Offside (24 page)

“Yeah.”

“Are they any good?”

He blinked at her, his mouth
tightening, then his gaze went unfocused.

She frowned. “Matt?”

He looked back at her and shook his
head. “They have a few good players,” he finally said. He looked
down at his half-eaten dinner. He pushed it away. “You
done?”

“Uh…no.” It was not like Matt to not
eat everything on his plate and then some of hers.
“You?”

“Yeah.” He picked up his cell phone,
looked at it, set it down. He gazed around the
restaurant.

“Okay. We could get this boxed up and
take it home.”

“Jesus. We don’t need to do that.” He
rolled his eyes. “Fucking doggy bag —I don’t think so.”

She sat back. “Ooookay. Do you mind
sitting there a few more minutes then, while I finish my dinner?
Because you may be done, but I’m actually still hungry and still
eating.”

He gave a short nod. “Yeah, yeah.
Sorry,” he muttered.

But it turned out her appetite had in
fact disappeared. “You feeling okay?”she asked quietly.

“Fine.”

She nodded, forked up another piece of
crispy battered fish, chewed it and swallowed it. She made herself
do that a few more times, just because she’d made a point of
wanting to finish her dinner. Then she took another swallow of her
beer. “Okay,” she said, Matt’s attention on the television on the
wall above the bar in the small pub. He glanced at her. “We can go
now, if you want.”

“I’ll go pay the bill at the bar,” he
said, sliding out of the booth.

She watched him move through the
tables, big and graceful. She narrowed her eyes a bit, worry
curling inside her. Something was up with him. She opened her purse
and touched up her lip gloss, checked her own cell phone
needlessly, then waited for him to return.

They walked the two blocks to his
apartment through the chilly evening. Fog was developing out over
the ocean and the dampness made her shiver. Usually Matt would
notice something like that and slide an arm around her, but tonight
he walked beside her, not touching her, apparently lost in his own
thoughts.

What was going on with him? Was he
having second thoughts about them? Her heart landed in her throat,
thinking that maybe he’d finally realized hanging around with her
was not a good idea. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets,
shoulders hunched.

When they got to his apartment
building, she paused at the door. “Maybe I should just go
home.”

He frowned. “What? Why?”

She eyed him. “You don’t seem in a
very good mood.” She took a big breath. She had to ask. “Are you
mad at me about something?”

He gave her a sharp look. “Fuck
no!”

“Then what’s wrong? You were all
distracted and grouchy during dinner.”

His eyebrows lifted.
“Grouchy?”

“Yeah. Grouchy.”

He rubbed his forehead. “Sorry. Didn’t
mean to drag you down.”

“What is it?” She moved closer, more
concern rising inside her.

“Let’s go up to my place.”

They rode the elevator up to his
apartment in silence, questions buzzing in Honey’s
brain.

He went straight to his kitchen and
grabbed a beer out of the fridge, then threw himself down onto his
couch.

“Nothing for me, thanks,” Honey said
dryly. She kept her jacket on.

His head fell back. “Shit. Sorry,
Honey. D’you want another beer? Wine?”

“I don’t know. I guess I want to know
what’s going on.”

“It’s not you. Take your jacket off,
for fuck’s sake.”

She gave him a narrow-eyed stare.
“Whatever it is, you don’t have to be an asshole. I’m going home.
You can call me. If you want.”

She turned to leave. She was at the
door when she felt him behind her. He pressed her against the door
with his big body. “Don’t go,” he murmured against her
hair.

She closed her eyes.
“Matt.”

“I’m just on edge about the game
tomorrow.”

The game?
The game
?

He pressed deeper into her and she
felt his heart thudding. One of his hands tightened on her
hip.

“Why?” she whispered.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.
Can we just leave it at that? I’m sorry I’m being an
asshole.”

He moved back and she turned to face
him, their bodies still touching. She gave him a searching look.
“Are you hurt?” Oh god! “Is it your injury?” She bit her lip, her
body going tense.

“No. I’m fine.”

She let out a hard breath. Okay.
“Talking about it might help,” she offered, although she still had
no idea what the problem was.

“I’m just being an idiot,” he said.
“Come on. Let’s watch a movie or something. You pick. It can even
be
The Notebook
.”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Gee,
thanks. Seriously, Matt. Maybe you should just get a good night’s
sleep or something. I’ll see you Sunday.”

His mouth went tight. His throat moved
as he swallowed. “Please. Don’t go. I want you here, Honey.” His
eyes met hers. “Please.”

Her heart melted and she let out
another long breath. “Okay. But I want to watch
Die
Hard
.”

His eyes widened. “Yeah?” Then he
shook his head with a short laugh. “Right.”

“No, really.” She knew he liked that
movie. She pushed him back with a little shove to his chest. “Now
let me in.”

She took off her jacket as they walked
back to the living room, dropping it on the back of a chair, and
sat on the couch.

“Maybe I will have a glass of wine,”
she said to him before he sat again.

“Sure, babe, I’ll get it.”

Soon she was snuggled into his side
with a movie on TV—a compromise in
Star Wars
, which she
actually liked too.

An hour into the movie, Matt said, “We
play New York tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“That’s the team I was playing when I
got hurt.”

She blinked into the dim room, going
still. Her hand rested on his flat belly. “Oh.” Her mind started
working. “The guy who hit you…Fiero…”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what happened,” she said
quietly, keeping her cheek pressed to his chest. “When you got
hurt.”

“It was a dirty hit,” he said, his
voice rough. “It was late, it was from behind, his feet left the
ice and he made direct contact with my head. Fiero got a
five-minute penalty and a game misconduct. Then they reviewed the
video, and he got a twenty-one game suspension. Almost the same
number of games I missed,” he finished bitterly.

“You don’t think that was
enough?”

“Hell. What’s enough? That wasn’t the
first time he did something like that. I’d be happy if he wasn’t
allowed to play ever.”

“Did you ever talk to him
after?”

“No. He made some statement that he
didn’t think it was a bad hit, and he had no intention of hurting
me, but he never apologized either.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “Are you
mad at him still?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment.
His hand went into her hair and pulled through it, letting the
strands slide through his fingers again and again. “I don’t
know.”

“So… that’s why you’re on edge about
tomorrow.”

“Yeah. A little.”

A little. Right. She smiled against
his shirt. “Are you going to fight him?”

His body tensed against
hers.

“I don’t know.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“I want to punch his fuckin’ lights
out,” he growled. “I seriously want to pummel him into a bloody
pulp.”

She tried to breathe. “So that’s a
yes. You are still mad.”

He sighed. “Not as much as I was. Man,
there was a time when the rage was just burning a hole inside
me.”

“Are you going to fight him?” she
asked again.

“I’m not gonna back down if it
happens. But I’m not stupid. I’m not gonna go out there and
instigate something. I just got back to playing. I don’t need a
suspension.”

“That’s smart,” she agreed.

“Fiero, on the other hand,
is
stupid,” he said. “Who knows what the fuck he’s going to
do.”

“Why would he do anything? He’s the
one who was in the wrong.”

“Yeah, but like I said, he’s
stupid.”

She smiled again. “Then you have an
advantage over him.”

“He’s got twenty pounds on
me.”

Her stomach cramped, thinking of Matt
fighting. Growing up around hockey and hockey players, that part of
the game shouldn’t bother her, but she hated the fighting,
especially if it was Matt. The way they’d throw punches while on
the ice, sometimes going down on the ice, both wearing sharp blades
and equipment that was supposed to protect them but could actually
cause an injury in that circumstance…it made her feel like she was
going to throw up.

“I don’t want you to fight,” she said
quietly. “But I know you’ll do what you think you have to
do.”

They sat there in silence for long
moments, the movie still playing, but Honey wasn’t paying attention
to it and she had a feeling Matt wasn’t either.

Then his arms tightened around her and
he pulled her up higher on his body. His hand went to her face,
cupping her jaw. “Thank you, Honey,” he whispered.

“For what?” She touched his cheek with
her fingertips.

“Just for being here. Thank you for
staying. Didn’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Emotion swelled in her chest and she
found herself on the verge of saying something really, really
stupid. Instead, she smiled and nodded, and touched her lips to his
in a gentle kiss.

*****

This time her dad didn’t seem so
surprised to see her when she showed up in his box.

Her insides were knotted, her throat
dry, but she was trying to be cool and not let on how nervous she
was for Matt.

“So, um…which guy is Fiero?” she asked
her dad, looking at the players on the ice below them for the warm
up.

Her dad gave her a long look. “Number
seven.”

She found him. Big guy.
Bastard
. She drummed her fingers on the counter.

“Is he a dirty player?”

“He’s a repeat offender,
yeah.”

“Why do they let him play?” she
demanded.

Dad snorted. “The suspension was
intended to send a message that the league won’t tolerate that kind
of conduct.” He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him play yet this season.
Hopefully he got it.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

She sensed Dad’s amusement and glanced
at him. “What?”

“You worried?”

She hitched a shoulder and turned back
to the ice. “Nah.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You shouldn’t have invited Matt for
dinner that weekend.”

“I thought you’d like it,” he
said.

“I did like it,” she admitted quietly.
“But please don’t interfere, Dad. I’m trying to make it on my own.
I don’t know what exactly is happening with Matt and me. Probably
nothing.” That was an epic lie. “It was embarrassing when you got
me that job that turned out to be just them doing you a big favor
and making it look like I was working. I don’t want you doing that
with guys I date.” Getting involved with one of the players on the
team was undoubtedly a bad idea, but it was past too late for that.
And it was
Matt
. “I worked hard at school so I could feel
like I accomplished something on my own. Even though I had
financial help from you.”

“Lots of parents pay for their kids’
education, Honey.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. I made
sure I didn’t waste that opportunity. You got me my job, and I’m
trying not to waste that opportunity too.” And Matt? Was that an
opportunity?

She felt like Matt was something so
far beyond anything she could expect in her life, so good, so
decent, so strong. It scared her. She could change her lifestyle,
hit the books and graduate
summa cum laude
. She could take
initiative at work and find things to work on even though they
didn’t expect her to. But could she try hard enough at a
relationship to actually make it work? Did she even know how to do
that?

Those questions terrified her. The
longer this went on, the more she and Matt spent time together, the
bigger the chance was that she was going to screw this up. The
bigger the chance she was going to get hurt again.

“I just don’t want Matt feeling
pressure from you,” she finally said to her father. “Especially if
things end between us. I don’t want you to treat him any
differently.”

She felt his gaze on her and she
turned. They looked at each other for a long moment. “I didn’t
intend a dinner invitation to be any kind of pressure,” he said
quietly. “And of course I won’t treat him any differently.” He
paused, looking uncomfortable. “Having a daughter is…Christ. The
guys you used to date…we never really got to know them much, but
most of them were assholes.”