Page 99 of The Offside Rule
Wren looked up. “You’re flushed.”
“It’s hot in there,” I noted, trying to keep my blush under control. It felt impossible.
Her eyes narrowed.
Dax yelled from table three, “Is purple a bad ankle color?”
Wren sighed. “Saved by the idiot.”
“I’m grateful.”
The afternoon dragged in the worst way. Hunter was everywhere: on the ice correcting prospects, near the boards talking to my father, back in the treatment room while Wren lectured him about his shoulder. Every time my dad said his name, guilt pushed against my ribs. Every time Hunter answered like nothing was happening, I wanted him more. By five, I was exhausted, starving, and still thinking about the closet.
My mom texted as I left the arena.
Mom: I’m on shift tonight. Dad ordered pizza for himself and Jaden. Are you coming home for dinner?
Before I answered, Hunter’s name lit up my screen.
Hunter: Let me cook for you tonight.
Me: That’s a terrible idea.
Hunter: I’m aware.
Me: My dad is home.
Hunter: I’ll feed you. Actual food.
Me: Why does everyone think I don’t eat?
Hunter: Because I watched you survive on coffee and half a protein bar today.
Me: Are you tracking me?
Hunter: Yes.
I stared at the screen too long.
Hunter: Come over after you go home.
Me: That’s risky.
Hunter: The closet was risky.
Me: The closet was your fault.
Hunter: You kissed me.
Me: You deserved it.
Hunter: I want to deserve it again.
My heart flipped.
Me: I’ll say I’m going to Taylor’s.
Three dots appeared.
