Page 79 of Offside Attraction

“Maybe because despite everything, you’re still interesting to me,” he replies, the teasing lilt in his tone softened by something deeper.

I swallow hard, my mind racing. Interesting? With the history we have, it’s a loaded word. But as I look at him, something shifts in the air between us, the tension easing, replaced by a vulnerability that’s unsettling yet thrilling.

“Okay, well, I guess that’s… something.” I try to laugh it off, but my heart isn’t in it. The truth is, I don’t know what to make of this moment. I want to keep fighting, keep pushing him away,but at the same time, I can’t deny the way my pulse quickens when he’s near.

He steps closer, the warmth of his body radiating off him, and for a moment, I feel completely caught off guard. I take a breath, reminding myself of our rivalry, of all the reasons we shouldn’t be here like this, but the way he looks at me makes it hard to remember anything but the pull between us.

“Come on, let’s sit,” he says, breaking the moment as he gestures toward a large rock by the water’s edge. I follow him, settling beside him, our knees almost touching. I feel the tension thrumming between us, a mix of anger, attraction, and something that feels almost dangerous. There’s something about being so close to him, without our usual verbal sparring, that makes it hard to breathe.

The silence stretches between us, comfortable yet charged. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re both teetering on the edge of something, something that could change everything. I’m aware of his presence—how close he is, how easy it feels to lean into him, to let the walls I’ve built crumble for just a moment.

“Just to be clear, I still fucking hate you, you know,” I say, trying to inject some humor into the moment, but even I can hear the weakness in my voice.

He smirks, that infuriatingly charming smirk that makes my stomach flip. “Yeah, I know.”

The sun sinks lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of orange and pink, and for the first time, I don’t feel the weight of our rivalry pressing down on me. I can’t help but wonder if there’s something more here, something we’re both too scared to admit.

CHAPTER 19

Thesoftrustleofthe trees and the distant lapping of the lake against the shore wrap around us in an almost serene silence—a stark contrast to the roaring engine that brought us here. The ride was mostly quiet. Just the wind, the vibration of the bike beneath us, the way his body moved in perfect control as we took each curve. No words. No space to think.

Now, sitting at the edge of the lake, there’s nowhere left to hide from the thoughts I’ve been shoving down.

My knees are drawn up, our legs brushing every now and then. Each accidental touch sends a jolt straight through me, sharp and unwelcome. The air smells like pine and damp earth—clean, sharp, grounding. It should calm me.

It doesn’t.

Instead, everything about this place makes the tension worse.

I sneak a glance at him, catching the way the moonlight cuts across his face—his jaw sharp, relaxed, and that stupid smirk tugging at his lips like he knows something I don’t. He looks calm. Too calm. Like this doesn’t affect him at all.

It pisses me off.

“How’d you find this place?” I ask, my voice rougher than I mean it to be.

Hayes turns toward me, expression unreadable. “Came here to think,” he says after a beat. “Away from everything.” His voice lowers. “Helps clear my head.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected.

I force my gaze back to the water, the dark surface swallowing the reflection of the trees. “Didn’t think you were the type to need space.”

He shrugs, a faint tease in his voice. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

A shiver crawls down my spine, and I hate that too.

The air between us feels heavier now, charged. I shift slightly, trying to shake it off, but somehow it only makes him feel closer. Like gravity’s pulling us together whether I want it to or not.

“Do you come here often?” I ask quietly.

For a second, I think he didn’t hear me.

“Whenever I wanna get away,” he finally says.

“And how often is that?” I glance at him briefly before forcing myself to look away again.

“Not enough,” he admits, eyes fixed on the lake.

“Is it safe to say this place is your safe haven?”