Offside (Rules of the Game, #1)

Siobhan descended the stairs, a fresh drink in her hand. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I keep telling everyone solo cups only, but do they listen? No. I swear, someday I’m going to replace everything in this house with plastic.” Her eyes landed on Chase and me. She came to a halt halfway down the staircase, a knowing smile on her face. “You know, I just remembered that I was supposed to go…”

Chase grinned. “It’s okay. We were coming up.”

“Right,” I said.

Before I could move, he grabbed my hand, curling his warm, strong fingers around mine.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Several hours and two more broken glasses later, Shiv and I were curled up on the living room sectional, chatting while the guys played beer pong in the basement. A few other people were scattered around the living room, chatting and drinking, half watching an NBA game on TV.

“You transferred schools this year?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Her blue-green eyes darted around the room to check for eavesdroppers. She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a hush. “After I broke up with my ex, he went totally off the rails. He kept showing up at my dorm, and the school wouldn’t do anything about it. Eventually, transferring was the only option.”

I could kind of relate, though at least Luke wasn’t quite on that level. If he showed up for another couples’ night at my house, though, I was going to whack him with a frying pan.

“That’s awful.” I gave her a sympathetic look.

“But it’s also embarrassing,” Shiv added quietly, taking a sip of her gin and tonic. She pursed her dark magenta lips. “Like, how bad was my judgment that I dated someone so crazy? That’s why, when people ask, I tell them I transferred so I could switch programs.”

“His behavior isn’t your fault,” I said. “My ex isn’t exactly a prize, either. Sometimes people hide who they really are, and it takes time to see through the façade.”

Was that the case with Luke? Or had I ignored the red flags from the start? As a freshman, I’d been inexperienced and naïve; starstruck at the idea of being pursued by a hot, popular hockey player. Looking back, I recognized a lot of little warning signs. Some not-so-little ones too.

She shrugged, dropping her gaze. Starting over like that would have to be difficult, especially in a brand-new city. If I didn’t have Zara and Noelle, I would be adrift socially right now too. Heck, I still kind of was.

“How has it been at Boyd so far? I hear good things about it.”

“A little tough. Most orientation stuff is geared toward freshman. They pretty much expect sophomores to be settled in already.”

“It’s still early in the semester,” I said. “I’m sure it’ll get better once you start doing more group projects and that kind of thing.”

“I hope so.” She sighed, tucking a lock of raven hair behind her ear. “I met Dallas at the gym over the summer. But it’s been hard to meet other girls. Most of the guys on the team don’t have girlfriends, either.”

A pang of sympathy hit me, because I knew all too well what it felt like to be on the periphery. “We should go for lunch sometime.”

“Yeah?” Siobhan’s face brightened. “I’d love that.”

“James,” Chase’s voice rang out. It was low, commanding, gruff.

Siobhan froze. Her questioning look probably mirrored mine. I’d never heard him use that tone before, especially not toward me. Heavy steps echoed from the hallway.

He barreled into the room, eyes zeroing in on me as he closed the distance between us.

“Sorry, Shiv, I need to borrow her for a sec.”

“No worries,” she said, standing up. “I’m going to go beat Dal at beer pong.”

Chase took me by the elbow, ushering me through an archway into the dark, empty dining room. He shoved his phone into my hands and leaned against the table, watching me expectantly.

I looked up at him, scanning his face. “What is it?”

“Are you aware of what fuckface is saying about you?” He nodded at the lit-up screen, his jaw tight.

Brow furrowed, I studied the display. Then I blinked slowly, processing what I’d just read. It was a screenshot of a text from Luke, claiming that he was still hooking up with me on the side. Specifically, calling me his “side piece.”

That lying asshole.

My teeth set on edge. “Where did you get this?”

“We aren’t all enemies,” he said. “And not everyone on your team likes their captain.”

“Like who?”

He shrugged. “Palmer, Reed. I played minor hockey with them. And they can’t stand Morrison.”

“Oh,” I said. “I had no idea.”

“It’s not exactly something they can broadcast if they want ice time. But that dumb shit put this in a group text with almost the entire team, minus your brother, so in this case, he won’t know who ratted on him.”

The entire team? Resentment smoldered in the pit of my stomach, threatening to ignite.

Then I caught myself. No. Nope. Nuh-uh.

I wouldn’t let Luke rile me up and ruin my night—especially not when I was with Chase. Pressing my lips together, I exhaled through my nose, expelling thoughts of Luke from my brain. Begone, demon.

I handed Chase his phone. “For a minute there, I thought you were mad at me.”

“No.” His brow creased, his tone softening. “I’m mad at that.”

Chase glowered at the display again. The cords in his neck were tight, his breath uneven. Thinly restrained power and strength radiated off him, like he was a predatory animal ready to attack.

He looked ten times bigger when he was angry.

“Why do you think he would write that?” He gripped the phone so tightly it looked like he would crush it in his bare hand.

“Would I be standing here if it were true?”

“I know it’s not true, James. That’s why I’m so pissed.” He was still holding my elbow loosely with his other hand, like he’d forgotten about it. “Morrison is spreading bullshit because he’s got a problem with me.”

Trashing my reputation did fit Luke’s usual MO—never mind that I was his friend’s sister; he was all about revenge over reason, spite over smarts. Though it was an odd move, given that he was with Sophie. Did he want her to think he was cheating? Did she not mind if he was? I had so many questions, but honestly, I wasn’t all that interested in the answers.

“He is,” I agreed. “But who cares what he says?”

Chase’s jaw ticked, his grip on my arm tightening a notch. “I care.”

“Why? He’s a loser anyway.” I should have been mad, probably. Or sad. But I didn’t want to wage war against Luke; I wanted him to go away. Permanently.

My lips parted in surprise as Chase slid his hand from my elbow and rested it on my lower back. He pulled me closer, turning me to face him. Behind the anger in his eyes was something softer—tenderness mingled with desire.

“Because he’s messing with you.”

“It’s only messing with me if I let it bother me,” I said. “Besides, anyone who actually matters would know it’s a lie.”

Maybe I should have been upset, but it was more ridiculous than anything. Especially when I had pages worth of late-night texts from Luke asking if he could come over to “talk,” followed by my responses repeatedly shooting him down. I had no shortage of receipts proving that post was bullshit, but I didn’t feel the need to prove it in the first place.

Plus, I was more than a little distracted at the moment. Chase’s hand was still on my back, his scent enveloping me. The closeness of our bodies was exponentially more exciting, both physically and emotionally, than any text messages ever could be.

“Still.” He shook his head, gaze dropping back to his phone. His face clouded over like he was going to rain down his wrath on the next person unfortunate enough to cross him. “I’m going to flatten him on the ice.”

I touched his chest. “Carter.”

He lifted his head. Our eyes locked, and something clicked into place inside me. His expression relaxed, shifting from murderous into a sullen pout.

“You can if you want to. But I’m fine,” I said, flattening my palms against his black T-shirt. His heart pounded against my hands, strong and steady. “Really.”

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