Page 53 of Offside

I mentally check off the dates. I should be able to return to the next team practice on Friday morning if everything goes according to plan.

What I’ll be doing before then is anyone’s guess.

I’d like to think it will involve Karis.

Naked and in bed.

24

Karis

“Can I ask you something?”

I’ve been working at the kitchen table for the past hour after we finished dinner, stewing over my disagreement with Nate from earlier today. I’ve mulled over all of our past discussions, trying to evaluate objectively whether I think Nate is the right person for this role.

I want to ask Ballas’s opinion of the GM before I make a final decision but I realize there’s a conflict of interest there, considering that Nate wants to cut Ballas and I don’t.

However, Ballas is not known for sugarcoating anything and he’s worked with Nate long enough to have formed some level of opinion based on his experience. If I make this decision based solely on my own perspective, I’ll be doing the team a disservice.

I peek over the top of my laptop to find Ballas sprawled out on the couch, looking casual and comfortable in his track pants and T-shirt as he watches the pre-game sports commentary.

He mutes the TV and swings his head in my direction, giving me his undivided attention.

“If it’s about our chances of beating the shit out of Calgary tomorrow, there is no question. We’ve got this, even if I’m relegated to this couch to watch it play out.” He regards me with a smile, flipping to his side and propping his head in his palm. “But go ahead, what’s on your mind?”

I hesitate a moment and slowly close my laptop, considering how to ask this without giving away too much. These types of things can swirl in the gossip mill and I don’t want it getting out.

“What do you think of Nate McGowan’s leadership? What do your teammates say about him?”

The question seems to give him pause, his brow wrinkling. “Hmm…that’s a loaded question.”

Ballas swings his legs over the side to sit himself upright before bending his long torso at the waist and propping his elbows on his thighs. His biceps flex and pop, and I swallow at the sheer sexiness of this man. Even in the most mundane situations he exudes sexual appeal and does crazy things to my belly.

After the doctor’s visit, we came to the joint conclusion that Ballas would remain in my home for another 24 hours. One more night to ensure he’s good on his own and solid on his feet before he returns to his own apartment.

Of course, I persuade myself into believing it’s purely a business decision and nothing personal.

But that’s a lie I’ve told myself because I’ve enjoyed his company these last two days. I didn’t realize how lonely I’d been and how much I craved the presence of another soul in my midst. Specifically, I’ve craved Ballas’s touch and closeness.

It hasn’t come without a great deal of difficulty, though. I have to keep my reactions in check so I don’t do something stupid. Like throw off all my clothes and jump him while he’s on the couch looking sexy and good enough to eat.

Like now, for example.

Ballas slides his fingers through his tousled hair, the strands sliding softly out of his eyes and long lashes.

He shrugs. “I can’t say I think he’s made the best decisions for the team, in my opinion. On top of which, he’s an A-1 asshole. But that’s just my personal bias and means nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

I know I can’t share my intentions with Ballas, but I do want to test the waters. We had that brief conversation already about Ballas’s plans for retirement. Although he didn’t sound too interested in managing or coaching a team, I believe he’s extremely capable of doing it.

“Your feedback—” I stop and correct myself. “I mean, theplayers’feedback is important. A GM is such a critical piece. A leadership change, like what we did when Marek took over as GM for Pilots, can turn a team from a losing prospect to a winning franchise.”

“That’s Marek for you. He’s a good guy in every way.”

I lick my lips. “You’re a good guy, too, Ballas.”

He huffs. “Not sure that’s an adjective anyone has ever used to describe me. I’m grumpy and pissed off most of the time.”

“You sell yourself short.” My voice is soft but firm as I stand and move into the living room. I take the seat directly across from the couch where he sits, mirroring his position and placing my forearms against the top of my thighs. “I’ve seen enough of you to know that when you allow yourself the freedom to do it, you’re respectful and caring. You certainly have shown that side of yourself with me.”

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