Page 25 of Offside and Off-Limits (Love in Maple Falls #2)

CLARA

My head is full of Cade. The way he stepped up to do the Drench for Defense without a second thought, for me and for the town.

The self-deprecating T-shirts he had made for himself and the other guys, poking fun at their tough guy hockey personas and making the town laugh.

The softness in his gaze as he looked at me before my sister stepped forward to douse him with water.

And yes, the way he looked in his wet T-shirt, all muscular and strong, his confident smile never wavering.

I pull out my phone and tap out a message to Bailey.

Me:

I’ve made a decision.

Bailey:

Is this about your complicated love triangle?

Me:

I'm breaking things off with Warrior. He’s been great, but I want real. I want now. And somehow, real and now look a whole lot like someone else.

My phone begins to ring in my hand and I press “answer.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my cautious friend?” Bailey asks.

“I guess I got beyond liking him from a distance. I know this may sound corny, but it’s true. Cade makes me feel seen for the first time in years.”

“You’re falling for him?”

“I don’t know how we’ll make it work, but I want to at least try. I’m tired of being scared of everything going wrong, Bailey. What if it actually goes right?”

“And the non-fraternization clause?”

“I’ll deal with that,” I say, sounding a hundred times more confident than I feel.

“Then you, my dear, will have one heck of a story to tell. Now go get your man.”

I feel giddy at the thought. “I need to tell Warrior first.”

“That’s the right thing to do. Good luck. Love you loads.”

“Love you loads, too.”

I lean back against my sofa, warmth and calmness spreading across my chest and wrapping me up in an embrace.

Falling for Cade Lennox is the gift I never knew I needed, and now that I know how I feel about him with total clarity, there are some things I’ve got to do before I can take things with him to the next level .

I pull up the app on my phone and go to my most recent chat with Warrior. I read the last message from him, guilt worming its way across my chest. “You have come to mean so much to me,” I read. “I can't imagine having gone through this without you.”

I take a breath, my thumbs poised over the keyboard. I know what I have to do. I know I'm about to hurt Warrior. But my conscience won't allow me not to do this. I'm falling for another man, and Warrior deserves the truth from me. I tap out a one-word message.

Me:

Hi

I stare at the screen, my insides in knots, waiting.

ChronicWarrior88:

I'm so happy to hear from you. It's been days! Are you okay? Have you had a relapse? Please say you haven't.

That worm of guilt coils its way around through me and tightens its grip.

Me:

I'm fine. You're so sweet to ask. But I do need to tell you something, and in truth, I've been putting it off like a coward. It's time to step up.

ChronicWarrior88:

What is it? You know you can tell me anything.

I tap out the words I know I need to say. You have been such an important part of my life these past few months, and I'm so glad that I've met you. But the fact of the matter is I'm falling for another man, and I thought you should know.

I'm about to press send when another message pops up on my screen.

ChronicWarrior88:

I'm in Maple Falls and I thought I would come by and surprise you.

Wait, what? My heart leaps into my mouth. Warrior’s in Maple Falls?

ChronicWarrior88:

Can we meet?

I chew on my lip, my mind whirring. Meeting him to end things would be the right thing to do. In fact, it's probably the only thing to do now.

Me:

Let's meet at Shirley May’s Diner in thirty minutes. It's on Main Street.

There's a knock on the door, making me jerk back from my phone.

“I’ll get it!” Benny yells from down the hall, and I click my phone off and follow him.

Benny pulls the door open to reveal his dad, standing on the doorstep, flowers in hand. He stands there like no time has passed with the same smug half-smile, wearing the same jacket I used to steal when I was cold.

My heart doesn’t flutter anymore at the sight of my ex-husband. It hasn’t for a long time. Rather, it clenches, my jaw tightening.

“Daddy!” Benny calls out as he leaps into his father’s arms.

“Woah!” Dwayne responds, balancing the flowers and his son.

I pull my brows together in confusion. “Dwayne, what are you doing here? It’s not your weekend.”

He plants a kiss on Benny’s check and then sets him on the floor. “These are for you,” he says, thrusting the flowers at me.

More out of reflex than anything, I take them .

“They’re your favorite,” he tells me.

I look down at the bunch of white roses. They were never my favorite, but Dwayne never bothered to learn that.

I don’t point it out. There’s no point in being petty.

“Thank you,” I say through tight lips.

Hannah darts into the hallway and immediately throws herself at her father. “Daddy!”

“How are you, sweetheart?” Dwayne plants a kiss on Hannah’s cheek.

“What are you doing here, Dwayne?” I repeat.

“I was in town for work and stayed over last night. Hey, I caught the Drench for Defense thing. You were filming for your new job, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Anyway, I thought I’d pop by to see my favorite people.”

His favorite people? Didn’t he give up that position when he walked out on us all those years ago?

Dwayne produces a lollipop for each of our kids, and they grab them gleefully.

“Thanks, Daddy,” they both say.

“Why don’t you two go to the playroom and I’ll be down there soon? I need to talk with your mommy first.”

The kids take off excitedly, dropping the lollipop wrappers on the floor, leaving the two of us in the hallway. I pick up the wrappers and turn and walk into the living room, where I offer him a seat, placing the white roses on the coffee table.

“What is it, Dwayne?” I ask without preamble.

“Come on, Clars,” he says, using his old nickname for me. “We’re both adults. We can talk amicably, can’t we?”

I force the tension in my shoulders to ease. “Of course. Sorry. I was in the middle of something when you got here and I wasn’t expecting you. That’s all.”

His lips lift into the smile I once fell for when I was a na?ve nineteen-year-old, away from home at college, his confidence and good looks pulling me in from the moment I laid eyes on him.

To my surprise, he reaches for my hand. “May I?”

“You want to hold hands with me?” I ask, incredulous. This is the man who’s barely spoken a civil word to me for years, the man who only turns up every month or two to see his kids, despite the divorce agreement that allowed him a weekend every fortnight.

“Is that so wrong? You’re the mother of my children, Clars, the woman I should never have left.”

I blink at him in shock. “What did you just say?” I ask, my voice like a thin reed.

He collects my hand in his. “Look. I made mistakes when you got sick. I was scared, and I didn't know how to help you. But I've grown, I've changed.”

I look down at my hand in his like it’s not a part of me, totally disassociated from the rest of my body.

“I need to tell you something,” he continues.

Warily, I look back at him. “I’m still dealing with the first thing you said, Dwayne.”

“Look, I knew if I reached out as me, you'd never give me a chance. But we connected so well once more. That was the real us, without all the baggage.”

Connected so well once more ? What the heck is he talking about?

“Dwayne, you’re not making any sense.”

His smile spreads, the look in his eyes telling me he’s in on some great secret he has yet to share.

“Can we sit?” he asks, and I nod, immediately pulling my hand from his and taking a seat on one of the sofas.

I fully expect him to sit opposite me, but instead he lowers himself onto the seat cushion beside me, our thighs merely inches apart.

I swallow, my back stiffening. “You’re acting weird. What’s going on?” I demand .

“May I?” he asks, holding out his hand once more.

I give a tight head shake, pressing my lips together.

“Tell me about Warrior.”

I recoil from him in shock, my pulse jumping. “How do you know about Warrior?”

That grin of his doesn’t falter for a second. “As I said, I knew if I reached out to you as me, you’d never have given me a chance. But as Warrior, you opened up. You let me back in.”

My jaw slackens as my mind races faster than a Formula 1 race car. Dwayne is Warrior? Warrior is Dwayne? My ex-husband has been masquerading as someone with CFS, someone who I formed what I had thought was a close, genuine relationship with online?

I blink at him in utter shock. “You’re Warrior?

” Dismay shortens my breath as I scramble to align the radically different people in my mind.

Dwayne, my ex-husband, who cheated on me with someone who I thought was my friend , and then left me and the kids.

A man who barrels through life, never thinking of anyone but himself.

And Warrior, the sweet, thoughtful man with chronic fatigue, who brought a sense of calm to my world, giving me an outlet, both of us mutually supportive.

Only it was all a lie.

Dwayne doesn’t have CFS. Dwayne isn’t a sweet and tender person who brings a sense of calm to my life.

Those two people could not be more different.

“I know this is a lot to take, but can’t you see what this means? You and me, Clars. We’re meant to be together, our connection online these past months is all the proof we needed. You didn’t even know it was me and you fell for me, all over again.”

He scoots closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It’s over with Izzy, Clars. Done with. I left her. And it’s because of you. You and me? We’re made for each other. Can’t you see that?”

Thoughts are still flying around in my head like I'm taking corners at 200 mph with no brakes as I wrangle with understanding the depth of his concealment, his manipulation, his sheer gall.

Finally, I find my voice.

“Dwayne, please get your hand off of me,” I say levelly, my jaw tight, my body as rigid as a plank of wood.