Page 19 of Falling Offsides

I rake my eyes over her body, taking in the oversized shirt pooled at the top of her thighs with the way her feet are up on the back of the couch. Meanwhile her arms are cuddling her iPad to her chest…fucking adorable.

“No. Hell no.” I kill the stream, drop my phone to my chest and stare up at my ceiling.

I make it to twenty-three seconds in my head before I pick my phone up again.

My finger hovers. My mind races.

“Just making doubly sure.”

Better safe than sorry. Right?

Switching off the TV, I send the link to my MacBook, set it up on my bedside table, and pull the screen just enough that I can see her properly when I zoom in.

Not the whole feed. Just her silhouette.

Then before I settle back into my pillow, I activate myDo Not Disturband place my phone on charge.

That same buzz from earlier crackles in the air. The static sparking a thrill unlike any other I’ve felt through me.

It takes almost an hour for my heart to fall back into a steady rhythm. The whole time I watch the screen. The whole time I focus on the rise and fall of her chest, the up and down of the iPad.

It’s like that my breathing evens out. My thoughts start to haze, and I fall asleep.

I fall asleep watching her breathe.

I wokeup to a black screen. With all the bullshit last night, I forgot to plug my MacBook in when I set it on my bedside table.

Courtney was the first thought that popped into my head when my alarm went off. After I found my laptop dead, I checked my phone. Only to find the couch empty. Blanket folded. iPad on the coffee table along with her over-ear headphones.

With the link being only for that one camera, it’s not like I could look for her in the others, and that’s got my chest all kinds of tight.

Checking my watch again, I decide to give Courtney another ten orso minutes before I knock. It’s only just gone seven in the morning, I’m certain she shouldn’t be contemplating going to work today, but the little I got to know of her yesterday, I’m certain she’ll be hauling ass.

A smile tugs at my lips at the thought. I like that she’s tenacious and fiery. A go-getter.

So, that leaves me right where I’ve been the last hour or so. Standing in the hallway outside her apartment. Hood up. Hands in my pockets. Staring at her door like it’s going to open on its own.

FYI: It doesn’t.

Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing.

No, that’s a lie. I do know what I’m doing. I’m waiting.

It’s the morning after the day before. The day I knocked Coach’s daughter out with a stray puck. The day after I drove her home, walked her to her door, and watched her disappear inside.

The day after I told myself not to cross a line, then crossed it anyway when I logged into Matheo’s old doggie cams.

Just to check.

Just to be sure.

That’s what I told myself. What I’m still telling myself.

Another lie.

Because it wasn’t just about her safety.

It’s her.

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