Offside Play Quotes

“I don’t know how I’d get through my week without a good book on my Kindle to jump into whenever I feel like I need a little escape.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Holy shit. I’m sitting next to Summer Andrews.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“I see the first long, silvery-white streak of a meteor dashing across the sky. “Wow,” I say, feeling my chest leap in awe at nature. Then another comes. And another. Before long, the sky is full of shooting stars. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” I ask, my eyes wide and my chin raised, taking in a sight that looks like it comes from a dream. “No,” Hudson answers. “Except for this morning, when I saw your golden hair feathered over my chest.” My heart tugs, and the warmth that rises in me makes me forget the low temperatures. Hudson continues. “Or a couple days ago, when I saw you laughing when Salsa tried to do a backflip. Or last night, when I came up behind you and kissed you on the soft shell of your ear, and saw it blush. Or when I saw you on the stage with your violin, making the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. Or when you fall asleep before me, and I get to gaze at your closed, peaceful eyes.” The long tails of the streaming meteors are growing blurry as tears of happiness gather in my eyes. “Other than the hundreds, the thousands of times I see you,” Hudson says, “no, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“magnet, pulling me towards her and into another kiss. After a gentle feathering of our lips, she shivers, so I step past the threshold of her door and shut it closed behind me. “Hey, now I get to tell you that I love you indoors for the first time,” I remark with a smirk. “I love you.” Summer laughs while shaking her head, but her cheeks are flushed and rosy. “What a milestone.” “I know. Can’t wait to tell you that I love you while sitting on the couch for the first time. Or tell you I love you in the kitchen for the first time. Or⁠—” She cuts off my stream of jokes. “How about telling me you love me in my bedroom for the first time?” My cock twitches. She yelps as I dip down to scoop her up in my arms, already marching towards the stairs. “Now that’s an idea.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“It’s been a week and a half since I told Summer how I feel, that I don’t want us to pretend that we’re anything other than real boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. It almost scares me to say it, but it’s been the best week and a half of my life. Every night either I’m spending at her place or she’s spending at mine. Every day we’ve either had sex, or I’ve nestled between her legs and tasted her sweetness while making her smooth, soft thighs squeeze my head. Often both scenarios took place on the same day, sometimes more than once. You’d think my dick would be exhausted by now, but nope. Even after Summer rode me reverse cowgirl last night until I had the most explosive orgasm of my life and came more than I thought possible, I’ve still been rocking a semi this morning ever since Summer got dressed in the tight black leggings and the oversized crewneck sweater she’s wearing. The sex isn’t even the best part. It’s waking up with her soft hair feathered over my chest, the way my hand fits so perfectly into hers when we walk side by side, the rush of prideful possessiveness I get when I call her my girlfriend and know it’s true. Those are the real highs, even more so than unraveling over her naked body and watching her cheeks flush with pleasure while my sweat drips onto her. Not to understate how fucking incredible that part is.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“It’s been a week and a half since I told Summer how I feel, that I don’t want us to pretend that we’re anything other than real boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. It almost scares me to say it, but it’s been the best week and a half of my life. Every night either I’m spending at her place or she’s spending at mine. Every day we’ve either had sex, or I’ve nestled between her legs and tasted her sweetness while making her smooth, soft thighs squeeze my head. Often both scenarios took place on the same day, sometimes more than once. You’d think my dick would be exhausted by now, but nope.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Want to watch a movie?” I ask, reaching for my laptop. He grunts affirmatively—I’ve gotten good at reading Hudson’s grunts—”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“If Carter can fix some of his puck handling issues and improve his speed, he might be the best NHL prospect out of all of us. I don’t know what my dad was thinking when he offered his less than stellar opinion of Carter earlier this semester. Actually, scratch that, I’m pretty sure I do know what he was thinking: only focusing on the negatives of Carter’s game, and being blind to any of his talents as long as there was something to criticize.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Being snug under Hudson’s muscular arm and pulled into the crook of his side is quickly becoming my favorite place to be.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“I asked if he’d still like me if I were a worm. He said that if I were a worm, he’d fill his room with dirt for me, so I’d never have to go anywhere else.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Fuck, I can’t wait until tomorrow morning. I’m going to fuck her so hard that anyone walking past our room would think there’s an opera singer in here rather than a violin player.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“She’s in my arms right now. Tomorrow morning, before checkout, she’s going to be under my body. Probably on top of it. Maybe in a variety of other positions, too.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Can I be honest?” “Of course,” she says, lifting her head from where she was resting her forehead on my chest, a questioning look in her eyes. I grin. “I was kinda hoping to see you had to wear a tuxedo again.” She groans, sticking out her tongue. “I looked terrible in that stupid uniform. I wish you didn’t see me in it.” If Summer thinks she could ever look terrible, no matter what she wears, that’s a thought I need to disabuse her of right fucking now. I push her chin back with my index finger. “You looked sexy as fuck in that tuxedo, my little penguin.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“My roommate’s brow elevators up her forehead while her jaw goes in the opposite direction. “Hudson … how are you in New York instead of a couple blocks away right now?” “Booked a flight,” Hudson says, shrugging like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Olivia sends me a look that says we’re definitely going to talk about this when you get back. I guess that conversation will also be a good time to tell her about the mind-blowing sex Hudson and I had in my bedroom when she was over at Mariah’s house.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“I think about the reason Summer and I are doing all this: to get her ex, Sean, off her back. I can’t help but wonder what he did to lose her. How idiotic does a guy have to be to screw up a relationship with a girl like Summer? If she were mine, really mine, I’d damn sure never do anything to risk that. Did he cheat on her? The thought makes me want to rearrange that pretty-boy face of his.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“her cute little belly button.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Every time her cute face scrunched up with mental effort trying to understand a particularly tricky concept, my heart thrummed with pride. Her determination is sexy.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“This girl puts up with me being a sullen grump after kissing her, plans me a surprise birthday party, and then tries to make me feel better about said sullen-grump era. Space is what I thought I needed. To keep myself from falling for Summer, which I’d felt myself dangerously at risk of. Truth be told? I still feel at risk of it. It feels like I’m hanging on the edge of a cliff by my fingertips, feet dangling over the vast expanse of Feelings for Summer Canyon, just one slip or slide of my fingers away from plunging into it. But treating Summer like she doesn’t mean anything to me is one thing I won’t do again.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Tuck pulls me back to reality with a sharp, pointed cough right next to my ear. “Uh, when you’re done eating your girlfriend’s face, you’ve got presents to open.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Ugh, listen to myself! I’m becoming a pessimist!”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Summer.” Hudson’s voice is suddenly hoarse, my name a plea on his lips. “I feel like I’m about to do something. Something I shouldn’t. Something that …” “Just kiss me, damn it.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Now I do feel like I’m about to fall, not off my skates and onto the ice, but into Hudson’s pale blue eyes.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Come on!” Tuck groans. “If I baked brownies, I’d share them with you!” Sebastian snickers. “Tuck, if you baked anything, no one would ask.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“ridiculous. Oversized jerseys are just comfy to lounge around the house in, and I didn’t realize this before because I never wore a jersey before, because I was never into sports. I’ve just discovered a whole new genre of comfy, lazy attire, and I’m indulging in it. I’d be wearing a jersey even if it belonged to someone else from a different sport. No doubt about it.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Sean’s not here, you know.” Olivia’s strange words stop me in my tracks as I round the banister at the bottom of the stairs to head to the kitchen. “Huh?” I turn to her questioningly. She’s lounging on our loveseat. “Your ex. He’s not here.” Dumbfounded, I blink. “Uh. Yeah. I hope not. What are you⁠—” “The jersey.” “What?” A sly grin curls on Olivia’s face. “You’re wearing your fake boyfriend’s jersey. Even though there’s no one here to see it.” Blush crawls up my neck and scatters into my cheeks. “It’s comfortable.” If even I don’t miss the defensive edge in my voice, there’s no way my too-sharp-for-her-own-good roommate misses it. “Uh huh. Comfortable.” Her reply is coated in sarcasm.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Iprobably didn’t have to make that poor guy think I was seconds away from biting his head off his shoulders. But I couldn’t help it.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“two other guys saunter over to our table. One of them has closed-cropped light brown hair, and his demeanor makes it clear at a glance that he’s thrown back a couple drinks already. He leans his forearms against the side of our table and rests his gaze on me. “Darren,” he introduces himself. “What’s your name?” I’m about to politely tell him that I’m not interested, but before I can say anything, a much lower, colder voice addresses itself to Darren. “Hey, buddy.” The tone of those words is enough to make Darren’s back straight as a rod in an instant. He turns around to find himself face to face with a six-foot-four, tattooed mountain of muscle. Hudson drills him with a glare sharp enough to cut through solid rock. “You’re talking to my girl.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“As for me, of course I’m wearing Hudson’s jersey.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Rhys tilts his chin towards me. “Watcha got there?” “Cupcakes,” I say, walking to the kitchen counter and setting the tray down. That’s all I need to say to have Tuck, Sebastian, and Rhys stampeding in my direction.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play

“Nice tux,” Hudson says, like he’s reading my mind. I scrunch up my nose like I’ve caught a whiff of a bad smell. “They make us wear it.” “It looks good on you.” Liar. “I look like a freaking penguin.” Hudson chuckles, a low and gravelly sound that I feel low in my belly. “My little penguin.”
― Lyssa Lemire, Offside Play