Page 51 of Offside

“Hey, Bal. You okay? I saw the hit you took, brother. It looked vicious.”

I can always count on Marek to get to the point. We don’t see each other much during our busy seasons, but our friendship is closer than ever. Honestly, I thought it would change once he became involved with and then married Harper. My worries were over nothing because Marek is a rock and as loyal as they come.

I pace along the windows of the guest room like a caged cat looking for a way out. Even my orgasm didn’t diminish the constant desire for Karis.

Truth is, nothing has done the trick—not the distance I kept during the summer, not hockey, not other women. Nothing has satisfied my craving and need for her.

But she’s made it clear. There’s a line she doesn’t want to cross and she’s adamant we keep it intact.

I blow out a long breath and run a hand through my still damp hair. I let it grow longer over the summer and have been debating whether to cut it before we get too far into the season. Although Karis certainly likes to weave her fingers through it and snag it in her grasp.

“Depends on the definition of okay.” I laugh dryly, shaking off my thoughts about Karis.

“Well, that sounds ominous. You home? Want me to come up for a day or two?”

Marek knows my entire family is back East. My sister, Bella, tried calling me last night but I let it go to voicemail, and I didn’t get a chance to call her back since Karis took away my phone privileges until late this morning.

I debate whether I should tell Marek where I am and who, precisely, is taking care of me. He ascertained through thatI’ve known you for a fuck-long-timevoodoo shit the morning after his wedding that I’d fucked Karis. At the time, she was only his team’s owner and not tied to the Vikings beyond her relationship with Marv, so it didn’t really matter.

Now, however, the weight of that personal decision has a bit more impact on my professional life, and hers.

The guilt of not telling him weighs heavy on me, though.

“Nah, man. I’m good. Karis Spurlock made sure I had someone with me last night in case anything happened.”

There. That’s the God’s honest truth, even if I’ve omitted a portion of it.

I underestimate my friend’s shit detector because his next question backs me up against the wall.

“Balls, are youwithKaris?”

That’s a fucking loaded question if I’ve ever heard one. How the fuck do I answer that?

No, I’m notwithher. Have I been with her? Do I want to be with her again in the biblical sense?

Fuck yeah, I do.

That’s irrelevant though since Karis has said her peace.

I chuckle darkly. “I stayed in her guest room last night. She’s the boss and insisted I not be alone. What could I say?”

“Jesus Christ, Bal. Please tell me you didn’t sleep with her again.” I know without even seeing him that he has that typical furrow in his forehead right now.

“You think so little of me? Dude, I have a head injury.”

He chokes out a laugh. “Yeah, exactly. You’ve always been a fucking headcase but your dick still works.”

I snort out in laughter. He’s hit the nail on the head, as per usual. The man knows me better than I know myself sometimes.

“No, I didnotsleep with her.” I stare at the bed where I might have if both my body and my brain had been in sync. And if she’d finally given in to the irresistible pull between us.

There’s a long pause on the line, and I’m sure Marek is trying to decide whether he believes me or not.

“I swear, I did not sleep with her. I slept in the guest bed, alone, like a goddamn invalid.”

Marek snorts at my response. “Ballas the Beast is a force to be reckoned with. Which means, as soon as you’re cleared, I’m sure you’ll be back to the same old antics.”

“What can I say? Can’t keep a good man down.”

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