Offside (23 page)

Tip-toeing back down the stairs, I shuffled through my soccer bag for my keys, opened the front door as quietly as I could, and got into my car. I didn’t really think about where I was going though my destination was completely clear to me.

I had only one place to go.

The light from the computer monitor created a soft glow from the other side of Nicole’s window. I had parked where there was an old logging road, and my car wouldn’t be visible from the street, and now stood on the grass right below her window.

Looking around, I found a handful of pebbles on the ground and tossed them one at a time at the window until Nicole looked out.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

“Can I come in?” I called back.

She let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes.

“Go around to the door,” she grumbled.

I made it to the porch just as Rumple opened the door. She was dressed in a gray T-shirt and shorts and was obviously about to go to bed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I can’t be in my room right now,” I said, begging her with my eyes not to ask. She must have heard my silent plea because she looked me over, sighed, and then motioned me inside the house.

“Be quiet,” she whispered. “Dad’s a heavy sleeper, but if he saw you…”

She really didn’t have to say anything else. Every time I thought about Sheriff Skye, I pictured him with a gun bulging out from his belt. I knew he’d never risk doing something to me in a premeditative way, but if he thought he was protecting his daughter, I’d be shot before he thought about it at all.

We crept upstairs and into Rumple’s room. She turned off her PC monitor and motioned toward the bed. I watched her as I tried to decide exactly what I was supposed to do now. It felt like I was suddenly playing on offense, and I couldn’t remember how to handle the ball with my feet. I had no idea what to do.

Thankfully, Rumple seemed to know.

“Come on,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “Get in.”

Perhaps Shakespeare would have said I “should suffer salvation, body and soul.” Somehow, I thought Nicole could be my salvation.

Now what if she didn’t want to be?

CHAPTER 12

PRACTICE

After I took off my shoes and socks, I climbed into Nicole’s bed and put my head on her pillow. Even before she lay down next to me, just the scent of her surrounding me seemed to calm my nerves. Once she was there beside me, and I wrapped my arm around her waist again, my world came back into focus. When her hand came up to my face, and her fingers tangled in my hair, I felt like I could take a deep breath again.

“What did he do, Thomas?” Nicole whispered. With the lights off in her room, I could only just make out her features in the dark.

Somehow, that made it easier.

“He was in my room,” I said quietly. “I just… It’s stupid, I know, but…”

My voice trailed off.

“What?” Nicole pressed.

“He moved stuff…took stuff. Everything was out of place.”

Nicole was quiet for a moment while she seemed to contemplate what I said.

“That really does bother you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Your locker just about gave me a heart attack.”

She laughed quietly through her nose and stroked my temple.

“But you aren’t freaking out being in my bed even though I never make it?”

“Yeah…it’s okay,” I said and realized I meant it. “It smells good.”

“It smells good?” she raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” I replied. “It smells like you.”

I felt my face get warm, which was strange. The darkness probably hid the fact from her, and I was good with that.

Nicole was quiet for a few minutes, and I closed my eyes halfway, just lying there and thinking about how it felt when her fingers curved in a little, and her nails lightly scratched my scalp.

“What did he take?” Nicole asked after a while.

“It was nothing, really.” I shrugged. “Just my sketchbook.”

“You draw?” The shock in her voice made me tense. I never talked to anyone about my sketchbook or anything I had ever drawn, and I didn’t want her to think I was a pussy about art or anything.

“Not really,” I said, trying to backpedal. “I mean, not seriously or anything. I just kind of…doodle, I guess.”

“Why would he take it?”

“He doesn’t want anything to distract me from soccer,” I told her. “He’s just looking out for me—I know that. He just wants to make sure I keep my focus, but there were some sketches…well, I just didn’t want them gone. I don’t know what he did with them.”

“How is
that
looking out for you?” Nicole said with her voice full of venom.

“I want to go pro,” I said, shrugging again. “If I let other things get in the way, then my chances of getting on the right team aren’t as good. If you are going to be the best, be the fucking best. I’m not going to settle for anything else.”

Nicole scowled at me.

“What team is the
right
team?”

“Real Messini.”

“Really?” Nicole scoffed. “Thomas…they don’t even scout in the US.”

“They do now.”

There was a long pause before Rumple spoke again.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re coming to watch me play in two weeks,” I said.

“Are you serious?” The pitch of her voice increased, and she sat partway up in the bed, looking down at me. “They’re looking to replace William?”

“Yeah, eventually.”

“Holy shit,” she mumbled. “Thomas, that is huge.”

“That’s why he doesn’t want anything else getting in my way,” I explained. “He just wants what’s best for me.”

“Taking your sketchbook and breaking your rib are what’s
best
for you? How well are you going to play with a broken rib?”

I cringed, feeling my muscles tighten all over. I closed my eyes, as if squeezing them shut could force the images out of my head.

“He didn’t mean to,” I said. “It was an accident.”

“Bullshit,” Nicole mumbled.

“Please…don’t.” I’d beg her if I had to. I couldn’t talk about this.

She lay back down and traced her fingers over my cheek, down to my jaw, and then up into my hair again. She started pushing the stray strands behind my ear, and I felt my body melt into the mattress.

“All right,” she said.

“It will be better by then, anyway.” I shifted a little to get into a more comfortable position, and my hand slid down her side. My fingers grazed over her bare skin where her shirt had ridden up a bit. I probably should have moved my hand on top of the material again, but instead I slowly traced little circular patterns on her skin with the pads of my fingers.

I looked back to her eyes, and even in the dim light, I thought she was about the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She might not have the glamour of some model-types, but she had something more natural—more undeniably
feminine
about her. She also had strength—not just in her body but in her spirit.

And her skin was really, really soft, and it made me wonder if her lips were as soft as the skin on her side. That’s when I remembered something I had been thinking about earlier in the evening on my way home from dropping off Nicole.

“Hey…um…Nicole?”

“Yes?” she replied. “I am the only one here, you know.”

“Heh…yeah.” I felt one side of my mouth involuntarily turn up a little. I licked my lips and took a breath before continuing. “I was just wondering….um…”

I paused.

“Spill it, Malone,” Nicole said with a grin.

“Um…you know,” I started and then stopped again. “I mean, um…I was thinking…you know people are going to expect us to…well…to act like boyfriend and girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” Nicole said with wary eyes. “Quit stalling. What do you mean
exactly
?”

Turning my head back against the pillow, I stared up at the darkened ceiling for a second before I rolled over and just looked at the pillowcase instead.

“Well, I was thinking at some point…I mean…it would only be natural…” I stammered on, unable to complete an actual sentence.

“Thomas, will you just spit it out?”

Why was this so hard? I usually just fucking grabbed the girl and kissed her when I wanted. What was it about Rumple that made everything so different?

“We ought to kiss…you know…in front of people,” I finally blurted out. I looked back at her, and Nicole’s eyes widened a little. I just hoped and prayed she wouldn’t tell me to get the fuck out.

She just lay there staring at me, so I kept on babbling.

“So…I was kind of wondering if we should…um…practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah,” I said. I moved my eyes away from hers again and stared at my hand at her waist then back at the pillow. “Like, we should try kissing…so it doesn’t look awkward if we have to do it in front of other people.”

I kept my eyes trained on the pillowcase, wondering if it was more of a tan or beige and mostly just trying not to meet Nicole’s gaze at all. I was tensing up again, but only a little bit because she still had her hand in my hair. She hadn’t moved away from me yet.

“Okay,” she whispered.

The pillowcase was definitely losing its appeal, so I looked back at her.

“Now?” I asked.

“Um…yeah.”

I tried to keep my heart from leaping right out of my broken ribcage.

I ran my fingers against the skin at her side, gripping her lightly as my gaze danced involuntarily from her mouth to her eyes. I shifted my head, rubbing my cheek against the pillow a little before I rose and moved a few inches closer. I looked at her eyes, dilated in the darkness, but clear and bright…beautiful. I looked back at her lips…ever so slightly parted and releasing her breath just a little quicker than before.

I traced my tongue over my bottom lip and focused solely on what she was going to taste like. I grasped her side just a little bit tighter as I pulled her slightly toward me. Nicole’s hand slipped behind my head.

I moved closer, and I could feel her breath against my mouth. I could even taste it. Inhaling through my nose, I let her scent wash over me as my eyes closed, and I eliminated the final, minuscule distance between us.

My lips met hers.

So, so soft.

My head was spinning in circles. My skin rose in goose bumps, and everything around us faded and disappeared from the senses. There was no sound, no sight, no feeling outside of the slight contact between our lips.

Warm.

She tasted like she smelled…heavenly.

Pushing just a little, I molded my lips around hers, kissing her again. Her fingers tightened their grip in the hair at the back of my head, pulling me tighter against her mouth. I heard and felt her muted gasp.

I didn’t stop. I kissed her again, softly and slowly, moving my lips in sync with hers. It was as flawless as when we danced together. It was as flawless as the ripple of her thighs as she swung her leg, contacted the edge of the ball, and pinned it in the corner of the net.

Nicole shifted, pushing herself up a little, pressing my head down against the pillow. Her mouth wrapped around my lower lip, sucking on it gently, and it was my turn to moan. My fingers slid up her back, under her shirt, and teased along her spine. I felt the arteries in my thighs start to pump more blood to my cock as it pressed against her leg.

So, so good.

Nicole pulled back, breaking our contact, and I had to stop myself from whining. For a long moment, we just looked at each other. Both of us were still breathing quickly, and my heart continued to race in my chest. She was still very, very close…I could have reached out with my tongue and still touched her mouth.

“Do you think that was good enough?” Nicole’s whispered words brushed my lips with her breath.

“I’m convinced,” I said. I closed my eyes, mentally cataloging the last thirty seconds under the best fucking seconds of my life. I went over and over it…again and again. Every touch, every breath, every beat of my heart, every twitch of her fingers...everything. When I opened my eyes again, I looked into the deep, beautiful blue irises next to me, and I knew I didn’t want to pretend anymore.

I wanted her to feel it.

Really
feel it.

This wasn’t any old game anymore; it was the fucking World Cup to me.

I don’t know how long we lay there just looking into each other’s eyes. I actually lost track of the time. Nicole’s hand stayed against the back of my head, and my fingers continued to trace lines up and down her lower back. It wasn’t awkward or strange just to be looking at her in the darkness of her room. It felt natural and right to me.

“It’s late,” Nicole finally said.