before I finished.”

“Or Paps.”

“I swear on granny’s rum punch.”

A beat passes. My head is swimming with an avalanche of questions,mostly about my sanity. I know Mom is the secret keeper of the family, but I also know that when she gets excited about something…

“Will I ever get to meet her?” Yup, here is the proof that even if she keeps it a secret, she’s going to be nagging me for more information every day.

“If anything comes of it,” I murmur. “If I don’t screw it up.”

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