Page 4 of The Offside Rule
“No drowning games,” Mila said.
“They’re not drowning games,” Jaden argued.
Watching Jaden and Mila together reminded me of growing up with Quinn, my older sister. It also made me feel lacking, like I’d failed Isla by not being able to give her siblings. The three of them took off toward the backyard, Jaden still complaining while the girls completely ignored him. I grabbed the cooler from the trunk and followed the sound of voices around the side of the house.
Cole and Holland didn’t do anything halfway. Their backyard opened into a massive stone patio with long tables set up under string lights, even though the sun wouldn’t go down for hours. There were red, white, and blue decorations everywhere, trays of food laid out under shaded covers, and an Olympic-sized pool glittering at the center of it all. Kids ran barefoot across the grass. Adults stood in clusters with drinks in hand, catching up.
Cole stood near the grill, sunglasses on, beer in hand, looking more relaxed than he ever did behind the bench. During the season, as head coach of the Dallas Blaze, he spent most nights with a permanent line between his brows. But he wasn’t just my coach. Somewhere over the years, Cole had become my friend too. He was a man who had built something solid. Holland was beside him, laughing at something Paris said, one hand pressed to her chest. Holland had the kind of presence that made people lean toward her without realizing it. Warm, sharp, beautiful, and somehow always aware of every kid within a thirty-foot radius.
Paris, her older sister, stood next to her, all elegance and easy confidence, with her husband, Ryse, at her side. Half the people here were somehow connected by blood, marriage, hockey, or some complicated mix of all three. Nils and Sierra Karlsson were here too, though for once, without the chaos of their triplets. Nils had played on the same team as my dad when we were growing up, so he and Sierra were more like an aunt and uncle to me, even if we weren’t blood related.
I spotted Wolfe and Rebel Judd near the patio, deep in conversation with Cole. Their kids were older now. Liam was already in college, and Ariella was finishing high school, which seemed impossible considering I still remembered when half these kids were running around with sticky hands and missing teeth. Then I spotted Max McGuire, my teammate and the son of Ryse and Paris.
“Russell!” he called, lifting his beer.
Max was a forward on the Blaze. He was born into hockey just like I was. Well, for him it came a little later since Ryse married his mom and adopted him after his father took off and never looked back. He’d come to Dallas a couple years after me, and over time, he’d become one of my closest friends on the team. He was a few years younger than me, but we were both in the last leg of our careers.
His younger sister Hannah was still a teenager. She stood beside him, scrolling through her phone with the bored expression of someone who had been dragged to a family event and was counting the seconds until she could leave.
I set the cooler down near the drinks table. “You plan on helping with anything, or just standing there looking pretty?”
Max grinned. “Obviously, I’m looking pretty.” He batted his lashes.
“You’re useless,” I joked.
Cole turned at the sound of my voice and smiled. “Hunter. You made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss free food,” I said.
That was a bad joke, clearly, but Coach still smiled and pulled me into a quick hug, clapping me hard on the back.
“Isla already disappear?” he asked.
“Yup. Getting ready to swim with Mila and Jaden.”
“Good. Mila’s been asking about her since breakfast.” Cole glanced toward the water, where the girls were already kicking off their shorts.
Holland came over next and hugged me with the kind of warmth that always made me feel like I was part of the family, even though I wasn’t. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Thanks for having us.”
“Always.” She looked past me toward the pool. “Isla remembered sunscreen?”
“I sprayed her down when we left the city.”
“Oh no, that’ll do a number on your leather seats,” she said.
“Got that covered too. Made her sit on a beach towel.”
“Of course you did. You’re dad of the year,” she said with a smile.
“Now you’re flattering me.”
Cole cleared his throat, and Holland walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re the best daddy around.” He grinned, and she laid a fat one on his lips.
The afternoon settled around us in that easy holiday way. Burgers on the grill. Country music low in the background. Kids splashing in the pool. Someone handed me a beer, and for once, I let myself relax. It wasn’t always easy for me to do that. Relaxing meant my mind had room to wander, and my mind had a bad habit of going places I didn’t want it to. To mistakes. To losses. To all the ways life had turned out different than I’d once expected. But Isla was happy. That was enough.
I was listening to Wolfe tell Cole some story from their college days when the patio door opened. At first, I barely noticed. A woman stepped out of the house, and every conversation around me seemed to soften at the edges. She was tall. Five-nine, maybe. Athletic in a way that looked natural, like she didn’t have to work at it even though she definitely did. A short white dress skimmed over her body, simple and summery, showing long legs and tanned skin. Platform sandals gave her another inch or two. Her chocolate-brown hair fell loose over her shoulders, glossy in the sunlight, and when she turned her head, I saw eyes the color of deep forest green. For one stupid second, I forgot where I was. I think I forgot who I was. I didn’t allow myself to have visceral reactions like this to a woman. Or maybe it was that no woman I’d met in the past decade was capable of pulling a reaction like this out of me. I’d had my share of one-night stands on the road. I was a man with needs, but I hadn’t had a relationship since my ex Amy screwed me over after our wedding reception. This was out of character for me. Yet I felt my blood pumping in a way I didn’t recognize.
