Page 49 of Falling Offsides

Then, with his voice rough around the edges, he adds, “I don’t miss the town. Or the people. Just…them. My family. The way things felt when we were all in the same room. Simple. Safe.”

I cover his hand with mine on the table and squeeze. My thumb brushes his knuckles. “That sounds really nice. The way you talk about them. It’s like you remember every detail that mattered.”

He looks at me. Holding me in his deep gaze. It feels like he’s remembering me too. Every detail of me in the here and now.

A waiter bustles past with an order, bursting the bubble of my daydream.

I pull my hand back. Our feet bump under the table—just a graze of my foot against his ankle—but neither of us moves.

We eat in silence after that. A kind of quiet that feels oddly full instead of empty.

Then, out of nowhere, Auguste asks, “You have a boyfriend back home?”

I blink. “A boyfriend? No.No.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat. Just leans back in his chair, takes a sip of water, and then?—

“Good.”

NINE

AUGUSTE

Samson is squirminglike mad underneath my hoodie as I unlock the door, his little paws scrabbling against my stomach like he’s trying to break free.

“Chill, man,” I mutter, easing us both inside and shutting the door quietly behind me. The last thing I need is him yapping loud enough to alert Courtney to our presence. A couple times today she’s made comments about me stalking her—which I’m not…

Okay, maybe I am… a little.

Not enough for it to be creepy or sleazy, though. Just enough for me to get to know her without fucking my season over with Coach.

As soon as I set him down, he bolts for the front door, scratching at it, desperate to barrel straight back across the hall.

“You miss her already?” I ask, crouching beside him.

His head tilts, giving me a high-pitched whine to match his sad eyes.

Oh man, he’s as bad as the twins.

“I kind of miss her too, bud.”

He lets out another soft yip and curls up beside the door, tail wagging slow and steady like he knows Courtney’s just a few feet away. It gets to me more than I want to admit.

Picking the little guy up, I cradle him to my chest. Where he spent most of the day attached to Court, her perfume has clung to his fur, and I can’t stop myself from nuzzling my face into his head as I drop into the couch and let him slather my face in doggy kisses.

I never thought this would be me. Sure, I love animals, but I neversaw myself getting a dog. They need love and attention and come with way more responsibility than I have time for outside of hockey.

When he’s satisfied with my sloppy face, Sammy curls up high on my chest and I lay back into the cushions. Wrangling the coffee table closer with a sharp tug, I open up my MacBook. Boot it up and get the live feed from Court’s apartment going.

For a moment, I’m tempted to exit it and just exist in the same building like normal people. Drop off a coffee here. Walk her to her door there. Keep it simple. Keep it sane.

But I can’t help it. Especially not after today.

Mom was right about the cake. I send her a quick text at the same time as Court walks into the living area of her apartment, a plate of cake in one hand, adrink in the other and her book under her chin.

The vision of her so at ease with herself pangs deep in my chest cements the only certainty I have right now:

I need Courtney.

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