Page 42 of Forever Offsides

“No. He didn’t,” I tell Katy.

“But at least he didn’t see you,” Tinsley jumps in.

Yeah, but I have to see him tomorrow.

13

QUINN

Ispray a fresh round of sunscreen over my arms and legs before I drop the can back into my backpack. I’m wearing a hat with my hair pulled through the back, but holy hot balls, it’s scorching out here today and humid AF to boot.

I take a pull of my water from my water bottle, grateful it’s still cool considering I filled it entirely with ice this morning.

Yet another reason why I prefer hockey and basketball? Ice and air conditioning. No elements. I’m a snowboarder. We like cold, not blazing sun and heat.

The team is on the field, and I’m bored. So bored I pull out my phone to doomscroll because that seems preferable. You know what? Fuck it.

“I’m running to the ladies’ room,” I tell the physician’s assistant beside me. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Kiss the air conditioning for me.”

I grin and wink at her. “I will.”

I head off the field toward the locker room, rounding my way by the parking lot when I catch the faint bite of a whistle behind me. I can’t make out what Coach is saying, but it sounds like they’re finishing up, which is weird. I glance back over my shoulder and note the players heading to the sidelines to grab their waters and towels.

I check my watch and realize it’s lunchtime. It must be their break. I go to unlock my phone when a face flashes on the black screen. It startles me, and I jump forward and spin around at the same time.

My breath lodges in my lungs, but my heart takes off at a sprint. “What are you doing here?”

Russel stands before me, all six foot four of him with broad shoulders and a tapered waist. His wavy blond hair is shorter than the last time I saw him, and he’s put on more muscle, but everything else is the same. Same brown eyes, same cocky smirk, same asshole face I want to rearrange.

“I called and texted you. You never got back to me.”

My eyebrows take a nosedive. “Are you high or just completely deranged? Why would I pick up the phone when you call? I didn’t want to talk to you. I assumed you understood that unless you’re dumber than I remember you being.”

I hate that he’s here. I could have gone forever without having to see him again.

“Fine. I deserve that.” He shifts, his eyes dancing around my face. “But wow, it’s so good to see you. You look beautiful⁠—”

“Oh my god! Shut up! Stop talking. Now.”

“Come on, Quinn. Don’t be like that.”

Is he kidding?

“If you value any part of your general anatomy, you won’t speak another word. Or better yet, how about you leave and never return.” I pause, my thoughts catching up to reality. “Wait. Something isn’t right. You can’t be here for me.”

“But what if I am?”

Cocky motherfucker. I’m so not amused. “Did you know I was here?” I press.

“I called your office, and they said you were working here this season.” A smile lights up his face, and his hands go to his hips like a triumphant warrior. “You have no clue how perfect that is, even if I know you must be hating it. I always wished you liked football more than you did.”

“I legit don’t care.” I squint. “Don’t presume to know anything about me anymore. Are you even allowed to be here?”

“No. I mean, well...” He laughs. “Not exactly. It’s why I’m nowhere near the field and have been staying in the parking lot. I’m not allowed to watch the team practice, and I haven’t.”

“So you’re lingering in the shadows just off the field like a fucking creeper for no reason? How about I call security and have them remove you?”