Offside: Rules of the Game Book 1 -
Offside: Chapter 37
If she wouldn’t come to me, then I would go to her.
After blatantly disregarding the speed limit and one questionable four-way stop, I made it over to Bailey’s complex and parked haphazardly in the visitor zone. I killed the engine and slammed the driver’s side door, then speed-walked over to her place like a heat-seeking missile.
I sprinted up the steps and came to a screeching halt in front of the navy blue door, staring at the scattered scratches and scuffs in the paint. Doing my best to center myself, I drew in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling heavily through my nose, getting my head on straight like I was heading onto the ice.
It didn’t work. At all.
Rolling my shoulders back, I rang the bell and followed it up by pounding on the front door like a cop with a warrant. I hoped she was home studying like she said, because I needed an explanation. Stat.
The lock rattled, and the door opened a crack. A sliver of Jillian’s face appeared. “What do you want, Carter?”
For you to get the fuck out of the way, but I couldn’t use my outside voice for that sentiment.
“I need to talk to Bailey.” I nodded at the door. “Let me in.”
Jillian swung open the door, revealing Amelia standing beside her. They eyed me disdainfully, like two partners in snottiness. They didn’t like me, and the feeling was more than mutual.
“B would let you know if she wanted to talk to you,” Amelia said, giving me a death stare.
Jillian curled her upper lip. “Maybe she’s come to her senses.”
My teeth set on edge. I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of either to begin with, but my usual sense of hostility was amplified times a billion right now. They were meddling, and I didn’t appreciate it.
I could not fucking wait for James to move. Counting down the days.
“You know what?” I said, using every shred of restraint I had to keep from raising my voice. “After the way the two of you have treated her, I’m not in the mood to watch you pretend to give a shit now.”
Amelia huffed. “You can’t talk to us like that.”
Since when? Maybe a hockey player chewing out a hockey girlfriend violated some stupid bro code. Which meant I would probably hear about it from Paul and Mendez later. Whatever.
“Pretty sure I just did.” They backed up as I took a step closer. I ducked my head through the doorway and leaned into the house. “James!”
A door creaked open, followed by the sound of footsteps. Bailey came down the stairs, wearing purple and gray plaid pajama pants with a matching purple sweater, bare feet, and messy hair loose around her shoulders.
She looked so perfect that something inside of me broke.
Possibly the last tether to my sanity.
When she made it halfway down the staircase, her gaze landed on me, her eyes widening. Probably because I looked like a madman running on adrenaline, frustration, and lust, which had combined to form some cocaine-like substance in my body. Something like that. I’d never done cocaine, but I was amped as fuck.
For all the pride I took in generally being calm and collected, I most certainly was not right now.
Bailey came to stand next to Jillian and Amelia at the door. “Chase.” Her brow furrowed. “What are you—”
“We need to talk.”
She froze. Her hazel eyes swung from me to Jillian and Amelia, then back to me. If she took their side on this, I might never get over it. No, I would definitely never get over it.
I raised my eyebrows. “Now.”
“Okay.” Bailey took a step closer and waved me inside. “Let’s go talk in my room.”
BAILEY
I may have made a slight miscalculation. Because now there was a very large, very angry caveman on my doorstep.
His black T-shirt hung off his broad shoulders, hinting at the muscles that lay beneath. And gray joggers sat low on his waist, wrapping around the V of his hips. He looked every single inch the heartbreaker I was scared he might be.
Chase stepped inside, and I took his hand. Waves of tension radiated off him with such intensity that they filled the room, palpable and heated.
Amelia rolled her eyes and turned away, heading into the kitchen, with Jillian trailing behind her. They pretended to be occupied with the fridge and dishwasher while I led Chase upstairs. In reality, they’d be up right behind us to eavesdrop. Then they could report the intimate details of my personal life back to everyone else. Super.
He followed me up the staircase and down the hall into my bedroom, lit by the yellow glow of the small bedside lamp. My iPad lay on my white comforter, still paused on the Netflix show I had been half watching instead of studying like I told him I had been—like I should have been. But I hadn’t been able to focus on anything in days.
I didn’t know if we were about to talk, fight, or break up.
He shut the door behind him quietly. Before I could sit down on my bed, he closed the distance between us, and his large hands landed on my hips, turning me to face him.
Eyes still locked on mine, he took a step forward, followed by another, until he backed me up against the wooden door. His divine, familiar scent enveloped me, going to my head and straight through my defenses. My eyes dropped to the pulse at the base of his throat for a beat, then traveled to the tense cords of his neck before snapping back up to his.
He pinned me to the spot and heated my skin with just a look. He had me cornered—figuratively and literally. I couldn’t draw my attention away from him. I was victim to his commanding presence. Five extra inches was pretty significant when it was accompanied by an additional forty pounds of muscle.
Especially when he was pissed.
“What’s going on, James?” he asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
His jaw ticked. “Why are you ghosting me?”
“I’m not.” At least, not on purpose. It started innocently enough, taking some time to think. But thinking had turned into catastrophizing, and now I was pretty sure I had blown things way, way out of proportion.
“You absolutely are,” Chase said. “And I didn’t work my ass off earning your trust only to have you throw it away without an explanation.”
Desire, guilt, regret. They all slammed into me like a wrecking ball. I reached up to touch him, but he took hold of my wrists and pinned them against the door.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you want to touch me when you don’t want to be with me?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. I did want to be with him. I wanted it so badly it hurt, and that was the problem.
This wasn’t the kind of thing I’d walk away from in one piece.
“That’s not it.”
His pupils dilated as he considered me. “Then explain.”
It was an order, not a request.
My breath grew shallow. “I don’t know how.”
Every time I had tried to talk to Luke, he gaslighted me into thinking I was crazy, or he twisted the narrative to make me the bad guy. Eventually, I stopped trying. I was letting that—the past—interfere with the future. But knowing that and overcoming it were two separate things.
“Try.” He wedged a muscular thigh between my legs and brought his mouth down to hover above mine, almost touching.
I lifted my chin, and his lips crashed down against mine, his tongue pushing inside my mouth. The minute we kissed, every doubt I’d ever had, every question, every second-guess vanished.
Our mouths moved against each other, indomitable and wild, sending a wave of want surging through my body. He tore away from my lips, placing a trail of frenzied kisses down my neck and sending my desire into overdrive. I squirmed against his grip, trying to touch him, but all that did was make him press his thigh harder between my legs and hold my wrists tighter while I moved against him in response.
“If this is your idea of convincing me to talk,” I said breathlessly, “I don’t have a very good incentive to comply.”
But I was in sensory overload. He was pressed up against me while I was unable to touch him back. I wanted to feel his body beneath my hands, to map the muscles beneath his skin, and to run my fingers through his dark, silky hair.
I hit the breaking point. “Chase.”
“Stop?” He pulled back, looking at me pointedly like he was trying to prove something.
“No,” I said. “Just let me touch you.”
He released my wrists and cupped my chin, tilting my face up to his.
“Answer my question first,” he said calmly.
I bit my bottom lip, searching his face. He slid his hand from my jawline to the side of my neck. With anyone else, I would have been scared, but he wasn’t applying any pressure. It was a power move.
He would stop instantly if I said.
But I didn’t want him to.
With his free hand, he dragged the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip, gaze focused intently on the movement. Then he traced down my cheek, along the curve of my neck. I drew in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as goose bumps popped up all over my body.
“I missed you.” He placed a kiss just below my ear.
I tilted my head, yielding to give him better access.
“It’s only been a couple days, and I’m like an addict in need of a fix.”
I’d missed him too, which was why I was melting like butter beneath his hands, unable to think clearly or form coherent sentences. He splayed his palm, cupping my breast and squeezing, and I melted a little more.
“Mm-hmm,” I murmured, my brain going offline.
He skimmed lower, gliding down past my ribcage. My breath snagged as he toyed with the elastic waistband of my pajamas, but he didn’t move any farther. He pulled back suddenly, removing his hands, and my eyes flew open.
“But I’m confused. Because here’s what I think,” Chase said, voice low. “You do want to be with me.”
He was right. Not just wanted—in the moment, I needed him like air. But falling so hard, so fast for someone was terrifying. Scariest thing I had ever done. Hands down.
I wanted to believe it was a calculated risk, but in truth, I never had a choice.
“So tell me.” He bracketed the wall above my head with his hands, towering over me. “What the hell is going on?”
My brain slowly kicked back into gear now that he wasn’t touching me. “You realize Amelia and Jillian can hear all of this.” I nodded to the door. “The walls in this place are paper thin.”
“Don’t care. I’m afraid I used up all my fucks worrying about you.”
He nudged my legs apart with his knee, and I complied, pliant against his touch. Grabbing the backs of my thighs, he hiked me up and pinned the upper half of my body against the door. I drew in a ragged breath as the length of him pressed against the perfect spot between my legs, rock hard and ready.
I held on to his shoulders and pulled myself close, trying to kiss him.
“Explain first.” He pulled away, expression stern. “You were in my bed a few mornings ago, kissed me goodbye like everything was fine when I dropped you off for class, and you’ve been dodging me ever since. Why?”
His tone was razor sharp, but there was hurt in his eyes. He tilted his hips, pressing against me again and creating a jolt of pleasure that radiated up through my core. Heat flooded my body, desire unraveling. I was about two seconds or one more thrust away from trying to take off his clothes. But the tiny part of my brain that was still functional knew he was right—we had to talk first.
“Was some girl sitting on your lap at O’Connor’s recently?” I finally forced out. “Because that’s what I heard.”
Chase furrowed his dark brow. “What?”
Slowly, he lowered me until I was standing upright. I let my hands linger on his shoulders, soaking up the heat beneath his soft black T-shirt.
“I answered your question. Now answer mine, please.”
“That’s what this is about?” he asked, tilting his head incredulously. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I need a yes or no, Carter.” Now that he was here in front of me, I knew the answer, but I still wanted to hear it from him.
He slipped his hands beneath my sweater, rough fingers warm and reassuring against my waist. “That was for, like, two seconds. Lindsay plopped down into my lap from out of nowhere. I promptly turned her down, and she moved. The end.”
“That’s it?” My body relaxed, the ability to breathe returning to normal.
“That’s it. Nothing happened,” he said, voice gentle. “And it wasn’t recently; it was before Ty’s party.”
The explanation was genuine. And I was a complete jerk. A jerk who’d been baited into overreacting by Luke’s crony.
Chase narrowed his eyes. “Who told you this?”
“Paul…”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Consider the source, James.”
“But she did sit on your lap. Kind of.” I didn’t know why I was arguing that point, except to say I felt silly for having gotten upset in the first place. And even sillier for how I’d handled it after that.
“Paul twisted things around to suit his agenda and you know it. Please don’t let that asshole get in your head.”
“Thin walls.” I lowered my voice and gestured behind me. “Amelia?”
Chase glanced over my shoulder at the door, raising his voice a level. “I said, Paul is an asshole. He can’t fucking skate, either. Feel free to quote me.”
Despite the situation, I laughed. He was an instigator to the bone. At some point along the way, it had become endearing. He was my instigator, at least.
Then he looked back down at me, and his tone softened. “Paul say anything else to you?”
“Um…Well.” I drew in a breath. “He said that you slept with his cousin’s friend.” Oh, and then he called me a desperate puck bunny. But that would make Chase even more angry, and I wasn’t sure I needed to fuel that fire.
He nodded, studying my face. “Is there any chance it’s the sex thing that set you off?”
“Maybe a little,” I admitted. But it wasn’t fair to hold the past against him.
“Just because I have had meaningless sex in the past doesn’t mean it’s meaningless with you. It’s definitely not. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
“As far as the other thing goes, I’ll tell you when girls hit on me if you want, but it seems kind of pointless when I’d never act on it. Besides, I’m sure you shoot down guys all the time.”
Not really. My little bubble of journalism classes, the school newspaper, and seeing Chase didn’t lend itself to being on the receiving end of many pick-up attempts. It was sweet he thought that, though.
“Probably not nearly as much as the other way around.”
“You’re going to have to trust me for this to work,” he said tersely.
“I’m trying to. If I didn’t, I never would have slept with you.” My voice wavered. Suddenly, I was dangerously close to tears. I tamped down on it with every ounce of self-control I had. “Maybe I’m a little off-kilter right now, but that was a huge deal to me.”
His coffee-brown eyes softened, shining with affection. “I know. I don’t take that lightly.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, his lips tugging up at the corners. “I think, deep down, you know you can trust me. You just don’t trust your own judgment.”
Things clicked into place.
“Oh my god. I think you’re right.”
Chase leaned in and kissed me briefly, softly, sweetly. He pulled back and brushed my cheek with his fingers. “Then can you talk to me next time instead? Because this pushing me away thing sucks. If you don’t talk to me, there’s nothing I can do on my end.”
Right. If I had been able to approach this like a rational person, that’s probably what I would have done—talked to him. It’s what I would do in the future. Even if it was difficult.
“I’ll try. I’m not as good at talking about things as you are.” I glanced down at the floor, then back up at him. “You might not have a filter, but I have an extra-strength industrial-grade one. With a spare for backup.”
“You overthink, huh?” Chase gave me a half smile. “I’ve noticed.”
I tugged his arm, pulling him toward the bed. It sagged under his weight as he sat and turned to face me. Shifting closer, I placed a hand on his sweatpants-clad thigh. “I know this is my baggage, and I’m trying not to take it out on you. It won’t go away overnight, though.”
“I get it,” he said, rubbing my lower back. Warmth spread through the fabric of my shirt in the wake of his touch. “But I have feelings too, and that shit hurt.”
Guilt settled in my stomach, heavy like a bag of pucks. For all my worrying about him, maybe I was the one who would ruin things.
I touched his muscular shoulder, fingertips resting softly on his T-shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you. But let’s not handle things this way again, okay?”
“Okay.”
We fell quiet for a moment. He dipped his head and caught my eye, forehead wrinkling. “I’ve been pretty open with you, but I feel like you’re holding back.”
“Holding back how?” I asked, deflecting.
Thing was, he was right. I’d been holding back a tiny piece of myself…just in case. Maybe that wasn’t fair to either of us. It wasn’t working very well anyway.
“I’m not sure where your head is at sometimes.”
“I’m—” I faltered, trying to summon the courage to be vulnerable. He’d met me more than halfway. Multiple times. Warmth rushed to my face, and my nerves shot through the roof. “Crazy about you,” I said. “Certifiable. I’m just scared.”
Or, you know, terrified.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. That’s why I’m here right now.” He grinned, gesturing to the two of us. “Stubborn, remember?”
“Thank god for that.” I picked up my phone and checked the time. My heart sank. “It’s nine thirty, and you probably have to be up early tomorrow. Can you stay for a little longer?”
“I can give it another hour or so, but I should go move my truck first.”
“Why?”
Chase laughed, standing and making his way to the door. “I’m parked the way you sleep. Diagonally.”
“When you get back…” I said. “Can we pick up where we left off?” Thin walls be damned. I could turn on music or something. Or they could leave. I really didn’t care.
He stopped and glanced back at me, a smile playing on his lips. “Count on it, baby.”
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