Offsides (A Playing Hard Novella Book 3)

by Marie Johnston

  Offsides

  A Playing Hard Novella

  Marie Johnston

  LE Publishing

  Copyright © 2019 by Marie Johnston

  Editing by Tera Cuskaden

  Proofing by My Brother’s Editor

  Cover art by Mayhem Cover Creations

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Marie Johnston

  Chapter 1

  My son sat outside the principal’s office, his expression not his usual teen aloofness or irritation. His brows were drawn as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands loosely clasped. My boy had far exceeded the chubby-cheeked toddler with big blue eyes that he once was. He was sixteen and nearly six feet tall, with his dad’s bushy brown hair and my solid build.

  I pushed through the office door. The secretary glanced up, and there it was. The recognition—not of me personally, but of my story. I’d kept quite a distance from this school for a year and a half.

  “Hi, Shelly.” I waited at the counter. The halls of the school were empty. When Shelly called me this afternoon to tell me that Mr. Westfall wanted to meet with me and Connor, I insisted that I couldn’t get off work.

  I could get away whenever I wanted. I was a real estate agent. But I’d admittedly been working my ass off to keep a roof over our heads for the last year, ever since the papers came that said I was officially a single mom.

  “Go ahead and have a seat, Jess.” To everyone else I was Mrs. Smith. A nice generic name for a nice generic woman. Until Mr. Smith left. Shelly probably didn’t know what name I went by and defaulted to Jess since my ex used to teach here. “Mr. Westfall will be right with you.”

  I’d prodded Shelly for the reason for the meeting but she said the principal only asked her to set it up.

  I crossed to Connor and murmured, “Did something happen?”

  He was a good kid. The kind where my heart swelled near to bursting because he opened doors for young and old, men and women alike. But the next day I could blow a blood vessel asking him what he was thinking when he buttered his bread before putting it in the toaster and smoking us out of the house. Good thing toasters didn’t cost very much.

  “I dunno. My last period teacher just told me to report here after school.”

  The poor kid. He’d been through hell since his dad walked out. While I’d tried to keep his morale up, he wasn’t talking to friends like he used to, and it was hard to get him out of the basement. Unless it was winter and there was ice on the ground. Then, he’d put his skates on and practice hard enough in the neighborhood outdoor rink that I was mired in guilt for days afterward. He’d been so good at hockey.

  The stereotype was true. It was a sport that made me hemorrhage money, but that wasn’t why I didn’t let him play last year. And it wasn’t like he was begging to join the team again.

  The oak office door swung open. I couldn’t see inside Mr. Westfall’s office, but his head was turned away, and he was talking with someone else.

  What the hell was going on?

  I had a showing at seven and hadn’t had time to research the property. Our fridge was empty, but a grocery run wasn’t going to happen. Since Connor had lost interest in learning how to drive, and I didn’t have the heart to force him into something that reminded him of all the things that remained unfinished with his dad, I was the only driver.

  If I had my shit together, I’d get groceries delivered, but life had become a game of catch-up.

  “Jess, good to see you again.” Mr. Westfall’s smile only slipped a little, enough that I could see the tension simmering in his otherwise steady brown eyes. “Connor, come on in.”

  I gave him a perfunctory smile and ushered Connor ahead of me. My son entered the room and stopped so abruptly I bumped into him.

  “What’s wr—” My gaze landed on the reason.

  One of his old hockey coaches was there. Hayden Lennox. I could barely look at him.

  It was like the last year and a half never happened. Like I was being sat and told that my tidy little life was coming undone, again.

  Mr. Westfall swept the door shut behind me like he was afraid I’d turn and run.

  “Jess.” Hayden’s voice was low. I always thought he had a nice voice. I used to tease his wife back when— Well, I used to tease her that she must get serenaded every time he showered. She’d joked that when he showered, she wasn’t interested in his voice. He dipped his head toward my son, his hard hazel eyes softening. “Connor. How’s it going?”

  Our sons used to be friends. Best friends. They’d bonded over learning to skate as kids and were nearly attached at the hips until a year and a half ago. The reminder made my gaze drop to the floor.

  Did Hayden feel the same way? As if looking at me reminded him of all his failings, of how stupidly ignorant he’d been, of how his whole life crumbled away?

  I gave Branden a stiff nod and floundered to the closest chair, grateful I wore my slip-on loafers and not heels. Today was not a day I wanted to fall on my face in front of witnesses when I felt like I was reclaiming my dignity. Autumn was settling into eastern Minnesota, and I was in pants and sweaters mode.

  The seats Conner and I sat in were arranged in a half circle around the principal’s desk. Hayden was in a chair just like ours, but to the right of Mr. Westfall. It was too cozy of an arrangement.

  And I knew just why they called me here.

  “You could’ve just said over the phone.” I managed to sound as bitchy as I wanted to feel. Instead, panic spread through my veins like poison until I worried I’d throw up all over my sensible shoes.

  Mr. Westfall’s sympathetic smile didn’t make me feel better. “I was afraid you’d say no, and I wanted to explain the situation.”

  “It’s flattering you want Connor on the team, but if he wanted to play, he would’ve asked to.” I looked at Conner. He was staring at the top of the desk, his jaw clenched. The hockey team used to be his refuge. Being on the ice was like a second home, and he didn’t just play in the winter. He competed during the summer too.

  Then my marriage crumbled, taking his hockey dreams with it.

  My skin tingled, and I knew without having to look that Hayden was staring at me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

  “Conner.” Hayden spoke softly, like he would an injured animal, and in this case, the analogy sort of fit. “Don’t you want to play anymore?”

  Conner lifted a shoulder but didn’t reply.

  And I was done. Protecting Conner from the epic fallout that was my marriage was my priority for the past eighteen months. If I could’ve afforded to move, or quit my job and homeschool him, I would’ve. But selling houses had kept me getting out of bed.

  “There you have it.” I pressed my hands into the cold metal armrests of the chair, ready to dive for the door.

  “Jess.” The pain in Hayden’s voice was the only thing that could’ve stopped me. It couldn’t be easy fo
r him to be sitting here, asking for my kid to play on his team. He, of all people, would know the gossip it’d incite, and how hard it would be for Conner to dress for that first practice.

  I finally lifted my gaze and met Hayden’s. His hazel eyes had softened, but not enough to wipe out the determination. “We can’t.” I was keenly aware that I was answering for myself more than my son.

  “We have a chance to go to the top this year,” Hayden said. “The dream team is ready for varsity and can get us to state.”

  The dream team. It was what Conner’s dad used to call Conner and his hockey friends. They’d played since they could officially practice in kindergarten, but most had been on skates before then, and my ex had coached them all through their hockey club days. Conner was only sixteen, but years and years of friendships had gone down the drain when my marriage ended.

  Hayden knew exactly why Conner wasn’t playing anymore. How dare he ask us here just so they could go to state? “You want my son to resurrect everything that happened so you can win a few extra games?”

  Guilt flashed through Hayden’s eyes. Mr. Westfall interrupted, brushing a hand through his light orange hair. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t push it. But we’ve seen a decline in Conner’s grades and behavior since, uh, since—”

  As if everyone didn’t know and talk about it in our small town. “Since my husband ran off with Hayden’s wife?”

  Chapter 2

  Muscles on each side of Hayden’s jaw jumped, but worse, Conner’s head dipped lower, and he squeezed his eyes shut. I shouldn’t have blurted it out, but that was it. My big shame that shouldn’t be mine at all. It shouldn’t be Hayden’s, and it sure as shit shouldn’t be Conner’s.

  It shouldn’t even be a burden that Hayden’s son and Conner’s ex-best friend, Mason, carried. But Mason’s role in the whole big reveal was hard to forget. I’d had to forget it. A hurting fifteen-year-old couldn’t be blamed for the way he blasted my ex-husband’s confession all over the school’s email system.

  I’d read it many times. It’d been shared across every social platform the kids were on and late at night when I wanted to punish myself, my ex Kyle’s words scrolled across my mind.

  Baby, we can go away together. You and me. New life. I’ve shown you how much I love you, let’s leave it all.

  It’d been made into local memes that found their way to my real estate office by clients who giggled over them without realizing I was part of the let’s leave it all.

  I should’ve moved. I could’ve established a base in another town while Conner and I lived in a hole in the wall, sold a few houses, then moved on. But then Conner would’ve had to play hockey against his friends. Against Mason, who Hayden and I once had to pull him off of before he beat him unconscious.

  Poor Mason. How many times had I wondered how he and Hayden were doing. Hayden was in his mid-thirties like me, both of our families having bonded over the early start we’d had and how we’d finished our education and built careers through the years of having small children.

  I’d gotten my real estate license after Conner was born. Kyle had taught at the high school and coached for the hockey club, then our boys were supposed to have graduated to playing for the high school where Hayden would be their coach. And then there was Hayden’s wife, Carrie.

  That two-faced bitch who seduced my more-than-willing husband. Or was it the other way around?

  Hadn’t that been the question that kept me up for many nights?

  Carrie and her blonde bob and her tight body. Carrie who drifted from job to job and found a way to blame hard-working Hayden for her unlucky adventures in employment. Carrie and the way she was the darling of our social circle. She had it all, but she got my husband too. And if he would do something like that to me, then good riddance. But it hadn’t been easy.

  Mr. Westfall broke the uncomfortable silence. “I think being on the team would help Conner repair some relationships and move forward from what happened.”

  With the ex-husband of the wife who left town with his dad? With the son who’d broken the news about the affair in a big way? “I don’t agree.” I tensed to push out of the chair once more when Conner spoke.

  “He never apologized.” Conner lifted his gaze to Hayden. “Mason. He never felt bad for what he did.”

  Hayden took a steadying breath before he answered, and my respect for him grew. At first glance, it didn’t seem the ordeal affected him. He was still as tall and as broad as before. He hadn’t lost weight wondering if he’d lost his appeal to the opposite gender and that was why he’d suddenly found himself alone. There was no stress eating in his house.

  Hayden looked like he thrived in the single life. The muscles of his biceps bulged as he brushed his hands together, back and forth as he leveled his coach gaze on Conner. But then, he’d been the main bread winner when Carrie ran out on him. I’d gone from a home dependent on two full incomes to just my earnings and a husband who’d ghosted me and all of our bills.

  How did I appear to Hayden? Bags under my eyes. Old slacks that were wearing along the hem. My hair hadn’t seen highlights, low lights, or any lights beyond a quick trip to the discount hair cut shop. And I’d had to go up a size.

  “Mason has been working on how he reacted to his mother’s…” Hayden’s eyes flickered and revealed the pain and worry for his son. “As you can imagine, it’s been hard for him. Just because he was the one to discover the affair didn’t make it easier. I think it made it harder than it would’ve been.”

  Conner shifted in his chair to stare out the office window at the empty parking lot. He looked back at Hayden out of the corner of his eye. “How much of a chance to go to state? Do you think we can win?”

  My stomach twisted, but a broad grin tugged at Hayden’s full lips, decreasing my anxiety. He really had nice lips. I’d always thought so.

  I hated to admit I always thought Hayden was hot. I hadn’t compared him to Kyle. At the time, I’d thought my ex was handsome enough, just like I did okay in the looks department, but I’d subconsciously decided that Kyle and I didn’t compare to the level of outward beauty that Hayden and Carrie had attained. Only Hayden seemed like a genuinely nice guy who liked to make dad jokes that left our sons groaning.

  “I know you missed last year,” Hayden said quietly, “but the boys played really well together. I thought a couple were even ready for varsity, but I didn’t want to split them up. The way you guys play as a team…” He shook his head. “I’d been looking forward to coaching your group for years, but it’s not the same without your offense, Conner.”

  I had to suck in a deep breath. Slowly, like I was breathing through a straw. This request wasn’t about me. I’d seen the change in Conner after Kyle left. Unlike Hayden’s son, Conner didn’t act out and try to shame his dad and his dad’s new wife. Bile rose in my throat.

  Our divorce had taken record time. A simple split of assets, no fighting on either side. I thought it was because Kyle wanted to put the nightmare behind us, but no. He’d moved to the Bahamas with Carrie and married her the day after our divorce papers were signed.

  Jackass.

  My son had been abandoned by his dad, lost his best friend, and withdrew himself from the team. He was a teenage zombie coasting through life. His grades were enough to keep me from being concerned, just like his behavior was enough to keep me from pulling my hair out with worry. I still took him to a shrink because I knew he was trying to protect me as much as I was shielding him.

  I couldn’t weaponize my support for his decisions in order to continue guarding myself. If Conner wanted to try hockey again, if he wanted to walk through the all-seasons arena knowing kids and adults alike were gossiping, and if he wanted to stick with it until all that passed, then I’d grit my teeth and smile like reading those emails where my husband asked another woman to run off to paradise with him didn’t cut me to the bone and wick out all my marrow.

  “Conner,” I asked. “Do you want to take some time to decide?�
�

  Conner nodded and switched his stare back to the desk. “When do I have to let you know?”

  “First practice is next Friday.” Hayden’s tone was light, keeping the pressure off Conner. If he kept his concern leveled on my son and not on the state championship, then I might be able to trust him to watch Conner and let me know if anything was wrong. “I kept watching for you to register, but when I didn’t see your name, I asked Mr. Westfall for the meeting.”

  The principal dipped his head, his expression grave. “I want you both to know that I wouldn’t have asked you here if I thought this would be a poor experience, especially for you, Conner. Last year, I understood when I didn’t see you skate out. But… Look, Conner. I’ve known you since you were in kindergarten.” Mr. Westfall had been a teacher at Conner’s elementary school before landing the principal position. “You’re not happy. You’re not enjoying school. And I think you could be. But I think we gotta work through this first before we know.”

  “I miss hockey.” Conner’s admission wasn’t a stunning revelation, but his tone told us all what his answer would be.

  I shifted my gaze from Conner to Hayden. His grim expression had to match mine. I was in this as much as he was. He had continued to coach through the worst of the upheaval. He’d guided kids on the ice as their parents gossiped in the stands. And he also had his own kid to worry about with my son joining the team.

  As Mr. Westfall discussed registration with Conner, I lifted a subtle brow at Hayden as if to say Are you ready for this? I wasn’t asking about what an epic deal it would be for our little town of Prairie Mills to go to state. His slow nod told me that he was, but his eyes asked how I was doing. I had to look away.

  I was doing fine. My work was going well, and while I had more pressure to perform and earn a decent income, I still had a roof over my head, and my car was almost paid off. I missed having a special someone to talk with. I missed my energetic son. I missed my hockey parents group. I missed the get-togethers with Hayden and Carrie, the old Hayden and Carrie, back when we all seemed happily married.