Page 30 of Offsides

It's a delicate balance.

Especially where Dani is concerned. She has to have some inkling that my feelings for her are more than platonic. Otherwise why would I have kissed her that one night? Surely she doesn't think I would throw away our entire friendship for a quick fuck?

But kissing her too soon was obviously a foul. Even so, I need to make it clear that I’m interested in her, while also respecting her boundaries.

She throws me a surprised look over her shoulder when my hand stays on her back, but she doesn't object. I'm going to count that in the win column.

When we reach my car, I drop my hand from her back so I can open her door. That earns me another surprised look, but once again she doesn't say anything. Once she’s safely inside the car, I close the door, and move to the driver’s side to climb in.

The drive to the store passes in relative silence, but it's not awkward or uncomfortable. I'm glad. The last time we sat in extended silence, it was very awkward. This feels more like how things have always been between us. We've never had to talk just to fill the silence. We've always been comfortable just being together.

Which is part of the reason that I've always wished that we could be more. If I'm going to be in a relationship, I want it to be with someone who doesn't require me to entertain them twenty-four-seven. Someone who understands the demands of my schedule, especially during football season, but even during the off-season. Dani understands the need for training no matter what time of year as well as the need for a proper nutrition plan. Hell, she follows one herself. And she trains just for the fun of it since she's not competing anymore. Although, some part of me wonders if she would enjoy competing again if she had the opportunity.

I wait until we reach the store to bring up my question. We’re wandering through aisles of cosmetics, skin care, and more types of shampoo than I ever knew existed. Dani seems almost as lost as I am. Every once in a while she glances at her phone, squints at a product, replaces it on the shelf, and moves on.

“So, uh, I was wondering …”

She glances at me, a small jar of something in her hand, her eyebrows raised. "Oh, yeah? What were you wondering?"

Clearing my throat, I pick up a tube of something, glance at it, and put it back. “Well, I was just wondering about lifting competitions.”

She puts the jar back down, then walks to the next aisle. This one seems to claim her attention more, she stares at the rows and rows of products, as though searching for something in particular. Squinting at her phone again, she crouches down and pulls a bottle from the shelf, flipping it around and squinting at the tiny print on the back. “What were you wondering about lifting competitions? Are you thinking of entering?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “No. I was wondering when the last time you competed was.”

Her head jerks up sharply, and her eyes narrow, the bottle in her hand forgotten, at least for the moment. “Why?” Her voice drips with suspicion. She stands again, crossing her arms, the bottle now trapped near her armpit. “Did my dad call you?”

“What?” I hold up my hands, palms out. “No! Why would your dad call me?”

“I don’t know, dude.” Her brows pull together, confusion and irritation projecting from every line of her body. “You’re the one who brought up competitions. Why else would you bring it up? I thought my dad might’ve decided that getting my friends to harass me was a good tactic to bully me back into doing what he wants.”

“Christ, no.” She relaxes at the denial. “Jesus. Would he really do something like that?”

Frown still in place, she pulls the bottle out from under her arm to peer at it again and shrugs. “Yeah. He might. I’m kinda surprised he hasn’t yet, actually. I don’t know if it’s because he didn’t think of it, didn’t think it would work, or realized it might be crossing a boundary, even for him.”

“So I'm guessing you don't want to compete anymore then?”

Dani starts laughing. Not just a soft chuckle either, but full-on belly laughing in the middle of the store. I join in, more out of reaction than from finding any humor in the situation myself. Is her dad really that controlling? That she honestly thinks he might try to contact me? In order to get her to do something that he wants?

Does that mean she never wanted to compete at all? I know she said that her dad was the driving force behind her competing, but I figured she must've enjoyed it at least some. Otherwise why wouldn't she have protested ages ago? But I guess it's hard to resist your patently, especially when they’re apparently highly manipulative.

After a moment, Dani’s laughter dies away, and she reaches up to wipe her eyes. Shaking her head, she lets out one last chuckle. “No. No, I never wanted to compete. That was all about my dad. I enjoyed lifting. I still do. And I have nothing but respect for people who participate in strength sports—or any sports for that matter—but that level of dedication and discipline is not for me. I enjoy being able to eat whatever I want sometimes. To pig out when I have PMS. To not push my body when all it wants to do is rest. When I was competing, I had no leeway for any of those things. And if I had tried to take a day off that wasn't scheduled, Dad would have a fit. He’d yell and scream and tell me what a disappointment I was until I caved and went to the gym like he wanted me to.”

She takes a deep breath, her eyes still staring at the bottle in her hand, but I don't think she's actually looking at it. "He wanted me to go to Michigan with Luke and try to get on the Olympic lifting team there. Luke had a scholarship. Dad was convinced I could get one too. Even though I was a powerlifter and only did Olympic lifting for fun occasionally, and even that was to appease both my dad and Luke. I mean I had fun doing it too. I didn't mind when those lifts were in my program. But again, I never enjoyed the competition part of it."

Unable to help myself, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. She turns into me, her free hand gripping the open half of my coat. "He dreamed of me competing at the Olympics. Powerlifters don't do that. So powerlifting wasn't good enough anymore. Not when there's a world stage available. But that was his dream. And by the time I’d graduated high school, I knew I didn't want to live his dream anymore. So I came here. To Marycliff. And I still supported Luke because he always enjoyed the competition. Guess I don’t have to do that anymore.”

I wrap my other arm around her, hugging her now. I'm not sorry. I can't handle seeing her upset or sad, and I especially can't handle it if I'm not allowed to do anything about it. Even if the only thing I can do is give her a hug. I lean my face into her hair, wanting to kiss the top of her head, but holding myself back. I learned my lesson about kissing already. But at least she's letting me give her comfort. I don't know what I would do if she pushed me away right now.

“What's your dream, Dani?”

She sniffs, and I want to pull back so I can look in her face to see if she's crying. I hate it when she cries. It’s so rare that I always assume that someone must be dead or dying. But when she finally answers, her voice is steady and reassuring. “I’ve always wanted to help people. I'm fascinated by the human body and the things it can accomplish. And it's always bothered me to know that when people get hurt they often don't regain their full level of ability. I know, I know that it's not always possible. But I want to give people a chance. A chance to feel like themselves again, and maybe even improve on it depending on where they started.”

Dani’s always been supportive and cheered me on anytime we discuss football or my desire to put my biochem degree to work in a lab, helping people by developing new antibiotics against resistant strains. Or maybe curing cancer. Or some other lofty goal of creating a new drug that will save lives and make the world a better place. How come we never talk about her goal of becoming a physical therapist and how much she wants to help people?

Have I always been such a selfish ass?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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