Page 107 of Offside Attraction

I hesitate, my fingers tapping against the desk. “Like he knows something I don’t,” I admit quietly. “Like he’s always one step ahead.”

Seth studies me for a moment before leaning back in his chair. “Maybe he’s just trying to figure you out. Or maybe… he already has.”

I shake my head, scoffing. “Don’t start with that, Seth.”

“I’m just saying,” he says with a shrug. “You and Hayes have this… thing. It’s obvious, even if you won’t admit it.”

“There’s no ‘thing,’” I say firmly, though my chest tightens at the words. “He’s just a pain in my ass. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Seth says, clearly unconvinced. “Well, good luck tomorrow. If you survive the day without murdering him, I’ll be impressed.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I say dryly, but a small smile tugs at my lips despite myself.

“Anytime,” Seth replies, his grin returning. “Just call me if you need to vent—or if you need help burying a body.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Noted.”

As we end the call, the weight in my chest feels a little lighter. But even as I close the laptop and get ready for bed, Seth’s words linger in my mind, and I hate that a small part of me wonders if he’s right.

CHAPTER 28

“Thankyou,Mrs.Turner.These taste really good,” I hear a familiar voice from the kitchen, followed by my mother’s giggles.

I freeze, my hand slamming my laptop shut as I glance at the small clock on my nightstand. 9:40 A.M.

He’s here.

That voice—it’s unmistakable. My stomach twists as I slowly stand, the sound of my mother’s laughter echoing down the hallway. She doesn’t giggle like that unless she’s genuinely charmed, and there’s only one person who could manage to do that while simultaneously driving me insane.

Hayes Griffin.

I walk out of my room, my steps measured, as I approach the kitchen. Sure enough, there he is, sitting casually at the kitchen table dressed in black jeans, a black shirt, matched with a dark blue denim jacket. Even dressed in something as simpleas that, this asshole still looks impossibly attractive. I can smell his cologne from where I’m standing, taking up the space of the living room and the kitchen.

Hayes leans back in the chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, his other hand holding a glass of milk. His head tilts slightly as he listens to my mom, that signature smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. It’s infuriating, how at ease he looks—like he owns the place, like he belongs here.

I stand in the kitchen doorway, taking in this arrogant but beautiful boy, as I fight the urge to drag him out of my house. He’s flashing that disarming smile of his, the one that makes people forget he’s a walking disaster of arrogance and irritation.

“Thank you, Mrs. Turner,” he says, lifting a plate with what looks like one of Mom’s homemade brownies. “You’re seriously the best. These are amazing.”

Mom laughs again, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Oh, Hayes, you’re too kind. But thank you. It’s nice to know someone appreciates my baking.”

I step into the kitchen, my jaw tightening. His gaze flicks toward me almost immediately, like he could sense my presence before I even entered the room. His smirk deepens when our eyes meet, and I swear I see a flicker of amusement there, like he’s been waiting for this moment. For a brief moment, our eyes are locked together, and slowly the smirk on his face fades, replaced by something else—something deeper, more intense.

The air between us shifts, thickening with unspoken tension that neither of us dared to acknowledge. It isn't anger, not entirely, but it isn't anything soft either. It is charged, electric, like the kind of silence that follows a lightning strike.

Slowly, Hayes shifts his gaze only to run it down my body. My breath catches, my chest tightening as I try to look away, but I can’t. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

The air between us feels suffocating, heavy with an intensity I can’t ignore. Hayes’ gaze lingers, dark and deliberate, like he’s peeling back layers I didn’t even realize I was wearing. It’s not just a glance—it’s a challenge, a test, as if he’s daring me to flinch, to look away first.

I can’t. I don’t.

My breath stutters, my pulse racing as the corner of his mouth twitches, the faintest hint of a smirk threatening to surface as he looks away. “Dakota, honey. Hayes here is just telling me how you boys will be heading out together to do hockey stuff.”

“Is that so?” I ask, shifting my gaze to Hayes who’s still wearing that insufferable grin of his.

“Yeah,” Hayes says, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place. “Coach thought it’d be good for us to spend some quality time together. You know, team bonding and all that.”

His grin widens as he glances at me, and I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes, like he’s enjoying every second of this.