Page 27 of Falling Offsides

“Aug—”

“Not every guy’s gonna fawn over you, Nilsson.” The remark tumbles out of my mouth, sounding like a scoff.

Her mouth opens. Closes.

Hurt flashes dark and stormy in her baby blues before she can hide it, and I hate myself instantly.

Still, I don’t take it back. I can’t. I won’t.

This is for the best.

I crossed a line yesterday. This morning. Now, I need to draw it again. And this time, I have to stay on one side and Courtney on the other.

I shove my hands in my pockets and stand still as stone while she finishes the shoot in silence.

Then she walks away without a word. Not a single glimpse back over her shoulder. None of the cutesy laughter she shared with Jordan while reviewing his shots.

And I let her. I let her because I’ve drawn a line between us and it’s staying put.

No matter what.

Confused.Disappointed. They’re the only words running through my thoughts. My only thought as I attempt to flick through the endless channels on my TV for a distraction.

There’s nothing that takes my mind off the way Courtney looked at me. Like I’d pulled the rug out from under her.

The worst part is that I did. I treated her abhorrently, and I know it. I know I was a dick. But it was necessary. Safer. Easier.

Still, none of that explains the way my chest tightens every time her expression plays back. Over and on repeat.

Courtney’s got me all kinds of fucked up.

That’s why I can’t stop myself from opening up my MacBook and going through all the Doggie-Cam links that Matheo has sent to the team chat over time.

One by one, until I have every single camera in the system, and I find her sitting in bed. The video is a little grainy. Lit by lamplight.

Her laptop is opened up in front of her, on a stack of books while she stares at her camera, cradled between her hands. I mess around with the settings on my screen until the image becomes sharper and I can hear her.

“This morning was… weird,” she says. “He was waiting outside my door. Like just… standing there.”

“Yeah, I remember that… you hung up on me…rude.”

Courtney ignores her friend’s jibe. “… just brooding like he belonged there…”

“Did you ask why he was there?”

“Yeah. He insisted on driving me to work, and then we stopped for coffee and…”

“And? Dude, you’re being so choosy with your words. Just tell me what happened already.”

“I dunno… he offered breakfast, I gave him a hard time…”

“Of course you did. What did he do?”

Courtney exhales sharply. “He called me a brat.”

A pause.

Her friend whistles. “Like, in ayou’re-being-difficultway? Or acall-me-daddyway?”

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