Page 174 of Falling Offsides
I’m so tired, I drag myself out of the water and sit on the edge of the sun bed, curled up in a towel that’s too small to shield me from the cooling evening breeze.
There are no distractions left as I look out at the city in the near distance. Lights twinkling to life here and there.
In my head, my mother’s words roll around.
You don’t know what that life did to me.
She acts like hockey ruined our family, but I’m not sure I believe it anymore. The longer I spend here, I’m not sure that’s true at all.
And somewhere deep in the hollowed-out parts of me,that’swhat scares me most. That maybe I likethislife too much. The people, the chaos, the adrenaline… the family I’ve found again.
The sound of quick, heavy footsteps grabs my attention. My heart instantly patters in time to the familiar tread.
Auguste’s curls peek from the bottom of the glass balustrade as he jogs up the stairs to the pool area.
Showing up when I need him. Again.
Auguste drops down onto the lounger beside me, a pint of my favorite oat milk ice cream in one hand and in the other a couple cans of Frutee cream soda, his favorite.
He presses a kiss to my temple. Just one. Warm and steadying. Right before he takes off his oversized hoodie and wraps it around me along with his muscular arm.
“Mmm… you smell good, Princess.” Auguste kisses the top of my head before pulling the hood over it.
“I smell like chlorine.”
“Exactly, better than the dingy smell of the community rink changing rooms.” With a tired sigh he adds, “I always forget how exhausting skating with the kids is. They eat up every single second we’re there like it’s the best part of their lives.”
“A lot of those kids probably don’t have a lot going for them…”
“It’s my favorite extracurricular. Well, my second now,” he chuckles, canting his face in front of mine with a waggle of his brows.
Auguste offers me the ice cream carton, and when I take it, he produces two disposable wooden spoons from the pocket of the hoodie.
My thumbs pop off the lid, and I blink down at the creamy swirls. “Chocolate almond butter?”
“Your favorite.”
“This is dangerously close to love, you know?” I tease, choking on my choice of words.
The corner of his mouth lifts with his wordless reply. And for a moment, the quiet is soft and perfect. Exactly what I needed since my mother’s call earlier.
We eat spoonfuls of dessert, fighting over the chocolate fudge and salted caramel swirls sweetening the oat cream and almond butter. It’s the perfect marriage of flavors along with the cream soda. The dinner I needed.
“Sooo…” he starts.
“Oh no. Please don’t. That word is triggering me so bad right now.”
“Jayden said you were upset when you left the facility earlier.” Auguste scoops up a large puddle of chocolate, caramel, and almond butter and after sucking half of it off the spoon he offers me the other half. “Wanna talk about it?”
I’m about to say no when the urge to pangs in my chest.
“My mom called me this afternoon.”
“She did?” Hope brackets his full lips. “How did it go?”
“Aside from her asking me to sign my half of our house over to her… poorly.”
“What?” Auguste drops his spoon back in the cartoon, next to mine.
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