Page 22 of Offside Rules

"I didn’t let them flood it. And yes."

"I don’t have any Hawkeyes gear to wear. And I like baking in oversized sweaters; it’s cozier, and my stuff is too restrictive. Can’t you make an exception to the rule?"

"Sure, you can wear that hoodie, and I’ll walk around without pants on."

She glares back at me. "You’re impossible."

"Here, I’ll help you." I head down the hall and get a black Hawkeyes hoodie from my closet. When I hand it to her, she unfolds it and holds it against herself. The hem hangs halfway down her thighs.

"Are you lending me this or asking me to upholster your couch? This is massive."

"I’m six foot five and two hundred and eight pounds. What did you expect? You’re what? Five foot two?" I ask, and she looks appalled.

"I’m five foot four and a half," she insists. "…On a good day."

I bite back a grin. "You can wear your own hoodies. Just leave San Diego downstairs."

She sets it on her bag instead of handing it back. I’m counting that as progress.

"Anything else?" she asks.

"That’s it."

She uncaps the marker and adds my rules along the bottom of the board.

"What happens if you break one?" I ask.

"I won’t."

"You’re that confident? Really?"

"I lock doors, Wolf. And I clean up after myself. Getting you safely to your coffee shouldn’t be difficult."

"And the sweatshirt?"

"I own other clothes."

"Then you shouldn’t mind a penalty."

She looks at the jar, then back at me. "You want twenty dollars?"

"No. I get a favor."

"Eww, gross, no."

I chuckle. "I’m going to try not to be offended by that, but no, I didn’t mean that kind of favor. Just a simple favor."

"Like what? Bring you back a cinnamon roll from Serendipity’s Coffee Shop?"

"Like you have to sit in my seats and wear my jersey to whichever game I choose."

"Ohhh, you’re diabolical," she says, pointing at me with a lifted brow.

"Deal or not?"

"Fine," she agrees. "But I won’t break any rules, so it doesn’t matter."

"We’ll see," I tell her.