Page 122 of Falling Offsides

Because it’s what this is, right?

Court’s jealous because she doesn’t trust me anymore. Because I didn’t think of what my choices would do to her until after the fact.

With a deep inhale, I knock on her door and count to ten before I do it again—louder this time so that I know she can hear it in the living area. This time I count to twenty, resisting the urge to go back into my apartment and grab my phone. I could talk to her through the doggie cams, Matheo used to do it all the time.

It feels counter intuitive though. Too soon.

This time I ring the doorbell. The obnoxious tone that Matheo chose echoes through the door.

After it ends there’s a drag of silence before I hear the quiet shuffle on the other side. Samson hears it too because he’s nosing and sniffing loudly at the bottom of the door. His impatient grunts pull a huffy laugh from behind it and my chest fucking flutters at the sound.

“Court…” I say, pushing the side of my face to the cool wood.

“Go away, Auguste,” she sniffles back.

“I’m not gonna do that, Princess.”

Another sniffle. “Just… please…”

“You don’t get to cry alone, remember?” Lowering myself to the floor, I sit with my back to her door, my ear still pressed to it. “Even if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna stay right here.”

Samson yaps in agreement sitting up straight between my spread legs. His droopy jowl in a grumpy set.

“Do you remember what I told you at the bar? That I couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching you. How it fucking hollows me out?”

“What about it?” She asks eventually.

“The thought of another man touching you drives me so damn mad because I want to be the one touching you. Theonlyone near you… breathing your air all the goddamn time. I see red because I get jealous of anyone else that gets any part of you.”

“Why?” There’s another sniffle, followed by a shuffle.

I can picture Courtney leaning into the door, closer to me, to my voice as I tell her, “I want every part of you, Courtney. Every last little bit that makes you who you are.”

An audible swallow is followed by a long sigh. Court stays quiet. I say nothing more than I already have. We’re both sitting in silence forthe longest while. My breaths cut through my lungs with each second that passes and I dig my fingertips a tad deeper into Samson’s loose skin while he licks my arm in response.

It’s forever when there’s movement. Samson’s ears perk along with my pulse. Then the door opens and I almost fall back into Courtney’s legs. My ass is so numb from sitting on the cold stone floor that I can’t get up. Instead, I twist onto my knees while Samson scurries through the threshold.

Courtney steps forward. Her blue tennis shoes come into view, putting my sole focus on her when I trail my stare up her shapely legs. Pausing at the hem of her white dress where her thighs fill out. So fucking perfect that I can’t think past the memory of how they felt wrapped around me, straddling me on her couch.

Saliva pools in my mouth when she rubs them together, her hands balling the light cotton fabric tight… a tad higher.

Man, it takes everything for me not to hug the fuck out of her legs. Not to bury my face in her smooth skin. Breathe in every goddamn nuance of her scent until it is all I can smell, permanently burnished in my senses.

Lifting my eyes up her body, I find her tear-swollen gaze. So red that her baby blues take on a lavender haze.

Fuck.

Every thought goes out of the window. Replaced by a crushing heaviness that chokes me from the inside out.

“Don’t.” Courtney hiccups between throaty breaths. “Don’t look at me. I’m a mess.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyes fall to her ankles, focussing on her white socks and the delicate gold chains wrapped around her left ankle. “I’m so sorry, Court.”

It’s so fitting that I’m down on my knees. That there isn’t enough strength in my whole fucking body to lift me to my feet with the evidence of the hurt I’ve caused streaked down her pretty face.

When I lift my eyes back to hers, she’s watching me intently. Trepidation trembling in her hands as they hover by my shoulders.

“Stop.” They press over my face, covering my eyes. “I’m all ugly and blotchy and?—”

---