Home > Books > Offside (Rules of the Game, #1)(109)

Offside (Rules of the Game, #1)(109)

Author:Avery Keelan

Chase started to reach for me and caught himself, dropping his hands to his sides. He balled his hands into fists, flexing and releasing. “That’s not—I want to be with you more than I want anything.”

“Right,” I retorted angrily. “Except you’re choosing not to.” An ache erupted in my chest, so consuming that I thought I might literally be having a heart attack. I loved him. He loved me. I knew both of those things to be true, so how could this be happening?

It was like learning everything I thought to be true was a lie.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is what’s best.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words didn’t appear. We stared at each other, bathed in unspoken words and unanswered questions. The silence stretched on and on while my heart bled out on the bedroom floor, one beat at a time.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I should go.”

With another pained look, he turned and started for my bedroom door. Still frozen to the spot with disbelief, I watched him disappear into the hall. Moments later, the sound of the front door shutting quietly behind him followed.

Tears erupted in earnest, accompanied by huge, gulping sobs. I couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t catch my breath, couldn’t make sense of what Chase had said. Everything we had was gone. And I still didn’t understand why.

“Bailey?” Shiv called. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

Seconds later, she stepped into my room. When she caught sight of me, she rushed over and threw her arms around me. “What happened?”

My voice cracked. “I don’t know.”

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CHAPTER 55

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48 HOURS

Chase

Fuck my life.

I guess I just did.

“Think about it, James. We would have really tall kids. They would be giants.”

“You’re drunk, Carter. Cute, but drunk.”

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BAILEY

Blinking in disbelief, I reread the email on my screen.

“Dear Ms. James, we are delighted to inform you that you have been selected to receive full tuition funding for the upcoming academic year…”

My chest pulled tight as the words blurred. I got it. I got the scholarship.

It was a hollow victory when Chase had blown up my world recently. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what happened. He showed up looking like someone died, broke things off with zero warning, gave me no explanation, and left. Just walked out the door without looking back.

Since then, radio silence. No calls, no texts, nothing.

I’d been going in circles ever since, trying to figure out what went wrong, what to do now, and how to make sense of it. I’d picked up the phone and selected his contact at least a dozen times—either out of sheer habit or because a surge of resentment would hit me and I wanted answers. Hell, I deserved answers, far better ones than the half-assed excuses he gave me. But every time my finger hovered over his name, I’d freeze. Hurt, anger, confusion, pride…a million things held me back.

I grabbed my coffee off the nightstand, draining my second cup of the morning. I hadn’t gotten more than three or four broken hours since it happened, and those were punctuated with nightmares and crying fits. Eating held zero appeal, either. At this point, I was surviving on caffeine, sadness, and air.

After huddling beneath the covers with my laptop for another half an hour, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. I turned the water temperature up almost as hot as it could go, scrubbed the grease out of my hair, and had a nice, long cry under the stream of water. Once my throat was hoarse and my skin was wrinkled, I grabbed a towel and dried off, then changed into a set of clean pajamas. I wasn’t leaving the apartment today, so why bother with real clothes? I was showered, and that was a major improvement over the previous two days.

Even though I still felt dead inside.

Looked it on the outside too. All the crying had left my skin blotchy and my eyes red and puffy. I had barely eaten in the past few days. Not for lack of trying, but looking at food turned my stomach, and actually consuming it was worse.

My friends were rallying around me, but somehow, their efforts were the opposite of comforting. I wanted to be left alone. Siobhan had cooked and tried to entice me into eating. Derek wouldn’t stop sending are you okay? texts. And Zara and Noelle had kindly stepped in and offered to take over my newspaper duties for a while. Taking them up on it had been gut-wrenching, but I didn’t have much choice. I wasn’t fit to be out in public, let alone attending games and taking notes.

And later this week, I had a second interview for the Penalty Box internship via videoconference. How was I supposed to keep it together when I was dying on the inside?

When I emerged from my bedroom, Siobhan was settled on the couch watching a true crime documentary. Seemed like an odd choice for nine thirty in the morning, but I’d learned by now that her media tastes skewed eclectic, to say the least.

Crying for two days straight had taken its toll, and even after the hot shower, I ached all over. I shuffled into the kitchen and refilled my coffee. Breakfast was probably a good idea, but it held zero appeal.

Standing behind the counter, I debated whether I should talk to her about what I’d been mulling over. What more did I have to lose? Chase was already gone.

I went into the living room and sank onto the couch next to her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Shiv hit pause on the remote and shifted to face me. She scanned my face, her expression softening. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” I admitted. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed, willing it away. “But I have a question. Only if you can keep this between us, though. If you and Dallas don’t keep secrets from each other, that’s okay. I just won’t ask.”

“Ask away. I won’t tell him, promise.”

I trusted her. Unlike Amelia or Jillian, who were incapable of keeping secrets from each other or their boyfriends, I believed that Shiv would honor my request.

“Can you get me Kristen’s number? Or maybe figure out where I could find her on campus? I need to talk to her.”

Siobhan’s brow creased. “I can probably track her down. Why?”

“This.” I unlocked my phone and showed her the picture Luke sent me. Only then did it hit me how strange it was that Luke had this picture in the first place. Between his texts and Chase’s arrival—and subsequent implosion of my life—I’d been in such deep shock that I hadn’t considered the implications until now. Was Luke following Chase? Was he following me too? My stomach turned at the thought.

Shiv frowned, studying the screen. “That’s weird.”

“Right?”

I hit the button on the side of my phone and held it in my lap, trying not to look at the lock screen, which was still a picture of Chase and me from the hockey gala. I couldn’t bring myself to change it. But every time I saw it, a thousand papercuts tore at my heart. I set my phone aside and took a sip of scalding hot coffee, praying the caffeine would compensate for the lack of sleep and massive emotional hangover. At the rate I was going, I’d need an entire pot to make a dent in my exhaustion.

Siobhan rested her chin in her hand and drew in a breath, hesitating before she spoke. “I don’t want to insert myself into something that isn’t my business or cause more problems, but I did see—well, I saw Chase and Kristen having an argument after the last game. When I asked him about it, he said she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Maybe he went over there to tell her to back off.”