Offside: Rules of the Game Book 1
Offside: Chapter 51

I hadn’t wanted to take my eyes off the game, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d rushed to the bathroom and couldn’t have been gone for more than two minutes. But when I returned, every member of both teams on the ice was involved in a massive altercation. They yelled and pointed and gestured at each other while the referees stood in the middle, holding players back.

One of those players was Chase. He and Luke were having words—again. Other guys sniped back and forth, not all that worked up, but Chase’s face was twisted in anger, and he was gesturing wildly.

Heart racing, I hurried down the stairs and sank back into my seat beside Siobhan. I tried to time my bathroom break with Chase’s shift change, but apparently, I’d fallen short.

“What happened?” I grabbed my half of the blue and purple plaid blanket we huddled under together for warmth, covering my legs with it.

Shiv nodded to the scrum. “Your ex took a run at Ty.”

My stomach clenched. Of course he did.

“Is Ty okay?” I asked, eyes still glued to Chase. My chest was tight, my breath shallow. What would he do? There was no way he’d let Luke get away with lowbrow action like that.

The ref leaned in and said something to him. Chase shook his head and responded with what looked like a no.

“Yeah, he got knocked for a loop, but he seems fine.” She pointed to the far corner of the ice, where Ty was trash talking Mendez.

Goalies answered to other goalies, but Mendez was soft-spoken and probably not to blame for anything. While some of the players were amped up and reveling in the chaos, Mendez was mostly still and speaking calmly, like he just wanted to get back in the net.

My gaze snapped back to Chase, whose movements weren’t quite so irate. He was still yelling at Luke, but the referee wasn’t straining to hold him back anymore.

“But it’s the principle at this point,” Siobhan added, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her red Falcons hoodie.

“It really is,” I agreed with a nod.

Goalies were off limits. Everyone knew that. Add that to the cheap hit on Dallas, and it wasn’t surprising that Chase wanted to tear off Luke’s head.

The silver lining was that Derek wasn’t on the ice, so I had one less person to worry about.

“Think anyone’s going to take a penalty?”

“Nah,” Shiv said. “No one threw any hits.”

Eventually, the referees negotiated some kind of peace, and the players filtered back to their respective benches. One steered Chase toward the Falcons bench, but Chase shrugged off the ref’s arm and headed off the ice on his own.

My breathing resumed a more normal pattern and the tightness in my shoulders relaxed a notch. It was almost the end of the second period, so maybe things would cool down during the break. Then there would only be twenty minutes of game time to get through without bloodshed. God willing.

Instead of heading to the Bulldogs’ bench, though, Luke made a sharp turn and skated over to Chase, who was halfway to the Falcons bench. They were side by side on open ice, separated from their teammates and the officials.

My heart leapt into my throat.

Luke leaned in close and made a comment. Chase shook his head, and they had a quick verbal back and forth. In a flash, Chase’s expression went from irritated to homicidal. He threw his stick, dropped his gloves, and clocked Luke square in the face. Before Luke could so much as react to the hit, Chase grabbed him by the jersey and tossed him onto the ice like he was weightless.

No, no, no.

I watched as the official blew his whistle and sped over to them, wedging himself between their bodies while holding Chase back. Or attempting to, anyway, as Chase pushed against him to get to Luke. A second linesman skated up, trying to help him restrain Chase with limited success.

Luke scrambled to his feet and backed up a few strides, stumbling as he went. He didn’t fight. Ever. Hell, he didn’t know how to fight. Which meant Chase would destroy him and get himself into serious trouble in the process.

Dallas hopped over the boards and joined the linemen, trying to talk Chase down while restraining him. Chase shook his head, all the while yelling at Luke. I had never seen Chase look that mad. There was no way they wouldn’t kick him out of the game. Maybe suspend him for multiple games.

After another split second of watching and praying, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I stood and ran down the stairs to ice-level. “Stop it!” I banged on the glass. I couldn’t get his attention, but I didn’t stop. “Carter!”

Finally, Chase turned and looked in my direction. Our eyes locked, and I made a “cut it out” gesture. “Please?” I mouthed.

He nodded, and he stopped resisting the linesman. Head down and shoulders slumped, he skated off the side and headed for the locker rooms. I climbed the stairs back up to our seats, exchanging a look with Siobhan.

“What the hell just happened?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

Waiting for Chase to emerge from the dressing room was torture. Like time was moving in reverse.

I’d spent the intermission pacing the concourse with poor Shiv in tow, who had to work double-time to keep up with my strides. I couldn’t help it; I was too wired with worry over Chase.

Siobhan and I were still on the concourse—mostly alone, thankfully—when the buzzer sounded, announcing the start of the third period. Shiv looked at me uncertainly, deep teal eyes studying my face.

“Go watch,” I said. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for him here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Chase could be a while.” He was probably getting reamed out, or he’d been forced to sit in on the intermission pep talk with the rest of the team.

It wasn’t nearly as cold in the concourse, so I unzipped my puffy black coat and perched on an uncomfortable blue metal bench, killing time by texting back and forth with Zara and Noelle about everyday stuff. I couldn’t fill them in on what had just gone down because I still didn’t understand it.

Two minutes later, Chase appeared in the hallway. His face was tight, and his posture was even more stiff. I locked my phone and shoved it into my purse, then stood to greet him.

Chase leaned in, giving me a half-hearted kiss on the lips, then pulling back again quickly. His expression was stormy, a mixture of emotions I couldn’t read. He grabbed my hand, but he was silent as we walked to a quieter, more secluded area by the doors and sat at a small table.

“What happened out there?” I dipped my chin in hopes of catching his eye, but he looked away, his attention fixed on the speckled white table between us. Like usual, Chase was too tall for the furniture, and his knees were angled out awkwardly.

“Game stuff.”

“Looked like more than just game stuff. Why did you get so mad?” I asked, voice low so we wouldn’t be overheard, although we were alone since the third period had begun and the fans were all in the arena again. “I was scared you were going to slit Luke’s throat with a skate or something.”

Chase shook his head. “Morrison shot off his mouth again. He’s been needling me for a while, and I finally snapped. That’s all.”

I stretched my arm across the table and took his hand in mine. He stroked my fingers with his thumb, but he didn’t look up at me.

“What did he say?”

“It’s nothing, James.” If it was possible, he went even more tense then, the cords in his neck tight. “Don’t worry about it.”

His deflection ramped up my worry. “Why are you being so weird?”

“I don’t want to repeat it,” Chase said, dark eyes snapping up to mine. His tone took on an edge that he never used with me. “Let it go, okay?”

“Why? Was it about me?” Of course it was. I didn’t really need to ask.

His jawline turned to granite. “Bailey.” Now I knew it was serious because he never used my real name. “I don’t want to repeat it to you. It’s gross and it’s disrespectful.”

What the hell did Luke say?

“Now you have to tell me.”

Chase’s brow knit together, but he didn’t reply. Stubborn as always. But I had a right to know what Luke was saying about me, especially if it was that offensive.

I squeezed his hand, tamping down my frustration. “Carter. Tell me, please.”

“Fine.” He loosened his tie and shifted his weight in his seat. “But I want it on the record that I’m only telling you so you’re not upset with me.”

“Stop stalling.”

Chase swallowed. “Luke told me he broke up with Sophie, so I said, ‘why the fuck would I care?’ and he said…”

“He said…?”

“Then he said, and I quote…” Chase drew in a breath, nostrils flaring. “Because I seemed to like his sloppy seconds.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.

“What?”

“Yeah, so my plan is to break both of his knees with a crowbar next time I see him off the ice.” He paused. “If you could give me his address, that would really help move things along.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but no words would come.

“Carter!” a deep voice barked. Coach Miller was standing with his hands on his hips at the dressing room entrance.

My heart sank at the very sight of him. His face was redder than the Falcons cap he was wearing, and fury radiated off his body.

“I have to go back and talk to Coach.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll wait for you. Good luck.”

CHASE

“Carter!” Coach Miller barked, storming into the office. He threw himself into his chair, leveling me with a poisonous glare. “What the hell was that about?”

“Nothing, Coach. I just lost my cool,” I said, sinking into the seat opposite him. “Won’t happen again.”

Technically, it was true. Next time, I would be calm and methodical when I tore Morrison apart. I wouldn’t make the mistake of snapping and giving him a warning signal.

“You were about to commit a felony out there.” He pinned me with his beady eyes, his expression stern. Then he softened a fraction. “What did that Morrison kid say to you?”

I folded my arms and did my best to keep my voice level. “I’d rather not discuss it. It was personal.”

Coach Miller frowned. “If it was a slur or another inappropriate comment, it can be reported to the league, and the schools will get involved.”

“Sorry. Can’t say.”

“I can take the three-game suspension down to two if I demonstrate mitigating circumstances to the league.”

“I appreciate it, but I’ll take the three.”

Even if my stats would tank.

He sighed and stared at his steepled fingers on the surface of his desk. After a long moment, he blew out a breath and brought his attention back to me. “I’m going easy on you because I think you’ve really turned a corner this year.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll let this go for now. But if you look at this Morrison again, the suspension will be a lot longer than three games.”

“Understood, Coach.”

“And if you start a fight with him again, you’re out for the rest of the season.”

Fucking hell. We both knew I couldn’t afford that.

“I won’t,” I said. “You have my word.”

Fine, so I couldn’t go after him on the ice.

And my teammates had my back.

Getting reamed out by Miller didn’t take long. But Bailey and I had to wait for the game to end before we could leave because Siobhan had driven Bailey and I gotten a ride with Dallas.

We killed time talking about anything but hockey. Or trying to talk, because Bailey was unusually quiet after I came back out. She was obviously upset by what I told her—which was why I didn’t want to in the first place.

Relief washed over me as players from both teams filtered out of the dressing rooms. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of here.

Suddenly, Bailey stiffened, her focus fixed in the direction of the concession stand. I swiveled in the direction she was looking.

Morrison.

My vision tunneled, and every promise I made to Coach Miller flew straight out the window.

I clenched my fists. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna annihilate that motherfu—”

“No.” Bailey put a firm hand on my chest. “Let me handle him.”

I grunted, pressing my lips into a thin line, breath shallow and jagged. Morrison was so close I could practically see my fist hitting his face. It was going to feel so good. The crunch would be music to my ears.

“Carter,” she said. “Look at me.”

I turned back and focused on her calm hazel eyes. My blood pressure dropped a few notches at the sight.

“I love you,” she said. “And I appreciate that you want to stand up for me, but I don’t want you to get in trouble over Luke. He isn’t worth it. I got this.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I wouldn’t argue with her because of this asshole.

She looped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer. I went willingly until our mouths came together, lips parting. I was already hopped up on adrenaline and testosterone, and the contact made me want to bend her over the nearest hard surface and fuck her right here. But I could hold off on that until we were at home.

Then she took me by the hand and pulled me halfway to where Luke stood with his friends.

“Wait here a sec, okay?”

“Okay,” I muttered.

Uneasy and without an inkling of what she planned to do, I propped myself against a pillar and watched Bailey march up to Morrison. She wound up and slapped him so hard it echoed through the concourse.

Oh snap. I wasn’t expecting that. And neither was he. Sucker.

God, I fucking loved her.

Luke put a palm to his cheek, mouth hanging open in shock. He looked over Bailey’s shoulder, and our eyes met. Her back was still turned to me.

“You’re dead,” I mouthed, making a throat-slitting gesture.

Sorry, James. I only had so much restraint.

He paled, turning his gaze back to Bailey.

“Don’t talk to me ever again.” She spun on her heel and strode my way.

Luke dropped his hand, exposing a red handprint on his face. It was beautiful. Really suited him. I had to admit, seeing Bailey lay the smackdown on Morrison might have been more satisfying than getting to do it myself.

“Bailey! What the hell was that?” Derek called, jogging to catch up with her. But she didn’t stop.

“Luke knows,” Bailey said over her shoulder, long blond hair bouncing, “why don’t you ask him?” She grabbed my hand and pulled, inclining her head to the doors. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Derek caught up to us. He touched her on the arm, ducking to meet her gaze. “B, tell me what’s going on.”

Bailey and I exchanged a look. She bit her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows as if in question. I shrugged. This wasn’t my place.

“Fine.” She sighed. “Actually, why don’t you tell him, Chase?”

So I did.

When I was finished, Derek’s face contorted with rage. “What in the actual fuck?”

He stormed back over to Morrison and shoved him, sending him flying onto his ass.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Derek said, looming over him.

Paul watched the confrontation from a few feet away, his expression torn. Probably because, at the end of the day, although he was good friends with both guys, Paul was a little bitch who didn’t want to get into a tussle.

Luke got up, dusting himself off. “What are you talking about?”

“What you said to Carter about my sister. You’re a fucking asshole, man.” Derek shoved him again, but this time, he kept his footing. “Bailey never did anything to you.”

I watched, barely fighting back laughter. I could not contain my glee at this turn of events. Both people in the James family were beating on Morrison this evening. It was fantastic.

But if one of those other idiots stepped in to defend Morrison and touched Derek, I’d wipe the fucking floor with all of them.

“What?” Luke scoffed. “Why would you trust Carter? He’s fucking lying.”

Mendez cleared his throat. “Actually, dude…I heard you say that in the locker room too.”

Oh, how the turn tables. My night was improving by the second.

Amelia and Jillian looked at each other, eyes wide like they didn’t know what to make of everyone turning on their leader. Now which way would Paul land?

Luke’s face reddened, and he glared at Mendez. “Obviously, you misheard.”

“Fuck you, man.” Derek shook his head. “And to think I gave you the benefit of the doubt over and over again because we’ve been friends for so long.”

Fucking finally. It was long overdue, but Derek was taking Bailey’s side.

“Derek,” Luke said. “Come on—”

“We’re done,” Derek fumed. “Better watch your ass on the ice against Boyd next time, because I won’t do shit if they come for you. And neither will the rest of our D.”

Derek made his way to us again, and the three of us walked away from the crowd. When we stopped at the front entrance, he shook his head, exhaling heavily.

“I am so sorry, Bailey. I had no idea…” He trailed off. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She tangled her fingers together, her head dipped low.

“Do you want me to leave you two?” I asked Bailey, thinking the siblings might need some privacy for this conversation. “I can look for Ward.”

“No, it’s fine.” Bailey grabbed my hand and laced her fingers in mine. “We can talk about it another time. Okay, Derek? I just want to get home.”

“Okay.” He nodded, turning his gaze to me. “Thanks for sticking up for her. I’ll see you guys.” He turned and weaved back through the crowd.

A pretty redhead came up to him, and he leaned in, giving her a kiss. Bailey’s eyebrows shot up a notch.

“New girlfriend?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” she murmured. “But I’m happy he’s moved on.”

Bailey turned to me again, studying my face. The low thrum of people milling about in the background filled the silence. Neither of us said anything for a minute.

“That slap was pretty badass,” I told her, unable to hide a smile.

Her lips tugged. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Hey,” Dallas said as he and Shiv approached tentatively. No doubt he wanted to grill me about what happened with Miller, but he wouldn’t do it in front of the girls.

“Are you okay?” Shiv asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Bailey and me.

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”