Page 15 of Offside and Off-Limits (Love in Maple Falls #2)

CADE

I’ve lit the fire and flicked on a few of the lamps in the living room when Clara’s car pulls into my driveway for our agreed time to film my “player talent.”

I’d noticed Asher’s rituals before practice, the way he always has to tap things a certain time, the way he does things in a certain order. I had a teammate in college who was exactly the same, and he’d told me that big life changes always made his symptoms that much worse.

I figured the amount of change Asher had been through in leaving his last team and moving to Maple Falls had probably gotten into his head.

And you know what? Although I didn’t plan it, in going to the support group tonight—heck, I didn’t even know Clara had a chronic condition, let alone the fact she attends a weekly support group here in town—it had a certain serendipity to it.

Not that I’d ever tell the guys that. The idea of a romantic serendipity is w aaaa y too rom-com-y.

Plus there’s the fact that Clara and I aren’t romantically involved.

Not yet anyway.

And yeah, I know that sounds pretty cocky. But I’ve seen the way she looks at me, the way her cheeks flush when I smile and flirt, the way the sight of my bare chest makes her go all fidgety and weird. She likes me. She’s attracted to me.

She just won’t admit it.

There’s a knock at the door, and I do a quick check that the room is tidy, shoving a pair of sneakers I threw off last night under one of the sofas with my foot.

Although the style of the house is completely different from my condo in Manhattan, the place came furnished with its quaint, small-town vibe, which is fitting, what with this house being in a small town and all.

Totally on brand , as my agent would say.

If I end up signing for another season or more, I’ll buy my own place and bring the rest of my stuff over from NYC.

But this will do for now.

As I pull the door open, a cold blast of air hits me, and I slide my eyes over Clara.

She’s still in her work clothes, totally rocking her pencil skirt and blouse, over which she’s thrown the winter coat I saw her in at the arena.

Her hair is captured in a low bun which, combined with the glasses she’s wearing, gives her that totally hot librarian vibe.

Not that she looks like any of the librarians I’ve ever known.

I imagine loosening her hair so that it falls around her shoulders, and gently removing her glasses before I lean in and?—

“Are we staying on the doorstep or are you going to invite me in?” she asks as she removes her glasses and slots them in a case.

I’m forced to shake myself out of my sexy librarian daydream. As fun as it was.

“Yeah. Sorry. Come on in.” I stand back for her, and she breezes past me, her pretty, floral scent following her. “Can I take your coat?”

She shrugs it off and passes it to me.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Just for driving and going to the movies. I see you’ve chosen to wear a shirt this time. That’s a good start.”

“I can take it off if you prefer?” I tease, fingering the bottom of my hoodie, and immediately she shakes her head, holding her hands up in the stop sign.

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

“The offer is always there, Triple. Just say the word.”

I watch as her cheeks grow pink. Man, I love it when they do that. It brings out the blue in her eyes, making them sparkle all the more. Not to mention the fact it reconfirms my hunch that she’s into me.

Not that she’d ever admit to that. Clara Johnson is proving to be one hard nut to crack.

I hang her coat on the rack and then lead her to the living room.

She looks around at the tan leather sofas and the fireplace with its now roaring fire.

The place is cozy, inviting, and warm. The temperature is still pretty mild here in Maple Falls during the day, but when it drops at night, it sure is good to get cozy by the fire.

“That didn’t used to be there,” she says as she points at the TV above the fireplace.

“You’ve been here before?”

“I grew up in Maple Falls. I’ve been to pretty much every house in town, even this one. It’s owned by the O’Connors. They invited everyone in the neighborhood over for coffee when they moved in. ”

“Bill and Jen. That’s right. Nice people.”

She nods, her lips pulled into a line. “Is that Bess?” she asks as she moves across to my baby grand.

Bess has pride of place near the french doors that open onto the generous yard, and I love to sit there and play early in the mornings when I don’t have practice, looking out the windows at the greenery.

“Yup, this is my baby.” I run a hand across Bess’s varnished wood. “A masterpiece in refinement and craftsmanship. She was handcrafted in Austria.”

“She?” she asks with a laugh. “Should I be impressed by that?”

“Oh, yeah. You should be. Bess is the best you can get.”

“A bosen-what? How do you pronounce that?” she asks, reading the gold lettering above the keys, and I smile at her pronunciation.

“Bosendorfer,” I say. “That’s the make. These pianos are known for their warm, rounded tone. Very resonant.”

She looks at me as though I’m speaking a foreign language. Either that or she’s surprised to hear such words fall from my mouth.

“I’ll take your word on that. We’ve got one of those upright pianos I bought from a secondhand place when Hannah began learning to play. It’s plain wood and sounds kinda clunky. This piano is definitely next level.” She lightly touches the keys.

“May I?” I ask.

“May you what?”

Instead of telling her, I slide my hand over hers and depress her thumb, then middle finger, and then her pinkie, and a chord sounds out. “Hear that? That’s the resonance.” Her hand is small beneath mine, the touch of her skin as soft as I’d thought it would be.

She lifts her lips in a nervous smile, and I know I’ve overstepped the mark.

I pull my hand away. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was instinct. ”

“It’s fine. Really,” she replies, clasping her hands together. “When do I get to hear you play?”

“All good things take time, you know, Triple,” I reply, slipping easily back into playful default mode. “But first, let’s eat. I’m starving. You?”

“I can have something quick. I need to go pick up the kids after filming.”

“Where is my comic book buddy tonight?”

“He and his sister are with their aunt and uncle. They’ll be spoiling them rotten.”

“Of course they will. That’s their job.”

“You know about these things?”

“Got my uncle badge, and proud of it. My sister, Tori, and her husband have twins. Oliver and Olivia. I see them when I can.”

“Where are they?”

“Back in the New Jersey town I grew up in. They live a couple streets over from my mom.”

By now we’ve reached the kitchen, where she takes a seat on one of the stools, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter.

I pull a packet from the refrigerator. “I’ve got some fresh pasta. I could make a sauce.”

“You cook?”

I waggle my brows at her suggestively. “I’m a man of many talents, Triple.”

She shakes her head at me, but she’s smiling, not frowning.

“What?” I say.

“You just don’t quit, do you?” There’s a lightness to her voice that wasn’t there before.

“Not when it comes to beautiful social media managers for the Ice Breakers,” I tease. “Do you want a soda? I’d offer you wine, but I don’t drink during preseason or the season.”

“A soda’s great.”

I pull a couple of cans from the refrigerator, and we both crack them open.

“Here’s to Chronic Warriors,” I say .

“To the Chronic Warriors,” she echoes, and we clink cans before we both take a sip. Placing her can on the counter, she says, “Tell me about your mom. You said she has lupus. That must be tough.”

I get to work on making the pasta sauce, chopping up some pancetta.

“It's not easy for her. It took seven years before she was diagnosed and her symptoms kept getting dismissed by multiple doctors, telling her she just needed to reduce stress, whatever that means.

That was going on when I was a senior in high school and right through college.

She finally got diagnosed after she had a severe flare up that even the stupid doctors couldn't ignore.”

“Bernice talks about how long it can take to get a diagnosis for a bunch of autoimmune disorders. It can be years and years.”

“Yup, that's what happened with my mom. She was diagnosed just before I got signed with the Blades. I chose them because it was close to her in New Jersey. It meant I could check in with her or get to her fast if she needed me.”

The guilt in leaving her on the other side of the country to join the Ice Breakers twists in my belly.

I've never lived this far away from my mom. Although she's doing better now and she has my sister nearby, there’s a part of me that still thinks I should never have left, even though she’s excited at the chance to move here if things pan out.

She’s the reason I didn’t sign for more than one season. If Tori is finding it too much, if my mom has a serious setback, I can get back there.

“You're a long way from her here in Washington state,” Clara says, as though reading my mind.

“She insisted I go. She's so concerned with not being a burden, sometimes it drives me crazy, you know? I try to get her the best doctors, the best care, but sometimes it's hard to get her to take it. She is one stubborn woman.”

Her eyes flash to mine. “A little like her son?”

“What makes you say that? ”

“I’ve seen you at practice. You really push yourself in those drills. You refuse to give up.”

“Had to. Coach’s instructions.”

She smiles. “For what it’s worth, Cade, it sounds to me as though you’re a great son. You wouldn’t have come to the support group tonight if you weren’t.”

“I don't know,” I say, that guilt still heavy in my stomach. “If Tori wasn’t around, I wouldn't be here.”

“You’ve got to live your life, too.”

“I guess.”