Offside: Rules of the Game Book 1

The bus ride home felt like days.

When I walked in, Bailey was curled up on the living room sectional with her silver laptop propped up beside her. She looked adorable wearing black leggings paired with my white Falcons hoodie. Definitely an added perk to coming home.

Her hazel eyes lit up when they landed on me. “Hi, stranger.”

She closed her computer and stood to greet me as I rounded the couch. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I ducked my head to kiss her. Her warm vanilla scent surrounded me, always smelling vaguely like a cookie or something equally delicious that I wanted to devour—literally.

Her lips parted, and our mouths slanted, deepening the kiss. She drew in a soft breath, arms sliding to rest on my shoulders. My hands smoothed down her ribcage, past her hips, cupping her perfect ass. And instantly, I got hard. Maybe I should have done this somewhere else, because I was getting way too turned on in the middle of the living room.

The front door swung open, and Dallas barged in like a goddamn rhinoceros. “Don’t mind me,” he called, clomping by. For someone so graceful on the ice, he had lead feet at home. “Just going to find Shiv.”

Mood-killer.

“Sorry we ran late,” I said, tracing her jawline with my finger. “Some of the guys took forever to get their act together and check out from the hotel after the game.”

She blinked slowly, lips forming a little smile. “It’s okay.”

“C’mere.” I threw an arm around her, tugging her onto the couch with me. Bailey flopped down beside me, exhaling with a sigh and shifting ninety degrees so her long legs draped across my lap.

I scanned her face and let my gaze drift down to her torso, clad in my gray sweatshirt. It was a little oversized on her, but in the most perfect way. And I knew the curves beneath it were phenomenal.

I wanted to throw her down on the couch and ravage her. But I didn’t want her to think that was the only thing I was interested in, especially after a few days apart, so I held off.

Our gazes met again, and it felt like coming home; being with her felt like home.

“What were you working on?” I asked.

“Well…” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I was reading an internship posting Zara sent me.”

“With what company?”

She was playing coy for reasons I couldn’t quite discern.

“Penalty Box Online.” She grabbed her laptop, turning it to face me.

I skimmed the description and the requirements.

“James.” I glanced up at her. “This sounds perfect. You’re going to apply, right?”

She made a little noncommittal sound and did a half shrug, dropping her gaze. “We’ll see. I’m not sure I’m qualified.”

I studied the description of the internship again. “Babe, it sounds like they created this for you.”

She rolled in her lips like she wanted to argue but didn’t. I hated that she thought so little of herself and her abilities sometimes. I hated the reason why even more. Fucking Morrison.

“Don’t self reject,” I told her. “You’ve got nothing to lose by applying.”

“Yeah.” Her gaze turned distant for a beat, and she nodded. “You’re right. I’ll do what you would do. Assume I’m awesome and that everything will work out.”

“Exactly. You’re going to stay over Wednesday, right?” I flashed her a crooked grin, one that almost always got me to yes.

“Yeah, I can.” She smiled, suddenly shy. “I’ll get some of that stuff done early. And I don’t have class until ten on Thursday. Unless you need to be up early.”

“I have dryland that morning, but I can come back after. I should be home around eight.” Crawling back into my bed to find James in it was my literal idea of heaven.

“That works,” Bailey said. “I still have a group project to deal with tonight anyway. We’re having issues between group members, and I have to play mediator.” She rolled her eyes, letting out a huff of annoyance that was more cute than angry.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her really angry. Irritated, yes. But never losing her temper. It was probably inevitable with my dumb ass, though.

“Unfortunately, I have a lot of schoolwork to finish before tomorrow too,” I said. “And now that I can kiss you freely, I’m not sure I would be as productive with you here as I was last time.”

“Let’s be honest.” Her green-gold eyes traced my face, pink lips tipping upward. “You weren’t trying to be productive then, either.”

Was I that obvious? Damn.

“I may have been buying some time,” I admitted. “But Ward has consistently bad timing.”

Her jaw dropped, her mouth forming a little O. “So you were going to kiss me.” She swatted my arm playfully.

I smiled. I was busted and I knew it. “I was sure going to try.”

“You can kiss me now if you want,” she said, her voice turning breathy.

Coming closer, I twined a hand in her hair, pulling her to me. Our lips came together softly. She placed a cool hand along my jaw as she kissed me back.

I could only describe it as a shut-off switch for my brain, because everything else faded away. The moment stretched out forever. All that existed were her sweet lips moving against my lips in the most achingly perfect way and her body pressed up against mine.

Slowly, we broke apart. Her lips curved into a shy smile again. Then her expression turned serious, and she studied my face.

“Speaking of schoolwork, how’s that probation going?”

“Thanks to you and to the good grade I got on my essay,” I said, “I am officially out of the woods on that one.” And I was trying to keep it that way. Unless I lost my cool and beat the shit out of Morrison in the near future, which was a strong possibility and would absolutely be worth it.

Ideally, though, I’d clobber him on the ice, thereby helping the team while avoiding jail.

“Really?” Bailey’s face brightened and she squeezed my hand. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, but I still have to watch myself. Like at the game against you guys this week.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that part. Coach Miller had been giving me regular “stay the fuck in line” pep talks—which we both knew were warnings.

Her brow creased, and she shifted her body weight. “Are you sure it won’t be worse if I’m there?”

“No, it’ll be fine.” I shook my head. That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. Having her there would be so much more than fine. “It’ll be great,” I assured her. “I’m looking forward to you coming. I can keep my cool.”

I think.

Dallas strolled into the living room. “Dinner? Yes?” He raised his dark eyebrows, pointing at Bailey, then me. “I can cook.”

“Wait. You guys go away all weekend, work your butts off, then you come back and cook for us?” Bailey asked.

I mean, Dallas would be doing all the work in this scenario, but if I got credit by association, I wouldn’t complain. Grilling wasn’t really a two-man job, but I guess I could stand beside the barbecue and pretend to help.

Two hours later, we had perfectly grilled steaks, loaded baked potatoes, and a masterpiece of a Caesar salad, compete with fresh bacon crumbled over top.

The company wasn’t too shabby, either.

Bailey set her fork down on her plate and took a sip of water. Her lush lips landed on the glass, drawing my attention. All I could think of was her mouth on my mouth. Or, well, other places.

“You know,” she said, “I haven’t heard any embarrassing stories about you from your friends yet.”

I swallowed a bite of medium-rare steak with trepidation. There were embarrassing stories, and then there were embarrassing stories. But I could trust Ward not to throw me under the bus. Didn’t need some of those tales getting out, least of all to James.

Some of the guys on the team might need a small reminder.

“Hmm.” Dallas furrowed his dark brow. “That’s a tough one. I feel like most of them implicate me too.”

“All the better.” Shiv leaned over in her seat, nudging him with her elbow. She pushed her curtain of dark hair over her shoulder and looked at Ward expectantly. “Start talking, Dal.”

He glanced over at me. We shared a brief, silent understanding that he wouldn’t completely ruin my life, and I would do the same for him. Thanks, man.

“I don’t know,” he said, drumming his fingers on the wooden table. “There are some good ones from that juniors tournament in Finland. Like the restaurant thing.”

Ah, that was a fun trip. It was the summer before freshman year, the first time we’d been afforded any real freedom while we were away for a tournament—with the trouble to show for it.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “That was kind of funny.”

And low on the embarrassment scale, comparatively speaking. At least my clothes stayed on in that one. Nice save, Ward.

Bailey tilted her head, pausing with a fork full of Caesar salad. “Why, what happened?”

“On our first night there, they let us go out on our own,” I said. “Ward and I headed downtown, far away from the touristy stuff near our hotel. You know, to get an authentic local experience.”

“Obviously we didn’t speak a lick of Finnish,” Dallas added, taking a bite of his loaded baked potato.

Shiv and Bailey watched us, rapt, as we continued.

“We rolled up to this restaurant, and it was packed, so we figured it had to be good.” I tossed back.

“But with the language barrier, communicating with the hostess was an issue,” he said. “She pointed at a table, then to a group of people who were already seated. We nodded and were like, yeah, we want a table too. Then she seated us at the end of this long table, right along with these other people. We thought it was strange, but we were like, okay, maybe communal dining is the Finnish way.”

I huffed a laugh at the memory. “The other people were giving us funny looks, but we thought it was because we were American. The server kept bringing us courses of food, one after the other. We didn’t get the chance to order off the menu. Again, it was odd, but we rolled with it.”

“They even poured us wine without asking,” Dallas added. “When we were finished, we went to pay, and they wouldn’t take our money.” He paused, taking a sip of his beer, his lips curving against the mouth of the bottle. “Because we crashed a wedding reception by mistake.”

“We left a huge tip and booked it out of there,” I said, snickering.

Shiv tipped her head back, letting out a throaty laugh. “How is this the first I’m hearing of this?” She recovered partially, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s a good thing you two are pretty.”

“Sure is.” Bailey bit her lip. Her shoulders shook beneath my gray hoodie as she attempted to fight back a fit of giggles and failed.

I waved them off, fighting a sheepish smile. “Yeah, yeah.”

Dallas looked down at his plate, cutting off a piece of steak before glancing up again. “There was also the Amsterdam thing on the way home.”

Bailey turned to face me. “Amsterdam…?” Her brow knit together, expression turning wary.

I laughed, squeezing her thigh beneath the table. “We did edibles, James. Magic brownies. We didn’t hit the red-light district.”

The father of one of our teammates handled the travel arrangements for the entire team. We got stuck with a random thirty-six-hour stopover in the middle of the Netherlands. Obviously, we had to seize the opportunity to check out a “coffee shop.”

“But edibles are tricky, and we had no idea what we were doing. So, of course, we overshot and ended up super high,” Dallas explained. “Like, super fucking high.”

Bailey and Shiv exchanged a look over the table that was somewhere between amusement and these idiots.

“Then we got the munchies,” I said, “so we found a McDonalds. We ordered everything on the menu, and with the exchange rate, it worked out to like two hundred dollars by the time we were done,” I recalled. “You know, I bet we could have dined at the fanciest joint in Amsterdam for that.”

“To be fair, those were the best chicken nuggets I’ve ever eaten.” Dallas’s expression turned wistful. “Worth the twenty-five bucks.”

I guffawed. “Because you were higher than a fucking kite. You were dipping them in your strawberry milkshake, dude.”

“Once we got back to the hotel, Carter lost his phone. We ransacked our room looking for it—using his phone as a flashlight. Finally, I wised up and decided to use my phone to call his. And he screamed when it rang in his hand.”

Shiv laugh-snorted, slapping her palm on the table, and Bailey broke into a fit of giggles. It wasn’t my sharpest moment, but it was funny in retrospect. I’d been pretty fucked up before, but that took the cake. Or brownie.

“Then we turned on Anchorman,” I told them. “We were a solid half hour into the movie before either of us realized the TV had been on mute the entire time.”

“Oh my god,” Bailey shouted, hazel eyes crinkling. “You two are such a gong show.”

Dallas chortled. “I blame Carter. It was all his idea.”

“I believe you,” Bailey said.

“What?” I shrugged, picking up my bottle of beer. Beneath the table, Bailey shifted her weight, accidentally brushing her leg against mine and momentarily diverting my attention. “It’s legal there. When in Rome. Er,” I stumbled, “Amsterdam.” See? She had a crazy amount of power over my brain.

“I think the lesson here is that you should never be released into the wild together without proper supervision,” Shiv said, still fighting back a chuckle.

“In our defense, we were only eighteen,” I said. “I like to think we’re a little bit smarter now.”

“I should hope so.” Bailey wiped away a tear of laughter. “You a closet pothead, Carter?”

“Ha, not really.”

“That’s not a no.” Her brow crinkled, expression sobering. “But what about drug tests?”

“I’m talking a couple times a year, max. In the off-season.” Usually. Ty was another story, with an encyclopedic knowledge about how to outwit drug testing and several successes doing so.

“Ah,” she murmured. “You really are corrupt.”

“Trying to reform,” I said. “Kinda. Why? Are you telling me you’ve never done that?”

She scrunched up her nose. “Once or twice. I just didn’t like it.”

Huh. I couldn’t picture Bailey doing anything illegal. Or breaking the rules in general, for that matter. Wasn’t sure how she ended up with me, but definitely wasn’t complaining.

“Ah, my rule-follower.” I patted her thigh beneath the table, letting my hand linger on her leg. She shot me a sidelong glance that was more than a little suggestive, which instantly turned me on again. Dammit.

Not long after, Shiv drove Bailey home so they could swing by and check out the exteriors of the apartments on their list. To, quote, “assess the sketchiness factor of the area and check out walkability to nearby Starbucks.” Chick priorities, I guess.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.