Page 14 of Offside Play (Love The Game #1)
Cody
S taring out of the plane window, I ran my finger over the bridge of my nose. Good as new. There was still yellowish bruising surrounding it, but soon, even that would be a distant memory. Just like our second game.
The words Coach Keller had spoken in the locker room after the game still echoed through my head.
Although he’d been clearly frustrated, his voice had remained steady as he’d taken the time to look at each one of us in turn.
“Shake it off. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
We’ve got two games in Dallas to get our heads right and come back strong. ”
He was right, and I hoped we’d be able to hold it together and get the win.
“The nose looks better,” Petrov said, eyeing the movement of my finger as he dropped into the seat next to me. I grunted in reply, and he shot me a grin, clipping his seat belt into place as the plane began to move.
“Back to communicating in grunts again, eh? You’ve been suspiciously cheerful lately. I was wondering when you were gonna go back to normal.”
“Suspiciously cheerful? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
His grin widened as he leaned back in his seat, clearly enjoying himself. “Wanna hear my theory? Someone’s getting laid.”
“Fuck off, Petrov.”
“Oh, he’s definitely getting laid,” Davis chimed in from across the aisle, and I felt my stomach drop. “Been wondering when you were going to introduce us to this mysterious girlfriend of yours. Or is it a new one?”
Several other players had tuned in to the conversation now, and I could feel their attention turning towards me. Fuck. They were like a pack of wolves scenting blood, and I was their unfortunate prey.
I gritted my teeth. “There’s no girlfriend.”
“Like hell there isn’t,” Myers called from a few rows back.
He held up his hand, ticking off points on his fingers.
“One. You disappear with bullshit excuses all the time. Two. The past two or three weeks, you’ve been in a better mood than I’ve seen you…
ever. And three—” He paused dramatically.
“—yesterday, I heard you humming in the locker room.”
“Fuck. Off. I do not fucking hum . It was probably Nielson.”
“Wasn’t me,” Brayden confirmed, leaning around Davis to shoot me a wink before inserting his earbuds. He sat back with his eyes closed, tuning the rest of the team out as he mouthed the words of whatever song he was listening to.
Petrov snorted. “Why so secretive? We all know the truth. Just admit it. Say it with me. I…have…a…girlfriend.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, sliding down in my seat and pulling my cap low over my eyes. “Can we focus on the next game, please?”
“He’s not denying it!” Myers shouted, and the rows around me erupted in laughter. Great. Everyone was listening in to this excruciating conversation.
“Come on, Clements,” Davis said, leaning forwards in his seat. “Give us something. We’re happy for you, man. You’ve been less of a grumpy bastard lately, which benefits all of us.”
Petrov held up his hand for a high five. “Agreed.” Turning back to me, he raised his brows expectantly. “Say it. Admit what we all know.”
An unwilling smile tugged at my lips, despite my efforts to bite it back. The truth was, they weren’t wrong. I had been in a better mood lately, and it had everything to do with a certain British soccer player who’d somehow managed to slip past my defences.
“Fine,” I said eventually, after what had to be a full minute of my teammates staring at me, waiting for me to confirm what they thought they already knew. “There might be someone.”
The rows around me erupted in cheers and catcalls, and I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
“I fucking knew it!” Petrov shouted in my ear. “What’s her name? What does she do? How’d you meet her?”
“Get away from me.” Lowering my hands from my face, I shoved at his shoulder. “I don’t want to speak about it anymore. And if any of you assholes say anything to the media, I’ll personally make sure you can’t walk for a week.”
Petrov’s humour died away. “We wouldn’t say anything.”
“I know. Just…can you drop it now? Please?”
“Alright.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Consider it dropped. Just know we’re happy for you.”
They thought they were happy for me. But how would they feel if they knew the person who was having this effect on me wasn’t a girlfriend but was Brayden’s little brother?
My phone buzzed as I was lying on my bed, reviewing footage from Dallas’s previous games.
It was a lost cause because as much as I wanted to do everything in my power to give myself and the team an advantage, my mind was filled with thoughts of a gorgeous green-eyed man who looked at me like no one else ever had before.
Jude:
What’s your room number? When can I see you?
Me:
Room 1909. Bed check at 11. Come after that
Jude:
What if someone sees me?
Me:
Say you’re going to see Brayden. He’s on my floor
Jude:
OK. See you soon
The smile I’d been suppressing on the plane reappeared, and this time, I didn’t try to bite it back.
See you soon, British .
Twenty minutes after the assistant coaches had made their rounds of curfew checks, there was a soft knock at my door. I opened it to find Jude standing in the hallway, dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie, like he was trying to blend into the shadows.
“Nice room,” he murmured as I closed the door behind him.
“Is it?” I moved closer to him, dipping my head to trail my nose up the side of his face.
“Mmm. Dunno,” he said with a breathless laugh, sliding his fingers around my nape and then up into my hair.
I pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath his ear, making him shiver. “Me neither. How was your flight?”
“Long. Boring. How was yours?”
“It was okay. The team gave me shit for my secret girlfriend. I admitted I was seeing someone, but they didn’t get anything more out of me.”
“Seeing someone, huh?” He fucking beamed at me with that dimpled smile, and I had to kiss his dimples.
“Yeah.” For now went unspoken, and I pushed our expiry date to the back of my mind.
“Would that someone happen to be an incredibly talented and incredibly hot Englishman?”
I slid my mouth over his to stop him talking, and he sighed into my kiss, threading his fingers through my hair, lightly scratching at my scalp. He drew back from me far too soon, though, studying me with his brows pulled together.
“How are you feeling about tomorrow’s game?”
“The same as usual. Confident. Nervous.” I reached up to cup his face, my thumb rubbing over the smooth line of his jaw. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He smiled at that, the concern in his gaze replaced with something so fucking soft it made my heart stutter.
“Me too. I’ve been thinking about you since the last game ended.
I know we’ve spoken since then, but… I guess I was worried about whether you were okay, whether the team was handling the loss alright. ”
“We’re okay. It’s one game out of the series.” I paused, studying his face. “You were worried about us?”
“Yeah. The team. Uh…I guess I was mostly worried about you.” His voice was quiet. “I know how much it means to you to move past everything that happened before…and how you don’t always have people you can lean on. And I hope I can maybe be a person you can lean on while I’m here.”
His words did something to my chest, made it hard to breathe for a moment. When was the last time someone had worried about me, personally, or even cared about how I was feeling outside of a professional capacity?
“Jude.” I couldn’t reply, too fucking overwhelmed to speak, so I kissed him, pouring everything I couldn’t say into it. His mouth moved against mine, so slow and sweet, and I never wanted it to end.
“How long do you want me to stay?” he murmured.
Forever .
My eyes flew open at the thought that had come out of nowhere. Fuck . I rubbed at my mouth, my heart pounding, and then cleared my throat. “We shouldn’t risk you staying too long. As much as I’d like to wake up with you in the morning, we can’t risk anyone seeing you.”
“Okay. An hour, then. You need a decent amount of sleep before tomorrow.”
“An hour,” I agreed.
One hour .
It wasn’t enough. Not when every second I spent with him left me wanting more, and more, and more.