Offside: Rules of the Game Book 1

After waking up earlier than usual with Chase, I took the opportunity to head to the Callingwood Daily to get some writing done and study.

But I caught up with—and maybe did a little gossiping with—Zara and Noelle instead. I couldn’t help it; I was flying way too high to write a dry technical piece for Professional Communications.

“I haven’t seen you much lately, B.” Zara leaned over the table, eyes glinting mischievously. “Chase keeping you occupied?”

I peered up at her from over my laptop screen. “Oh, you know, I’ve been busy in general.”

“Getting busy, more like,” she said.

I dragged my attention back to the blank word processor screen, warmth spreading across my cheeks. Good thing no one else was in the office with us.

Hopefully, I didn’t have just had amazing morning sex written all over my face. Or more accurately, just had amazing night and morning sex, which I’ve been replaying in my mind for hours while thirsting to see him again and questioning my sanity because I can’t focus on anything else.

What was happening to me? I’d never felt like this before. Ever. I’d have to tame this before finals or I’d flunk out of college.

“Maybe a little.” I cleared my throat, certain my face was as red as a Falcons jersey.

Zara and Noelle exchanged grins across the table.

“What about you? How are things with your guy?”

Zara had crushed more than her fair share of fragile male egos—and hearts. This was the longest she had ever dated someone without losing interest. And she seemed really happy.

Her glossy plum lips pulled into a wide grin. “They’re great. He’s amazing.”

“Aww! I love that for you, Zar.” I nudged her playfully.

Noelle frowned at her laptop screen. “Um…Huh.” She drummed her fingers on the tabletop thoughtfully. “Professor Johnson wants you to cover the Bulldogs game tomorrow so we can move the arts feature to Saturday and fill that empty space. Sorry, I know that’s short notice. Are you okay to do that?”

Did I want to? Not really. Should I do it anyway? Probably. Even though I was supposed to watch Chase’s game that night.

“It’ll be fine,” I lied.

If anything was going to kill my Chase buzz, it was dealing with Derek.

We had hardly spoken in weeks, and when we did, things were strained. I’d tried to blow him off—again—when he texted asking to meet, but I finally relented when he insisted that it was important and promised it wasn’t Chase- or Jill-related.

Coffee with my brother should be easy enough, right? Couldn’t be any worse than the disastrous meeting with Paul.

I was having second thoughts now, though.

We settled into a table near the front of the campus Starbucks while I eyed him warily. It was sad and awkward and comforting all at once to be with him.

Derek was dressed the same as always, in athletic pants and a Bulldogs top—today it was a hoodie. His entire closet was a monochromatic blur of gray and navy blue.

He glanced down at his white cardboard cup before meeting my eyes again. I swore to God if he said one word about Chase, I would leave immediately and ignore him until Christmas.

“So…Mom and Dad are selling the house,” Derek said.

My stomach pitched. “What? How come?”

The cozy brick two-story wasn’t anything impressive. It was well lived-in, to be sure. The beige carpets needed replacing, the worn hardwood could have used refinishing, and the bathrooms were terribly outdated.

But it was the house I grew up in. The house we came back to for holidays. The place my mother loved more than anything, with the garden that she babied year after year, spending hours each day tending to the peonies and rose bushes.

It was warm and welcoming, comforting when I needed it. And one of my favorite places in the entire world.

“I guess Dad’s been out of work for a little while. They can’t afford to keep it.”

Everything came crashing down. A wave of nausea slammed into me. Hard.

“Hold the phone,” I said. “Dad is out of work? Since when?”

Why was it that when one thing went right in my life, something else immediately went off the rails?

He hesitated. “June. They didn’t have him return this fall. Education budget cuts, I guess. They axed a bunch of the older, more experienced teachers in favor of hiring new graduates who are cheaper.”

“Why are you only telling me this now?”

“I just found out, B.”

Glowering at Derek from across the table, I took a sip of my vanilla latte. It held no appeal anymore, but I couldn’t justify wasting it.

“Are you sure about that?” If he’d kept this from me, I was going to be so ticked.

“Yes,” he insisted. “They didn’t want either of us to worry.”

I frowned, still pinning him with a stern glare. Something didn’t add up. “Why am I hearing this from you instead of Mom and Dad?”

“Mom wanted me to tell you in person. She thought you’d take it hard,” he said carefully.

She was right. Especially considering the house had been almost paid off until they refinanced it to cover my medical bills. This was basically my fault. Not just basically—it was. Literally all because of me.

Derek added, “It probably makes sense for them to downsize now that we’re all gone anyway.”

“I never heard them talk about downsizing before,” I said. “As far as I know, they planned to stay there forever.”

Pretty sure our mom had used those exact words—it was her “forever house.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Things change.”

Running out of money would do that. I scrambled mentally, searching for possible solutions or ways I could help, even though I only had about ten dollars to my name.

“What about Mitch and Steven? Can’t they help them out?”

“They have been.” Derek tilted his head, giving me a look that was meant to be sympathetic but came across as borderline condescending. Still pulling the older brother act. “That’s why they’ve been able to keep the house this long. But neither of them has much money, either. Everyone is tapped.”

“Right.” I nodded, swallowing a massive lump in my throat. Now I wished we hadn’t met somewhere so public. I kind of felt like crying. “So, they’re going to sell it after Christmas?”

“Er, no. It’s already been listed. But worst case, we’ll do Christmas at Mitch’s.” Derek frowned and picked up his cup.

Right. My oldest brother lived in a small house with his wife and three kids. My second oldest brother, Steven, was a perpetual bachelor who lived in a one-bedroom apartment. And this scenario left Derek and me sleeping on couches, because we couldn’t afford a hotel.

Not to mention my parents. Where were they going to live?

“Have Mom and Dad got a new placed lined up?”

“Not yet,” he said, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “They can’t buy anything until the house sells. Plus…I mean, their credit isn’t great anymore with all this. They might have to rent something.”

“Oh my god.” I crushed the cup I was holding slightly. My parents weren’t that young. They should have been thinking about retirement, not losing their home.

“It’ll be okay, B.”

But Derek was trying to convince himself as much as me.

“I don’t see how,” I said. “I hope the house sells if that’s what they need. But I’ll be really sad if we don’t get to have Christmas there. Especially one last time.” My breath snagged.

Derek nodded. “Yeah, me too.” His throat bobbed, and he paused.

I used the lull in conversation to take some deep breaths, quelling the urge to cry. For now, anyway.

“On another note—”

My sibling senses tingled. Alert, alert. Attack incoming.

“Don’t start.” I was already keyed up emotionally, and I’d probably explode if he started in on the Chase issue.

“I’m not trying to,” he said softly. “I wanted to know how you were doing.”

I deflated, lowering my shields halfway, willing to give him a chance but still ready for a fight.

“I’m good. Things are good.”

“Classes?”

“Going well. Straight As.” Not like I had a choice if I wanted to keep my scholarships.

He studied me, brow furrowed. “Carter’s good?”

“He’s great.” I felt a goofy smile emerge across my face. Couldn’t help it; always happened when I talked about him.

“I’m glad,” Derek said. “I mean, I still don’t get it. But if he’s good to you, I’ll try.”

It wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement, but it was progress. If they could start off by co-existing peacefully, I’d consider it a win.

“That’s all I ask. If you guys kept an open mind and put all that other stuff aside, I’m sure you’d get along. At least off the ice.”

He shot me a look that said he didn’t believe me even a little, but he said nothing.

“What about…you?” I asked.

I was afraid to know the answer.

“I ended things with Jill.”

“Oh, thank god.” At least there was some good news coming from this. And Jill had been extra bitchy lately. Maybe that was why. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He drained his coffee and set down the empty cup. “Honestly, I don’t know how I got sucked into something that messed up. It was like this weird slippery slope.”

In a way, I got it. Not the whole affair part. But the slippery slope thing, for sure. It was like I woke up one day in a really terrible, controlling relationship with Luke, and I couldn’t believe I’d let it get to that point. And I didn’t fully grasp how bad it was until I was out of it.

“Good. You deserve better than that.”

Now if Mendez would dump her, the karmic retribution would be complete.

“I’m going out with a chick from my finance class this weekend, so we’ll see where that leads.”

“Even being alone is better than being with someone toxic,” I said. “I wish I had known that a long time ago.”

He shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. “Is Luke still contacting you?”

“Sometimes.” I shrugged. It was hit or miss.

Chase wanted me to block him, but that kind of thing only made Luke escalate more. If Luke thought he was getting to me—he wasn’t—it kept him on more of a leash.

Derek shook his head, his face clouding over. “I told him to stop.”

Good to know he had tried for once, I guess. I wasn’t sure if he knew about the untrue things Luke had texted to the team, but I wouldn’t get into that right now.

“So did Chase. Repeatedly.”

“That’s what the hit was about, huh?”

“Little bit. Luke is a cheap shit anyway,” I said. “He probably deserved it either way.”

Derek laughed. “Probably.”

My phone lit up with a reminder. I had an appointment with my academic advisor across campus in half an hour.

“Oh shoot. I should go.” I stood up, pushing the chair back.

“I’m glad we got to talk,” he said.

“Me too.” We had more to work through, but it was a step in the right direction.