Page 110 of Falling Offsides

“Gotta go. Bye.” I hang up and ignore the incessant ringing that follows until he gives up and I’m left withCrazyplaying on repeat in the background until I cut some dude off, parking in the space he was signalling for outside the restaurant.

He’s fucking losing it until I get out of my car and he realizes who I am. I’m too fucking worked up to give him more than a nod. At this point, he’s making the right decision staying in his vehicle, cause I’m fucking seeing red.

I push through the door, ignoring the chime of the bell while I search out the quaint space formy girl.

The girl whose eyes flash wide when she sees me standing in the middle of the restaurant, watching her sit opposite the guy I warned her about.

My blood runs hot. My jaw clenches. The instant rush of anger clouds my judgment, and before I even think about it, I weave my way through the packed tables directly to them.

I don’t say shit. Simply take the seat next to her when she quietly scoots over in the booth they’re seated.

“Auguste,” she says, her voice a mixture of disbelief and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. Sounds a lot like chagrin… maybe even contrition because she knows I was right—bastard’s been making a play for her all along. “Jordan and I are just finishing up our brainstorming session for a… a… umm… the new segment on the training and equipment staff. Carolina’s replacing the thirst trap material with it…”

“I’ll drive you home,” I say, keeping my voice level.

Jordan clears his throat as Courtney nods. “We were about to go to the bar further down.”

Courtney shifts in her seat, not looking at me, her fingers wrapped around her glass like she’s trying to hold onto something. When I edge forward on the bench, her other hand slips under the table, gripping my thigh.

“We were supposed to meet Carolina,” she goes on, her eyes flicking between me and Jordan. “But she had a whole thing with Shayne and had to cancel.”

Jordan says nothing. Opting to use his smarts now.

I say nothing because every coherent thought in my head jumped ship when Courtney touched me. My hammering pulse is the only logic left in my body. Probably because it’s keeping me alive right now.

Jordan stands up fixing his cologne drenched clothes. “I’m gonna go pay and then we can leave.”

Courtney’s nails claw into my tense muscles.

The second he’s gone, she turns to me. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

In spite of her sharp tone, her voice is shaky and her hand is still clutching my thigh like she owns me.

She does.

Every goddamn inch of me.

“If you’re going on a secret date, maybe try a place half the fucking team don’t frequent,” I snap, my voice dropping low.

She freezes at my words, her face flickering with shock and anger. Then, almost too quickly, she fires back. “It’s not a fucking date.”

I take a breath, trying to calm the storm inside of me. There’s not a chance in hell of that happening.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open it up on the chat and show her the photo I haven’t looked at yet. And I didn’t need to because it’s exactly as the guys were talking about it.

Intimate.

“You’re not on a date?”

“No,” she answers quietly, thumb stroking my thigh.

“Sure as fuck looks like it.”

“It’s work.”

“Not to him.” I force my jaw to relax. “I know you’re pissed at me. You have every right to be, but I’m not going to sit back and let some guy make moves onmygirl while I’m here losing my mind over her.”

“Auguste,” Courtney leans in. Close enough that I can smell sweet strawberries on her breath.

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