Page 58 of Offside Attraction

“Why do I have a feeling you’re the one who’s scared, Hayes?” I tilt my head, one eyebrow raised. “It’s a dare. And I’m not backing down.”

Hayes watches me with that smug grin, like he knowsexactlyhow to get under my skin—which he does.

“Looking forward to it,” he says, voice low and smooth. “I’ll be watching. Don’t disappoint me.”

I slam my locker shut and glare at him, jaw clenched. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

For a beat, we just stand there. The tension between us is thick, suffocating. His eyes flicker, amusement still curled at the corners of his lips. He’s enjoying this—every second of it.Enjoying the fact that he can push me this easily, that I always rise to the bait.

Hayes leans in slightly, close enough that his voice drops to a near whisper.

“The last thing we both want is you making a fool of yourself in front of the team you’ve been trying so desperately to impress,” he murmurs. “Now, that wouldn’t be nice… would it?”

His breath brushes my cheek. My heart kicks hard against my ribs, traitorous and fast.

Then he straightens.

And walks away.

I’m left standing there, pulse racing for reasons I don’t want to name. I hate him—God, I do—but I can’t deny that part of me is always braced for this. Always waiting for these moments where we collide, where I’m forced to face the fact that Hayes Griffin isn’t just a thorn in my side.

My chest feels tight.

The only thing I know for sure is that I hate him. I hate him more than I hate anything.

But there’s something else beneath that hatred. Something ugly. Something stubborn. Something I can’t shake no matter how hard I try.

“Man, fuck this shit,” I mutter, slamming my fist into my locker.

Pain flares through my knuckles, sharp and immediate—but it barely registers. It’s easier to focus on that than the confusion twisting inside me.

I shake out my hand, curling my fingers into a fist before forcing them to relax. How do I always fall for his games? I’ve known that prick since we were ten, and somehow he still gets under my skin every single time.

The way he leans in.

The way that stupid smirk sends heat crawling up my neck like some kind of sick spell.

How do I stop reacting like this?

This isn’t middle school. This is high school. And Hayes Griffin isnotsupposed to be able to fuck with my head anymore.

And yet—here we are.

Him pushing every button. Me letting him. That stupid grin. That stupid smirk. Leaving me feeling hot, off-balance, and angry at myself for it.

What is this? A crush that never burned out?

It’s been four years, and he still knows exactly how to mess with me—how to get into my head, how to make my heart do things it has no business doing.

He turned my world upside down once.

And I let him do it again.

Maybe the sooner I accept that, the better.

I think back to the past—to when things were simpler. When it was easy to hate him. When hate didn’t bleed into something else.

But now?