Offside: Rules of the Game Book 1

I set my phone on Chase’s nightstand and slid beneath his covers, leaning against the wooden headboard. It was strange being in his bedroom without him; his presence permeated the room like a ghost. And the bed smelled just like him, infused with that intoxicating blend of his cologne and his natural scent.

Not that I’d been inhaling the pillowcase or anything.

Oh my god, I really liked him. It was terrifying.

A moment later, my phone vibrated. My stomach did a little twirl as I grabbed it, hitting the green Accept icon. “Hi.”

“Hey, baby,” Chase said, his voice deep and hypnotically suggestive. It did something to my brain—and other parts of my body. “What are you wearing?”

I laughed. “Are you drunk?” Somehow, I could tell by the lilt in his voice.

“I mean…” He trailed off. “Maybe a little.”

In the background, one of the guys yelled, “More than a little, you fucking lightweight.”

“Ignore Ward,” he said. “Lightly buzzed at the most.”

“Don’t you have another game tomorrow?” I shifted, pulling the soft gray comforter higher around my torso to combat the chill in the air. Chase was like a portable furnace; I was never cold when he was in the bed with me.

“It’s all good. I’m a machine.”

“I’m sure.” My gaze drifted across the room, landing on the white door to Chase’s walk-in closet. Then I remembered what he said about his hoodies. “Are you at the hotel?”

Sliding out of bed, I held the phone between my ear and my shoulder. I opened the closet, studying its contents for a second. Like everything else of Chase’s, it was neatly organized and broken into categorical sections. I pressed my lips together at the sight of it. He was so tidy all the time.

Reaching past the suits, I grabbed a white Falcons sweatshirt off one of the hangers and slipped it on. It was too big in the way that made it fit just right and broken-in enough to be soft and cozy.

“Yeah,” Chase said. “Some of the guys snuck out, but we stayed behind to have a couple beers here instead. Then I got to thinking about you in my bed, so here we are.”

I couldn’t lie; it put my mind at ease knowing he hadn’t gone out. Not that I thought Chase would do anything, but lots of guys with girlfriends hooked up on the road. Learned that one the hard way.

“The bed does seem awfully empty without you hogging all the space.”

Pulling back the covers, I crawled back under them and settled in. His bed was a dream. The mattress wasn’t too soft or too firm, the comforter was fluffy, and the pillows were clouds of perfection. It was so much better than my cheap IKEA setup.

“Me?” His laugh was deep, beckoning. “James, you’re adorable, but you sleep diagonally.”

He had me there; I was a chaotic sleeper. At home, I took up my entire double bed. I also tossed and turned so much that sometimes the edges of the fitted sheet came off the mattress. Though my sleep wasn’t as restless when I was with Chase; maybe because I had less space to sprawl out.

“I never told you what I was wearing.” I shivered, pulling the soft cotton cuffs of his sweatshirt so they half-covered my icy hands. I swear the guys kept the thermostat set to refrigerator. Maybe Shiv and I could turn up the heat a degree or two while they were gone.

“If you’re trying to distract me from your bed-stealing ways, it is absolutely working,” he said. “Go on.”

“One of your hoodies, of course.”

He may or may not get it back, but I wasn’t going to tell him that part. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if it disappeared.

“Ah.” Chase sighed. “And I’m not even there to see it.”

“Tomorrow,” I said. “How was the game?”

“Awesome.” He chuckled. “I got into a fight. I won, obviously.”

My shoulders shook with laughter. It was so on-brand. “Of course you did.”

He’d been involved in at least a minor tussle in every game I had seen. Then again, the Boyd-Callingwood rivalry ran deep, so that may not have been solely his fault. Likely not all of his games were so heated.

Except he practically had a PhD in antagonizing.

“The other team took a five-minute major for it,” he said, feigning innocence. “I didn’t start it.”

“Sure you didn’t.” I shook my head, smiling. “There’s no way you’d instigate something like that. What about the rest of the game?”

“We won four-three,” he said. “I got two assists.”

“Nice. That’ll be good for your stats.” Though they were strong enough to begin with this season.

“How’d the apartment search go with Shiv?”

“Good,” I said, fighting back a yawn. It wasn’t even that late. I had no excuse for being so tired other than heavy Mexican food and one super-strong margarita. Shiv mixed drinks like she was trying to tranquilize an elephant. “We made appointments to look at a few places on Wednesday. They’re all pretty central; right around the river district. About ten minutes from your place.”

Siobhan and I had combed the rental ads scrupulously, narrowing it down to the three top contenders for now. If those didn’t pan out, then we had two backups to consider. But there was a cute little two-bedroom with a balcony on Green Street that I had my hopes set on. It was recently updated, on a good street, and two minutes from the train. Big windows, sunny living room, and—best part of all—two bathrooms. Exactly what I pictured for the perfect starting-over apartment, so I was praying no one would snatch it up before we could go look.

“Perfect,” he teased. “Then you can swing by our home game when you’re done.”

My throat tightened. “You know you’re playing us, right?”

“Yeah. Still too weird?” Chase asked, tone softening. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“I’m not sure.” I drew in a breath and held it for a beat. It was weird, but maybe it always would be. “Can I think about it? It’s just about Derek at this point. It’s a little…awkward for me.”

Who would I even cheer for? Both sides? Neither?

“No worries,” he said. “If not, maybe the next one.”

He was trying to hide it, but there was a hint of disappointment in his voice that hit me right in the gut. All of a sudden, I felt wildly guilty. I’d attended Luke’s games religiously. All of them.

I hadn’t been to a single one of Chase’s.

“You know what? I’ll come,” I said. Shiv and I would sit far, far away from Jillian and Amelia. Like, on the other side of the arena. Before and after might take some extra vigilance, but I would figure it out.

Plus, I wanted to see Chase play.

His voice brightened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Another yawn creeped in as I was speaking.

“Sweet,” he said. “You sound tired, baby. I’ll let you get to sleep. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Night, Carter.”

“Night, James.”

CHASE

James in my bed without me. Self-inflicted torture.

I ended the call, staring down at the screen. Picturing James under the covers. Her pouty lips. Those soft sighs. Long legs tangled in mine…

Then I glanced up to find Ward standing in front of where I was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed.

He observed me, lips quirking. “How’s your girlfriend?”

Not even going to argue that point again, although, strictly speaking, we hadn’t defined it like that.

I kind of wanted to. But how would I approach it? I wanted her to be mine in a very basic, very primal way—caveman-like, as she’d said in the locker room.

“Good,” I said. “Making apartment plans with Shiv.”

“Yeah.” His posture stiffened, expression shifting from amusement into something unreadable. “Shiv mentioned that.”

I narrowed my eyes, studying him. “You don’t want her to leave, do you?”

And Ward gave me grief about Bailey. This dude.

“What?” Dallas made a face, but he was a terrible actor. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be glad to have my space back and all that…” He gestured vaguely around the room, which did precisely nothing to help sell his lie.

“You do realize the places they’re looking at are only, like, ten minutes away, right?”

At this point, I was stoked about spending time at Bailey’s place someday. Not being public enemy number one in her home would be great.

“Yeah, I know.”

Ty strolled over, amber beer bottle in hand. “Enough gossip, bitches. Are we playing poker or what? Davis and Fitz are in too.”

“You want to get taken to the cleaners again?” I asked. “It’s like you two never learn.”

Not that I should complain. A little extra pocket money never hurt. And they made it so damn easy.

“You got lucky,” Dallas grumbled.

I cocked a brow. “The last five times?” Standing up, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.

Ty held out his free hand, beckoning for the buy-in money. “Put up or shut up.”

Many hands later, it was down to Fitz, one of our senior defensemen, and me. He wasn’t a bad poker player, though not quite as good as he believed. He played in tournaments recreationally, which gave him an inflated sense of confidence.

And made him the perfect mark.

Ty dealt the final card. The river gave me the nine of spades I’d desperately needed.

Beauty.

“Call.” Fitz raked a hand through his copper hair—his tell. He had something, just not something big enough to beat me.

“Flip ’em,” I said, nodding at his hand.

Fitz turned over his cards to reveal a full house: three eights and two kings. Not bad.

Then I flipped my cards over, displaying a straight flush in all its glory: a nine, ten, jack, queen, and king of spades.

Fitz’s eyes bulged, and he slapped the round tabletop. His face reddened beneath his freckles, and he made a fist, pounding his thigh beneath the table.

“Dammit, Carter!”

“Bullshit,” Dallas muttered. “Did you have those up your sleeve or what?”

Ty cleared his throat. “Ahem, the dealer is right here, jackass, and that shit wouldn’t fly at my table. I have fucking eyes.”

“What?” I shrugged, pushing the cards over to Tyler to put away. “You thought I was bluffing?”

Fitz gestured with the neck of his beer, still baffled. “You went in big on a pair of twos a few hands ago.”

“All a part of the game, my friend.”

That pot had been small, the payoff huge. Because it made Fitz think I was a reckless idiot, which was why he went all-in against me just now.

I ended the night two hundred dollars richer. Can’t say I didn’t warn them.