Offside (Rules of the Game, #1)

by Avery Keelan

“Oh, I don’t think Chase is going anywhere. Not to sell him out or anything but…” She paused. “Okay, I’m selling him out a little, but he’s cute about you.” I couldn’t fight back my goofy smile. “I can’t believe I used to hate him.” “You did?” Shiv tilted her head questioningly. “I thought I did, anyway.” I frowned. So much had changed recently that it felt like up was down. “In your defense, he can be a total pain in the ass on the ice.” She laughed. “Dallas says he’s one of those players you love if they’re on your team and hate if they’re on anyone else’s.”

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.

“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.”

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.

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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

“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.”

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

Picturing James under the covers. Her pouty lips. Those soft sighs. Long legs tangled in mine…

“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.

“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.

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.

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.

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 white 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.

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.”

I hated that she thought so little of herself and her abilities sometimes. I hated the reason why even more. Fucking Morrison.

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.

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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

“Oh, it’s a good thing you two are pretty.” “Sure is.” Bailey bit her lip. Her shoulders shook beneath my white hoodie as she attempted to fight back a fit of giggles and failed. I waved them off, fighting a sheepish smile. “Yeah, yeah.”

“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.

“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.

“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.”

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.

The stakes were especially high tonight because Bailey was in the stands with Shiv. Hell, I didn’t merely want to win; I wanted to annihilate the Bulldogs. You know, male pride and all that. Not to mention the ever-present desire to crush Morrison in every possible way.

We got stuck in the corner, locked in a heated puck battle. He attempted to stick-check, and when that failed, he accidentally-on-purpose slashed me in the hand with his blade. Hard. I sucked in a sharp breath as searing pain shot through my left hand and wrist. Cheap motherfucker. I hated him almost as much as I hated Morrison.

As I passed, Morrison tipped forward, nodding at the scoreboard. “How’s it feel being down by two points after the first, Carter?” This was his idea of trash talking. Pointing out the score. “A hell of a lot better than being a free agent with shitty stats,” I said. “Must be stressful, man.”

His upper lip curled in a sneer. “Has Los Angeles wised up and dropped you yet?” “At least I got drafted,” I told him. “Guess there are some things your mommy and daddy can’t buy.”

To make matters worse, the officiating in the second was trash, with blatant infractions against us flying under the radar. Several hooks on Ward, including one on a scoring opportunity. Bailey’s brother boarded me, plain as day, and it didn’t even get a whistle. What the hell, refs? The only thing we were doing right was playing a physical game with lots of hits. It wasn’t doing squat for our scoring chances, though.

“Carter,” he said, dragging out the last R in the most aggravating way possible. “I forgot to ask, how are things going with my ex?” Clearly, he’d been working on that zinger since we spoke during the first period. “Fucking fantastic.” I flashed him a cocky grin. “Thanks for asking.”

“You know,” he said, “I popped that cherry.” My molars clenched so hard they nearly disintegrated. Forget what I said. Consider me riled. I glared at him, nearly paralyzed with rage. “Shut the fuck up, man.”

“Ooh,” he said, laughing. “That bother you?” The sex part? Not really. What James did before me was none of my business. Besides, there wasn’t much to be jealous about when I knew all about Morrison’s pathetic bedroom performance. Him talking about her like that, though? Yeah, it bothered me. A lot.

“Did you not hear me the first time I said to shut the fuck up?” “Just surprised you don’t care more about her.” He shrugged. “Or maybe it’s not that surprising, given your reputation.” The edges of my sight grayed out, my vision tunneling and my aggravation levels topping out. My frustration was at a record level. Even worse, I was frustrated about being frustrated. No one got to me like this. Ever. Because I did care, and he was lucky for it. I cared about James too much to throw everything I knew in his face. I never would, but damn if I didn’t want to. Hell, I’d love to send out a Callingwood-wide email with a CC to his parents to show them what garbage he’d turned out to be.