Page 127 of Offside Rules

Six weeks ago, I wanted them done yesterday.

Now I’m hoping somebody’s ordered the wrong faucet.

Apparently, dating Wolf has made me the kind of woman who wishes plumbing problems on innocent contractors.

"You’re quiet," he says near my ear.

"I’m listening."

"To Olsen? We’ve all heard this before."

"I heard that," Olsen tells him.

"You were supposed to," Wolf fires back.

Wolf turns back to me, but this time, I don’t quite manage to hold the smile.

His hand stops moving.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired."

Peyton leans forward to see my plate. "You finished with those fries?"

"Yep. Help yourself," I say, pushing them towards her.

Wolf looks at the fries, then at me.

I should’ve eaten one. Giving away potatoes is apparently how he knows something’s wrong.

"Baylor…?"

I take a drink of water before answering.

"I don’t feel very good. I think I should go home."

"What’s wrong?"

"I don’t know. I’m probably just worn out. I’ve been working on my feet nonstop lately."

He takes his hand from my leg and reaches for his phone.

"Okay. Let’s go."

"You don’t have to leave. Stay and hang out with everyone. I can get a cab."

"Not a chance. I’m taking you home. I can see them anytime."

He says it while opening the rideshare app, and I don’t have the energy to argue. I don’t particularly want to either.

Peyton tells me to text if I need anything while Wolf settles our part of the bill. Olsen promises to let us know if he speaks to Bristol before the season ends.

"Preferably before she retires," Hunter says.

"And if all else fails, flooding her apartment isn’t off the table," Wolf teases. "It works."

Wolf helps me into my coat, then puts his good arm around me as we head outside.