Page 39 of Off Sides

Would it be hard?

Yes.

But am I falling for him just the same?

Also yes.

And since when do I not go after what I want. He may think this is just a fling, but I’m all-in here. I’ve never met anyone like Calvin. I’ve never been so instantly drawn to another person.

I’m not letting that go.

By the time we get to practice, he’s still not totally ignoring me. Though—he’s quiet. And since he’s always kind of quiet, it’s hard to tell if he’s freaking out or if he’s just being his normal self.

But I know for sure that he is in fact freaking out when I get held up after practice—my brother wanted to go over a couple of plays—and when I get out to the parking lot, his truck is already gone.

I know I should probably give him some space to breathe. Last night was a big deal—not only for him—but for me too. I’ve fooled around with a couple of guys before, but nothing—and I do mean nothing—has ever felt like that. I never had any real feelings other than attraction before.

And I can’t stop the clawing panic from rising, so I get in my truck, and I drive out to the lake on a total hunch. I have no idea if he went out here or if he went home. And I know I can’t go to his house.

That would push him farther away, but if he’s out at the lake—well, that means he wanted me to come find him. When I drive around the lake, going to the same spot as the first time he showed it to me, little butterflies flutter away in my stomach when I see his truck parked there.

In the same spot as our first kiss.

He’s not in the truck, but I see him on the bench overlooking the water, and I park my truck, climbing out and knowing he has to know I’m here. He doesn’t move, though, as I sit down next to him.

We don’t speak for a long time, both of us just looking out over the water, the sun starting to set in the sky. It still has another couple of hours, but the pinks and oranges are starting to settle lower and lower on the horizon.

“I figured you’d come find me.” His deep voice pulls my eyes to look at him, but he doesn’t look at me.

“Are you okay?” I ask carefully. I know he’s tough. He’s big, and I’m sure people have always assumed that he’s strong—that he doesn’t get hurt or scared—but I see him for who he is. I know he’s terrified, which doesn’t make him any less strong. It makes him a human being with a lot of pain and insecurities.

I watch as he hesitantly licks his lips and then turns to look at me. “I don’t know.”

Honest answer. I like it. “Yeah. Last night was . . .”

“Amazing.” He says it firmly, but he sighs. “Wrong?” That’s a question. Shaky. Like he’s not sure he believes that.

“It didn’t feel wrong,” I say not defensively but just as firmly as his amazing. “Did it?”

The right side of his mouth ticks in an almost-there smile, “No,” He answers. “No, it didn’t feel wrong, but my family . . .”

I reach out and risk taking his hand in mine gently. “They aren’t part of this. They don’t have to know this.”

He seems to think that over, nodding slowly, but he doesn’t look pleased by that. “So you just what? Want to be my secret boyfriend?”

I flinch, and I he tracks it. I hate how much I hate the thought of that, but I also get it. I was out in Texas, didn’t talk about it that much. Definitely never talked about it at home, even though my parents knew. It was a big town. A big school. People knew I fooled around with guys, and no one really said anything except for a couple of assholes on my team—and they watched what they said for the most part. But I know Big Bend is different.

I know him being out and us being boyfriends, or whatever we want to label it, would be a problem here. Would make his life—and maybe even my life—a living hell.

“Maybe,” I say softly.

He surprises me when his big hand reaches up and strokes my cheek, letting his palm rest there. “You deserve more than that. I won’t do that to you.”

“So what then?” I ask, leaning into his hand—his touch. “We just ignore this? You go back to being surly and mad all the time? We’re just teammates?”

“I don’t know.” He says it so uncertainly. So sad it nearly breaks me.

“I do,” I say, leaning in my nose brushing over his. “I know I want this. However I can get it. It’s senior year. It’ll fly by, and then we’ll graduate. Why shouldn’t we have this while we can?”