Page 111 of Offside Attraction

I glance at Hayes, raising an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, walking back to the desk and rummaging through the drawers. I try the chest in the corner again, tugging at its stubborn lock, but no luck. After a few minutes of aimless searching, I sigh, frustrated.

“This is going nowhere,” I mutter.

“Maybe because you’re overthinking it,” Hayes says, his tone sharp. “Try using your brain for once.”

I whip around, glaring at him. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he says, mirroring my glare. “You’re so busy trying to prove you’re smarter than me that you’re missing the obvious.”

I clench my fists, taking a deep breath to steady my voice. “You know what, Griffin? Why don’t you figure it out, since you’re clearly the genius here?”

“Gladly,” he shoots back, grabbing the flashlight from the desk and shining it under the furniture. “Just stand there and look pretty, Miller.”

The insult—if it even is one—makes my chest tighten in a way that makes me want to hit him in his pretty face. I grit my teeth, focusing on the room instead of his stupid smirk.

After another few minutes of searching in silence, I spot something odd about one of the framed photos on the wall. The glass is slightly loose, and when I lift the frame, I find a small compartment hidden behind it. Inside is a tiny, rusted key.

“Found it,” I say, holding it up.

Hayes walks over, his smirk softening into something closer to a grin. “Not bad, Miller. Maybe you’re not useless after all.”

I roll my eyes, handing him the key. “Just open the chest.”

He kneels down, unlocking the chest to reveal a map of the room with more symbols drawn on it. We study it together, leaning close as we trace the paths with our fingers. His shoulder brushes mine, and I try to ignore the heat that rises in my chest at the contact.

“Looks like the last clue is under the floorboards,” he says, glancing at me.

“And how do we get under the floorboards?” I ask.

He shrugs, his smirk returning. “Guess we’ll have to figure it out.”

Eventually, we find the last piece of the puzzle—a trapdoor hidden beneath a loose floorboard. Inside is a switch that unlocks the door, and the sound of the lock clicking open is more satisfying than I expected.

“We did it,” Hayes says, leaning against the doorframe. “Told you we’d make a good team.”

I scoff, brushing past him. “Don’t get used to it.”

He laughs softly, following me into the hallway. But even as we leave the room behind, I can’t shake the feeling that something between us shifted in there. For better or worse, I’m not sure.

Aftertheescaperoom,we stop by a small diner to grab something to eat. It sits tucked between two taller buildings in the middle of the city, a cozy little place with warm yellow lights glowing from the windows. The sign above the door readsFlip’s Dinerin faded red letters, and the faint smell of grilled burgers and fresh coffee drifts through the air as we step inside.

The place is quiet—only a handful of customers scattered between booths. The low hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes fills the space, calm and grounding after the chaos we just escaped.

Hayes doesn’t hesitate. He slides into a booth by the window like he’s been here a thousand times before, stretching out comfortably. I linger for half a second before sitting across from him, sinking into the worn vinyl seat and leaning back.

“Admit it,” he says, breaking the silence. “The escape room wasn’t that bad.”

I grab the napkin dispenser, fidgeting with it. “You mean the part where you insisted on solving everything by yourself and almost got us stuck?”

Hayes chuckles, leaning forward slightly. “We got out, didn’t we?”

“Barely,” I mutter. “And only becauseIfigured out the last clue while you were too busy showing off.”

“Details,” he shrugs, unbothered. “Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it.”