Page 8 of Falling Offsides

That gets a laugh out of her. One that trills in spite of her wince as she holds her head in her hand.

It grips something in my chest. Fisting it so tight that I can’t say shit to convince her while she bites her lip. Deliberating. No, from the pull of her brows, she’s debating with herself before she finally sighs.

“Okay. Fine. But only because buttfuck nowherewouldtotally be worse than death.”

“Exactly,” I say, walking backwards into the locker room. “Don’t move.”

“Yes, sir.” Her tone is a total tease, and when I level her with a glare, she asks, “What?”

“You’re a total brat, aren’t you?”

Courtney grins and now, I’m not certain that giving her a ride is the right thing to do.

Of course she moved.

By the time I came back out Courtney had a carry-on, her camera bag, and a backpack sitting with her, along with a sickly smile on her face. At least she let me carry it all to my SUV. I shoved it all in the trunk with my kit and made quick work of hauling her ass inside before someone saw us and rumors spread.

It’s gonna be bad enough when Coach finds out I almost cracked his daughter’s skull, I don’t need him getting other ideas from the rumor mill.

Courtney’s quiet when I get in and hand her Koolpak I had in the back with a random first aid kit Mom put in my stocking last Christmas—what else do you get a man that can afford to buy himself whatever he wants?

A smile tugs at my mouth at the memory.

“So you do smile?” Courtney says. “Thought you have Moebius Syndrome or something.”

“Moebius what?”

“Moebius Syndrome,” she grins, toying with the ice pack in her hand. “It’s a congenital disease?—”

“Jesus, I’m not fucking diseased, Courtney.”

What’s with this girl?

“Oh no, you got that look on your face.”

Look?“What look?”

“Thatlook.” Fuck, she’s smiling again and my chest is doing crazy shit.Again.

“How about you give me your address and stop givingmea migraine? I’d like to get you home in one piece.”

Pulling her phone out, she opens up her email and gives it to me. “That place.”

I look.

My foot jerks on the gas, jolting us out onto the road.

Fuck.

“Is there a problem?” Her question is laced with genuine concern. “If it’s out of your way, it’s?—”

“No.”Not at all.“You should probably close your eyes and rest, like Doc told you to.”

Courtney takes her phone back and rests her head on the window with the Koolpak between her head and the glass.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out how any of this is happening. What is going on today? Is Mercury in retrograde?

First, I crack her head open, and now I find out she’s moving into my building. Across the hall from me.

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