Page 22 of Offside Secrets
“Clearly,” I tease, leaning closer to inspect. “I like the mountain range, but what’s this one?” I point to the design curling along his forearm.
“Ah, that’s a compass.” He follows my finger with his eyes and pushes his shirtsleeve higher so I can inspect.
“A compass?” I echo, genuinely intrigued. “Is it, like a ‘stay on course’ kind of thing, or did you simply pick out a cool design?”
He shrugs, looking slightly sheepish. “It’s to remind me that I’m always going to be trying to find my direction. Life, goals. Stuff like that.”
I smile softly, brushing my thumb over the edge of the ink. “I’ve always wanted one,” I admit, half to myself, half to him. “Never found anything that felt right.”
Campbell holds my gaze a beat longer than necessary, and I can feel the air between us thicken. There’s a warmth in his eyes that makes my chest flutter, and for a moment, I forget how cold the night air is—or that we’re surrounded by a small crowd of people milling about outside a local bar.
He tilts his head, just slightly, the corner of that grin tugging at his lips again, and my pulse ticks up. “You know,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “inspiration comes in funny forms.”
I bite back a smile, leaning just a fraction closer, drawn in by the subtle heat radiating off him. “Funny, huh?” I tease, trying to keep my tone light, even as my stomach twists into a delicious knot.
That’s when he takes a half-step closer so the gap betweenus shrinks. “Some people don’t even realize it when it finds them.”
I fight to keep my eyes from drifting down to his lips. I think my mind wages an internal war for half a second too long before the spark in my chest flames higher. “Maybe I’m just waiting for it, then,” I say softly, letting the words hang in the night air. “It might have to slap me in the face.”
He chuckles, a low sound that makes my skin prickle. “Could be,” he says, and holds my gaze as if daring me to test it.
There’s that saying, “like a moth to the flame,” and right now it’s on repeat in my head and yelling at the voice that’s telling me I need to walk away. I give Campbell a quick nod of my head and start to turn, reaching for Elle’s elbow. “Well, we should get going,” I announce, glancing around the street.
Elle nods quickly, giving Sawyer a fist bump. “I’m ready, you two behave and I’ll see you on the ice in the morning,” she calls out, and falls in step like she’s ready to follow, so I launch into my mini rant, assuming she’s all ears.
“Like I was saying, the gala is going to be a madhouse. I don’t even know how I’m going to keep the board from tearing me apart before the hors d’oeuvres are even served,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward the lights of the nearby venue.
Elle hums sympathetically, “Sounds intense.”
I keep walking, feeling emboldened. “Intense is an understatement. And the media frenzy? Ugh. Someone’s going to spin my every word, every step, and I was happy Gavin would be with me. I need a partner in crime. Someone to make sure I don’t completely humiliate myself in front of the entire city.”
Elle chuckles softly. “Well, I can’t exactly go in your place, but I can offer moral support.”
I grin, pressing on, completely forgetting she’s a step behind. “Moral support is great, but I need a plus-one—someone to shut down the media spin for once. And,honestly, it’d be nice not to walk into that circus alone. Especially with Victor sniffing around, probably plotting his seating strategy as we speak?—”
Before I can finish, Campbell’s voice cuts in, smooth and low.
“I’ll go with you.”
I whip my head toward him. He’s watching me with that infuriatingly calm expression, the one that makes it impossible to tell if he’s serious. Then the corner of his mouth tips up into that trademark grin of his.
“Are you following us?” I accuse him, not without hoping, a little, that maybe he was.
But when he holds out my scarf, I realize why. “You dropped this.”
“Thanks,” I say sheepishly as I accept it.
“I’ll go with you to the gala,” he repeats.
“You? At the gala?” My pulse jumps. I look around for Elle, hoping she’ll cut in and help me out, but she’s doubled back and talking to Sawyer again for some reason. Great wingman that one is. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?” He shrugs like it’s the simplest solution in the world. “You need a plus-one. I’m offering.”
“It’s tomorrow,” I protest. “And you’d need a suit. Like a tux.”
“A suit?” Campbell’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like the ones we wear on game day? I think I have it covered.”
This man. My gaze locks with his, and for a moment, the noise and hubbub surrounding us fades into nothing. Those eyes of his, that stare…it can pull me right in like nobody’s business. It’s less a stare and more a full-on abduction. I should probably file a complaint, but here I am, not resisting.
