Page 72 of Falling Offsides

“She’s turned you into a demanding little shit.” And I like it.

I throw my kit bag across my body so that the strap stops him from slipping down my chest when I take out my phone and pull up the feed to Courtney’s apartment.

The yearning to be close to her is so damn suffocating that I don’t feel bad one bit for watching her sit at her breakfast bar with a bowl ofsomething mushy she’s stirring around with one hand while the other holds her phone up in front of her face.

“Mom…” She's sobbing so hard that her words are broken into hoarse hiccups. “Mom, please… please just?—”

A beep cuts her off and she collapses forward onto her arms crossed the counter. Her sobs don’t stop and my heart cracks wide open.

The quiet devastation she won’t let anyone else see rips through me, spurring my feet to move faster.

I don’t see or hear or care about anything else as I hold Samson tight to my chest and run through the torrential summer rain like my life depends on it.

I think it does.

I think this isit—the moment I prove that we can be more than friends. That in spite of all our fears, we are perfect for each other. There isn’t a thing I won’t do for Courtney.

Because she’s the only thing that feels real anymore.

Because I’d rather bleed out slowly than live one second without the ghost of her breath against my skin.

The doorman gives me a curious look when I run through the door into the lobby and head straight for the elevators.

“Sorry, Mr. Broussard but the lifts are stuck on the sixth floor,” he tells me in his British accent. “New family moving in…”

“Thanks, Alfie,” I say giving him a thumbs up as I head for the stairs.

I race up the first five flights with nothing but the murmur of the burn in my calves from today’s drills and training. My pulse is hammering in my throat by the time I get to the seventh floor, trying not to drop Samson when he panics at my forceful lunges, powering me the rest of the way.

I get to mine and Court’s floor with the pounding of my heart echoing between my ears, sweat misting my sight as I exit the feed on my phone and take a few steadying breaths before I stop outside Courtney’s door.

I ring the doorbell and wipe the sweat beading on my forehead again. My scalp is so fucking itchy from the heat trapped by my coarse, wet hair.

“No pissing,” I warn Samson at the same time as the door inches open and Courtney’s small gasp fills the silent gaps between my ragged breaths.

“What…? What are you doing here?” Tear-swollen eyes widen on me.

Shit. My mind goes blank for anything carefully contrived as my mouth opens and I tell her, “You—” Gasp. “—said you don’t—” Another gasp. “—need this.”

I gesture between us the same way she did in the car. Samson’s already trying to jump ship, but I think the first move now has to be hers.

“Auguste…” A tear rolls down her cheek. Heavy. Lonely.

It’s killing me not to physically pull her to me. So I try with my words.

“I do.” My heart thumps into my lungs mercilessly as I continue between serrated breaths, “I need this. Us. I need you, Court. To hold you and make today better. Let me make it better for you, ple?—”

All the air is throttled from my chest, cutting my words short when she throws herself at me. Arms coiling awkwardly around me with Samson on my chest and my kit bag on my back.

If the rain is torrential, Courtney’s tears are cataclysmic. Guttural sobs wrack her entire body deeper into me while Sammy licks the side of her face closest to him.

“Hold on, baby. Hold on to me,” I murmur into her hair, allowing our bodies to sandwich Samson in place when I grip her hips and lift her up my front. Her arms wrap around my shoulders as I carry her inside her apartment.

I don’t let her go or ease my hold on her for one single second as I set her down on the kitchen island and keep her pressed to me and Samson.

It’s only when he tries to wriggle free that Courtney sits up, pulling back with a sniffle. He’s so quick to get in there and lick her tears away that I don’t get the chance. But I don’t begrudge him one little bit when she chokes out a hoarse giggle.

For a second, I can breathe again. For a second I get a glimpse at the girl I’ve fallen for faster than the wayward puck I hit her with.

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