Page 70 of Falling Offsides

My breaths are ragged, the sound filling the cab in lieu of her music, as I find her hand on Sammy’s back and grip it with mine. Tight.

Courtney lets out a soft breath, still stroking Samson’s head with her other hand, and we ride in silence like this.

We’re driving past the pier close to our place when she finally pulls her hand out of mine. Kissing the top of Samson’s head with a lingering hitch to her breath.

I instantly know what’s coming. What that kiss means.

He licks her again, whining because he knows too.

My throat burns.

When we finally pull up outside the building, she shifts like she’s preparing herself for something big.

And then, quiet and small, she says, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore.”

I freeze. Because even knowing what was coming from the shift in her demeanor, the words smash through me like a runaway freight train.

“Do what?” I manage, even though the words scrape up my throat like glass.

“This.” She waves a hand between us. “The coffee. The rides. The—” Courtney clears her throat. “—you waiting outside like… like this is normal.”

Her voice cracks on the last word like it cost her everything just to say it. She swallows down the warbling waterfall, fast and fierce.

“I can make my own breakfast,” she says, her voice firmer now.

Who is she trying to convince me or herself?

“I can Uber to work. I don’t need—” Courtney cuts herself off. Shakes her head. “I don’t need this.”

I grip the wheel tighter. Anchoring myself against the need to reach for her. To grab her wrist.

To beg.

Because I’d do it for her. That’s how fucked up and hooked she’s got me on her.

Court hugs Sammy closer, burying her face in his fur again. Hiding from me. Hiding from whatever the hell this is between us. Attraction, lust, obsession…

I don't speak. Simply sit here, feeling like the floor’s fallen out beneath me. Like somehow I made it to heaven and now I’m plummeting back down, through earth, straight to hell.

Courtney moves first.

Fast.

Sharp.

As if she’s scared if she hesitates, she’ll change her mind, she sets Samson down on my lap. Then she opens the door and steps out into the thick late afternoon air.

Her tote slips off her shoulder and as she catches it with a soft curse under her breath, she pauses next to the open door.

Fuck, she doesn’t even give me one last look. Not one last chance, a moment to lose myself in her breathtaking, bottomless ocean eyes.

Even though everything in me screams not to say anything. Not to be the asshole she needs me not to be. I can’t help myself.

I force my voice to stay calm, grounded, and I lean over, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other holding Samson to me as I speak low—right into the stretch of air between us.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Courtney freezes. Trembling hand clenching tighter on her bag strap.