Page 136 of Falling Offsides

Completely reckless on my part. Yet the more he gives, the deeper he kisses me—tongue licking over mine, teeth pulling at my lip when he sucks it into his mouth—I allow myself to take. To give back. To savor and luxuriate in the intensity of his heated emotions pounding into my chest from his.

“Sorry we’re late!” A woman’s voice sings out.

Auguste holds me tighter when I leap out of my skin.

“Stay,” he murmurs into my hair, his hands on my waist spinning me to face his entire family.

I’m faced with his parents… siblings… nephews… and when I stiffen at the sight of all eyes on us, Auguste wraps a protective arm around me.

His lips press a hard kiss to the top of my head at the same time as my ass backs into his unmistakable erection.

Oh.

This is awkward. Right?

I think it is… or it’s meant to be—they look like a family straight out of a glossy lifestyle shoot—but they’re also easy.

Easy joining Auguste and I by the table. Smiling at me like this isn’t the first time they’ve met me.

“You must be Courtney,” his father says, hands bracketing my shoulders before he kisses each of my cheeks.

“My dad, Edouard,” Auguste whispers in my ear.

“Everyone calls me Eddie.” His dad winks at me, moving sideways to awkwardly hug Auguste.

“Hi, I’m Marley. Étienne’s wife.” A tall woman shuffles in front of me. Her hands are holding her small bump as she takes me in, broad smile bracketed by the deepest dimples and brown eyes gleaming excitedly when she leans in to hug me. “Finally, Auggie’s brought a date.”

“Not a date, Marley,” Rina calls from behind her. Each of her grandsons are perched on either side of her waist. “They’re friends.”

“Yeah, the dancing was totally friendly,” the man standing beside her chuffs.

An older carbon copy of Auguste with cropped hair and slightly darker skin. His eyes are just as bright and filled with hidden mischief, though.

However, mischief isn’t what’s playing on his face when he comes forward, and unlike his father or his wife, he shakes my hand.

“Courtney Nilsson,” he enunciates every syllable of my name like he’s decoding me.

“Étty,” Auguste warns, arm tightening around me.

“Auggie.”

“I’m sorry about him, he missed his afternoon nap… and now—” Marley elbows Étienne in the ribs. “—he’s a total grump. Worse than our toddlers.”

“Hello again, sweetie.” Sabrina nudges past the couple in front of me. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“This is Elliot,” she hitches a twin on one hip and then the other, “and this is Ethan.”

“Hi.” I wave at the twin boys, hands in their grandma’s hair.

“And I’m Sabine,” the girl from the elevator waves at me behind everyone. “We met already… and I’m glad that Auggie’s stopped pining and made a move.”

“Jesus Christ,” Auguste groans behind me. “Can we just get some room, please?”

When everyone gawks at us in reply, he takes my hand and guides us to our seats. I’ve never experienced anything like this, and a part of me feels giddy, the other keeps thinking back to Étienne’s assessing stare, the way he said my name…

“I’m sorry about them.” Auguste leans in with a whisper.