Offside: Rules of the Game Book 1
Offside: Chapter 20

Siobhan descended the stairs, a fresh drink in her hand. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I keep telling everyone solo cups only, but do they listen? No. I swear, someday I’m going to replace everything in this house with plastic.” Her eyes landed on Chase and me. She came to a halt halfway down the staircase, a knowing smile on her face. “You know, I just remembered that I was supposed to go…”

Chase grinned. “It’s okay. We were coming up.”

“Right,” I said.

Before I could move, he grabbed my hand, curling his warm, strong fingers around mine.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Several hours and two more broken glasses later, Shiv and I were curled up on the living room sectional, chatting while the guys played beer pong in the basement. A few other people were scattered around the living room, chatting and drinking, half watching an NBA game on TV.

“You transferred schools this year?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Her blue-green eyes darted around the room to check for eavesdroppers. She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a hush. “After I broke up with my ex, he went totally off the rails. He kept showing up at my dorm, and the school wouldn’t do anything about it. Eventually, transferring was the only option.”

I could kind of relate, though at least Luke wasn’t quite on that level. If he showed up for another couples’ night at my house, though, I was going to whack him with a frying pan.

“That’s awful.” I gave her a sympathetic look.

“But it’s also embarrassing,” Shiv added quietly, taking a sip of her gin and tonic. She pursed her dark magenta lips. “Like, how bad was my judgment that I dated someone so crazy? That’s why, when people ask, I tell them I transferred so I could switch programs.”

“His behavior isn’t your fault,” I said. “My ex isn’t exactly a prize, either. Sometimes people hide who they really are, and it takes time to see through the façade.”

Was that the case with Luke? Or had I ignored the red flags from the start? As a freshman, I’d been inexperienced and naïve; starstruck at the idea of being pursued by a hot, popular hockey player. Looking back, I recognized a lot of little warning signs. Some not-so-little ones too.

She shrugged, dropping her gaze. Starting over like that would have to be difficult, especially in a brand-new city. If I didn’t have Zara and Noelle, I would be adrift socially right now too. Heck, I still kind of was.

“How has it been at Boyd so far? I hear good things about it.”

“A little tough. Most orientation stuff is geared toward freshman. They pretty much expect sophomores to be settled in already.”

“It’s still early in the semester,” I said. “I’m sure it’ll get better once you start doing more group projects and that kind of thing.”

“I hope so.” She sighed, tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ear. “I met Dallas at the gym over the summer. But it’s been hard to meet other girls. Most of the guys on the team don’t have girlfriends, either.”

A pang of sympathy hit me, because I knew all too well what it felt like to be on the periphery. “We should go for lunch sometime.”

“Yeah?” Siobhan’s face brightened. “I’d love that.”

James,” Chase’s voice rang out. It was low, commanding, gruff.

Siobhan froze. Her questioning look probably mirrored mine. I’d never heard him use that tone before, especially not toward me. Heavy steps echoed from the hallway.

He barreled into the room, eyes zeroing in on me as he closed the distance between us.

“Sorry, Shiv, I need to borrow her for a sec.”

“No worries,” she said, standing up. “I’m going to go beat Dal at beer pong.”

Chase took me by the elbow, ushering me through an archway into the dark, empty dining room. He shoved his phone into my hands and leaned against the table, watching me expectantly.

I looked up at him, scanning his face. “What is it?”

“Are you aware of what fuckface is saying about you?” He nodded at the lit-up screen, his jaw tight.

Brow furrowed, I studied the display. Then I blinked slowly, processing what I’d just read. It was a screenshot of a text from Luke, claiming that he was still hooking up with me on the side. Specifically, calling me his “side piece.”

That lying asshole.

My teeth set on edge. “Where did you get this?”

“We aren’t all enemies,” he said. “And not everyone on your team likes their captain.”

“Like who?”

He shrugged. “Palmer, Reed. I played minor hockey with them. And they can’t stand Morrison.”

“Oh,” I said. “I had no idea.”

“It’s not exactly something they can broadcast if they want ice time. But that dumb shit put this in a group text with almost the entire team, minus your brother, so in this case, he won’t know who ratted on him.”

The entire team? Resentment smoldered in the pit of my stomach, threatening to ignite.

Then I caught myself. No. Nope. Nuh-uh.

I wouldn’t let Luke rile me up and ruin my night—especially not when I was with Chase. Pressing my lips together, I exhaled through my nose, expelling thoughts of Luke from my brain. Begone, demon.

I handed Chase his phone. “For a minute there, I thought you were mad at me.”

“No.” His brow creased, his tone softening. “I’m mad at that.”

Chase glowered at the display again. The cords in his neck were tight, his breath uneven. Thinly restrained power and strength radiated off him, like he was a predatory animal ready to attack.

He looked ten times bigger when he was angry.

“Why do you think he would write that?” He gripped the phone so tightly it looked like he would crush it in his bare hand.

“Would I be standing here if it were true?”

“I know it’s not true, James. That’s why I’m so pissed.” He was still holding my elbow loosely with his other hand, like he’d forgotten about it. “Morrison is spreading bullshit because he’s got a problem with me.”

Trashing my reputation did fit Luke’s usual MO—never mind that I was his friend’s sister; he was all about revenge over reason, spite over smarts. Though it was an odd move, given that he was with Sophie. Did he want her to think he was cheating? Did she not mind if he was? I had so many questions, but honestly, I wasn’t all that interested in the answers.

“He is,” I agreed. “But who cares what he says?”

Chase’s jaw ticked, his grip on my arm tightening a notch. “I care.”

“Why? He’s a loser anyway.” I should have been mad, probably. Or sad. But I didn’t want to wage war against Luke; I wanted him to go away. Permanently.

My lips parted in surprise as Chase slid his hand from my elbow and rested it on my lower back. He pulled me closer, turning me to face him. Behind the anger in his eyes was something softer—tenderness mingled with desire.

“Because he’s messing with you.”

“It’s only messing with me if I let it bother me,” I said. “Besides, anyone who actually matters would know it’s a lie.”

Maybe I should have been upset, but it was more ridiculous than anything. Especially when I had pages worth of late-night texts from Luke asking if he could come over to “talk,” followed by my responses repeatedly shooting him down. I had no shortage of receipts proving that post was bullshit, but I didn’t feel the need to prove it in the first place.

Plus, I was more than a little distracted at the moment. Chase’s hand was still on my back, his scent enveloping me. The closeness of our bodies was exponentially more exciting, both physically and emotionally, than any text messages ever could be.

“Still.” He shook his head, gaze dropping back to his phone. His face clouded over like he was going to rain down his wrath on the next person unfortunate enough to cross him. “I’m going to flatten him on the ice.”

I touched his chest. “Carter.”

He lifted his head. Our eyes locked, and something clicked into place inside me. His expression relaxed, shifting from murderous into a sullen pout.

“You can if you want to. But I’m fine,” I said, flattening my palms against his black T-shirt. His heart pounded against my hands, strong and steady. “Really.”

Besides, if happiness was the best revenge, then I was 100 percent winning right now.

“I still don’t like it,” Chase grumbled. He locked his phone and slid it into his back pocket. Then he pivoted both of our bodies, coming to stand in front of me with the dining table at my back.

My breath snagged as he rested his hands on my sides, his large fingers spanning my hips. He drew in a breath and ducked his head to catch my gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice gentle. “Didn’t mean to lose my shit. Believe it or not, I hardly ever do.”

“It’s okay.” I braced my hands on his biceps, stroking lightly with my thumbs. His muscles were taut beneath the warmth of his smooth skin.

He regarded me for a long moment. “Do you want to get back to the party?”

Did I? Not really. A dark, quiet room with him was infinitely more appealing. Especially with the way things were heading right now.

I shrugged, biting back a smile. “I’m not in a big rush.”

Chase’s expression shifted, turning hungry, predatory. “Me neither.”

He slipped his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, fingers digging into my bare skin, and pulled me against him. Anticipation flooded my body. Angling low, he inched closer until our mouths were almost touching. Almost. Then he lingered, teasing. Waiting for me to close the space between us. I inhaled, taking in his scent, the heat of his body so close, then I tilted my head, and our lips came together, instantly melting into a deep kiss.

A whimper escaped from the back of my throat as his tongue brushed against mine, pushing deeper into my mouth. He caressed my jaw, then moved his hand to my nape. Gripping the roots of my hair, he secured my head in place and moved his mouth against mine, deepening the kiss until I was completely lost in him.

A wave of desire unlike anything I’d ever experienced crashed over me. It was heady and intoxicating, relentless and persistent, growing stronger with every sweep of his tongue.

I slid my hands to his lower back, palms resting on the stacks of lean muscle. Drawing in a jagged breath, Chase grabbed the backs of my thighs and set me on the tabletop. Then he nudged my knees apart and positioned himself between my legs until our bodies were flush, creating a delicious hint of friction where we touched.

Heat pooled between my legs, wanting and needing, as he pressed against me. I took his bottom lip between my teeth, and a low rumble emanated from his chest. He skimmed my bare stomach with his fingertips, tracing the waistband of my jeans, and a pulse settled between my thighs.

In the background, laughter spilled out from in the living room, snapping me back into the present. I’d all but forgotten where we were.

We broke apart, breathless. My heart roared in my ears.

He shook his head, voice husky. “You’re killing me, James.”

“Why’s that?” I whispered.

Chase lowered his head, planting a row of kisses down my neck. “Because I don’t want to stop. But if I keep kissing you,” he murmured against my skin, “I won’t be fit to be around other people for a good, long while.”

He pulled back and smoothed my hair with a playful grin. “Later, it’ll be a different story.”

After some distraction in the form of our impromptu make-out session, food, and video games, Chase’s mood improved significantly. But I did kick his ass at NHL again—and Dallas’s.

Chase and Tyler thought it was hilarious. Siobhan was stifling giggles, or at least attempting to. And Dallas was furious, which only added to our collective amusement.

“Ooh, want some cream for that burn?” Tyler laughed, taking a swig of his beer. “She schooled you both.”

“How?” Dallas threw the white game controller onto the empty leather armchair beside him, slapping his leg. He turned to Chase and me, throwing a hand in the air. “Like, what just happened?”

Chase shrugged, giving me a lazy grin. “I’m pretty sure she’s a wizard.”

“That’s what happens when you grow up with three older brothers.”

“Rematch,” Dallas declared, picking up the controller again. He navigated back into the main menu and opened the settings. “The game is rigged,” he muttered, squinting at the screen. “Something’s wrong with it.”

From the armchair, Siobhan rolled her eyes, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, Dal.”

“It’s okay to lose sometimes, Ward.” Tyler propped his legs on the ottoman, not even attempting to hide his grin.

Dallas shook his head. “I never lose.”

“Actually, I’m getting tired.” I stifled a yawn, wondering if Chase would come to bed when I did, or if he would stay up with his friends like Luke always had.

Chase shot me a glance. “Want to call it a night?”

“I think so.”

He set the game controller on the glass coffee table and stood, stretching his arms. His black T-shirt hiked up, revealing a sliver of washboard stomach that I did my best to ignore. Though after being pressed up against him earlier, I already knew his abs were spec-tac-u-lar.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good too. Let’s go.”

At that, tiny fireworks erupted low in my belly. We were going to bed—together.

I pushed off the couch and stood up, then made my way out of the room with Chase following close behind.

“Later, losers,” he said to the guys as we headed up the staircase. “See ya, Shiv.”

“This isn’t over, James,” Dallas called. “I want a rematch tomorrow.”

Chase laughed, the rumble low and deep in his chest. We started up the stairs, and he put a warm hand on my lower back, leaning in to murmur in my ear. “You do know Ward is going to stay up all night playing now, right?”

A tingle ran down my spine and goose bumps popped up along my arms when his breath hit my neck, but I tried to act normal. Keyword: tried.

“You’re saying he’s a sore loser?” I asked under my breath. “Gee, couldn’t tell.”

“It’s not personal,” he said. “And it’s not because you’re a girl, either. It’s that no one ever beats him. Which is what makes it so great.”

Chase let his hand linger on my back as we continued down the hall. I was dying inside in the best possible way. He followed me into his room and closed the door behind us.

As soon as it clicked shut, I was hit with a whack ton of nerves. Suddenly I was jittery—skittish in a way I wasn’t usually with him. Sure, there was always a hefty dose of sexual tension between us, but most of the time, it manifested in teasing and banter, play-fighting and flirting.

Right now, it was manifesting in me being coiled tighter than a spring.

After tonight’s kiss, everything felt different.

We’d moved out of the friendship gray zone tonight. Our mutual attraction was out in the open, and the chemistry between us had proved to be explosive.

He switched on the lamp on the nightstand, bathing the room in dim yellow light. Then he turned away from me and pulled clothing from the wide dresser beneath the flatscreen TV. I threw my bag on the bed and rifled through its contents. I had a clean tank top, underwear, shorts, and best of all, a toothbrush. After spending the night with Chase under disastrous circumstances before, having the ability to brush my teeth this time was a huge relief.

Hygiene was important, after all. Not because I would be kissing him again or anything. But, you know…just in case.

Okay, even I knew we were about to kiss again. That was why the tension was through the roof and I was practically vibrating.

“I know I lost our bet, but you can still grab a shirt.” Chase nodded to the tall dresser beside him. “If you want.”

Want. Not need.

Was it wrong to want to sleep in one of his shirts even though I had my own?

Probably.

And yet, I was totally going to do it.

“Speaking of that,” he said. “Since you won, are you going to collect?”

“I haven’t decided what I want yet.”

He grinned. “I could give you some ideas.”

Heat spread through my body. My cheeks were likely the reddest they had ever been. He winked at me and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I perched on the edge of the bed in hopes of catching my breath.

The good news was, I definitely wasn’t tired anymore. The bad news was, I was so keyed up that I might never sleep again.

And I had no idea what, if anything, was about to happen.

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