Home > Books > Offside (Rules of the Game, #1)(38)

Offside (Rules of the Game, #1)(38)

Author:Avery Keelan

Usually, making out was a means to an end for me. But doing nothing but kissing her was fan-fucking-tastic. Maybe I was going soft. Except I was hard as hell and about to end up with a major case of blue balls.

Still worth it.

Bailey broke our kiss, inhaling sharply. “Wait.” Her cheeks were flushed pink, breath heavy.

“You okay?”

“More than okay.” She gave me a shy smile. “But I don’t want us to get carried away.”

I nodded. I couldn’t disagree with that. If she wanted me right now, it would be almost impossible to say no.

“It’s pretty late, anyway.”

“Yeah.” Bailey sighed and rested her head on my shoulder. Her breath was warm against my neck, which only made me harder. “I was up early.”

“Me too,” I said, rubbing her back. “Breakfast skate.” On a weekend. Like I said, Coach Miller loved to fuck with me.

She crawled off me and onto the bed, getting under the covers on the far side. I slid in beside her and rearranged the pillows.

“Come here.” I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer.

She yawned and snuggled in against me. She radiated warmth, along with the scents of her perfume and shampoo, which together created something so delicious that I wanted to bury my face in her neck and inhale her all night long.

Pretty sure I would have felt trapped with anyone else draped around me like this. I couldn’t say for sure, though, since I’d never been a cuddler. I wasn’t a touchy-feely person, aside from the usual “touch-me, feel-you” one-night stand scenario.

But with Bailey, it was perfect.

She lay on my chest while I stroked her long, silky hair, having a mini-panic attack. Because I was getting exactly what I wanted, even though I definitely didn’t deserve it.

I woke up to find Bailey sitting in my desk chair, clutching a mug and absorbed in what she was looking at on her phone. Her caramel hair was piled in a messy bun, and she’d cinched the drawstrings on a pair of my gray sweats tight and rolled the waistband down. She looked fucking adorable.

“What time is it?” I asked, propping myself up on one elbow. My desk lamp was on, and it was still dark outside.

She peeked up at me. “Around five thirty.” She took a sip from the white mug she was holding. “I helped myself to the Keurig downstairs.”

“Oh my god, James. It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing up?”

“Reading.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

My chest clenched, growing tighter until it was hard to breathe. I rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Our eyes met as I swung the bathroom door back open and paused in the doorway.

“Do you have anywhere to be this morning?”

Bailey shook her head. “Not until after lunch.”

I moved close and touched her shoulder, stroking with my thumb. “Why don’t you try to get back to sleep? If I get a few more hours, I’ll be much more functional.”

Her expression was guarded, her eyes wary in a way I couldn’t interpret. I got back under the covers as she bit her bottom lip, assessing me. My breath stilled, the tension in my body growing with every second that passed. Somewhere along the line, something had gone wrong.

“Okay.” Setting her coffee on the desk, she stood. Then she padded over to the other side of the bed and slid in beside me. The blankets rustled as she adjusted the pillows and pulled the covers up over her chest until only her head poked out. “I was kind of cold anyway.”

“You could take a hoodie. They’re hanging in the walk-in closet.” James in my hoodie would probably be the only thing cuter than her in one of my shirts.

“Noted,” she said. “Next time.”

Next time. I guess that was a positive sign. But something was clearly wrong.

I shifted to face her. She turned her head my way, full lips parted slightly and breath soft. Her face was so fucking perfect that it almost killed me.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“Just couldn’t stop thinking. Sometimes I wake up early when my brain is working overtime.” She rolled to her side, big hazel eyes locking on mine. “Why were you so upset about that text Luke sent to everyone?”

Couldn’t even attempt to dodge that question or deflect with humor, because I hadn’t just been upset. I had been livid. Still was. I wanted to shove that phone down his throat.

“Was it because you thought it might be true?” Her forehead crinkled. “Did you think I would do something like that?”

“No, not at all.” I fumbled inwardly, trying to find a non-pathetic way to phrase it. “I know you can handle yourself, but it triggered something protective in me. You’re one of my favorite people.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, her gaze softening. “Who are your other favorite people?”

“It’s mostly you, I guess. Not a big fan of humankind in general.” Maybe this was a little crazy, given the length of time we had been hanging out, but it was the truth.

“Ah,” she said. “Well, now you’re stuck with me.”

“Thank Gretzky for that.”

We fell silent for a moment, considering one another. Lying with her like this felt more intimate than anything I’d ever experienced. It made my heart ache a little, and I didn’t even know why.

“One more question.” Bailey looked away. She sucked in a breath and paused, the moment heavy, and then the words came out in a rush of air as she glanced back up at me. “Have you been with anyone since we started hanging out?”

There was another tug in my chest, because suddenly I knew this was what had kept her awake.

“I mean…” She winced. “I know it’s not my bus—”

“No,” I said. “It’s okay. But the answer is no, I haven’t.”

She eyed me warily, which kind of hurt. But I understood. I knew my reputation preceded me.

“Look,” I said, touching her cheek. “In the interest of total transparency, I haven’t been with anyone whatsoever since you and I started talking.”

Her brow creased. “Would you tell me if you had?”

The puzzle pieces continued to snap into place. She’d told me about Morrison and all of his shady-ass behavior the night we met. Disappearing for days, calls and texts from other girls late at night, flirting right in front of her face. Hockey knows I was no saint, but he was next-level trash for treating Bailey the way he had.

It stung a little to know she thought I would do those things to her. But I guess getting past that would take time.

“Have you ever known me to be anything other than uncomfortably honest?”

She gave me a half-hearted smirk. “Good point.”

“I’ll always give you the truth, even if you might not want to hear it.” I covered her hand with mine, squeezing, and laced my fingers in hers.

Her eyes dropped to my hand, then back up to my face. She bit back a smile, letting out a little huff of breath. “Okay.”

We fell quiet for a moment, and she scooted closer, nestling against my chest. I rested my cheek against her hair, inhaling the clean scent of her shampoo. She sighed as I ran my fingers up and down her arm, back and forth.

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