Just as I'd suspected, we beat Dallas and Siobhan to his parents' place by a wide margin. We had time to pick up takeout, eat said takeout once we got to the cabin, for me to eat Bailey for dessert, and to relocate into the hot tub after.

Naked.

With, of course, the caveat that Ward was going to text me when they were fifteen minutes out so we had time to get decent.

Steam from the water rose in the cool night air and stars blanketed the sky above us, far more vibrant than in the city. The colored light in the hot tub changed in a slow, continuous pattern, tinting the water all of the shades of the rainbow and back again. It was silent aside from the jets of the hot tub bubbling.

Bailey nestled against my chest and we fell into an easy, comfortable silence. I was relaxed beyond belief... until it hit me what day it was. I'd been so absorbed in hockey, the tape scandal, and all of my own shit from the past week that I hadn't even connected the dots.

Shifting, I set down my amber bottle of beer in the drink holder beside me. "Weren't you supposed to hear about the scholarship today?"

True to my brand, the words slipped out before I could think it through, and regret hit me square in the face immediately after. I didn't know whether bringing it up was a mistake, especially right now when the moment was so perfect otherwise. In this case, I was guessing no news was bad news and Bailey hasn't wanted to tell me.

"Um, I did hear, actually." Bailey reached over, turning down the jets. She looked up at me, eyes dancing in the dim twilight. "I got it."

Cool relief washed over me. I was so fucking happy to hear something positive for a change.

"James, that's incredible." I kissed the side of her forehead, smelling the faint hint of chlorine from the water on her skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She gave a one-shoulder shrug and reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair back into her bun. "I just found out this afternoon. I was waiting until after the game to tell you. But then Stewart called and it didn't seem like the right time in light of the news he gave you, so..."

"Are you kidding?" I gently tilted her chin up to face me. "I always want to hear your good news. Though, I knew you'd get it."

Bailey broke away from my gaze and looked down, seemingly a little embarrassed. She was always way more modest than she should have been. If I could just slice off some of my ego and give it to her, we'd both be set. As it was, I'd settle for pumping her tires any chance I got.

"Yeah, they said they were sold when I pitched my article about toxic masculinity in team sports. They want to run it was a front-page feature."

Suddenly, I felt an irrational sense of pride even though I had nothing to do with her success other than cheering her on and being her occasional sounding board.

"That's awesome."

"Yup." She grinned. "They want it by the end of next week. I should probably start working on it soon, but I figured we both needed the weekend off."

"At a minimum." If I could have disappeared with her for more like a month, that would have been even better. Maybe this summer.

"Can I interview you as a source?" Bailey took a sip of her beer, watching me from the corner of her eye. I tried not to get distracted by the way her lush lips looked wrapped around the glass bottle. And failed.

"Absolutely not."

Her face fell. "Really?"

"Kidding." My hand drifted down to rest on her thigh beneath the water. "I'll make all the guys on the team tell you anything you want to know, too."

She arched a blonde brow, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. "Not sure coercion is the best way to get sources there, Carter."

"Psh, no one needs to know."

From beside my drink, my cellphone lit up with a message from Ward saying they were 20 minutes away. At least his trademark terrible timing hadn't struck again.

"They're on their way," I said. "Want to get out and hit the shower?" Probably not the worst idea anyway; we'd been in for a while and the heat was going to my head. On the other hand, all the knots in my muscles had melted away like butter.

"Sure."

Sliding out of the water, I grabbed the stack of thick white towels from the nearby chair and handed one to her. Bailey climbed out, wrapping it around her chest. The heat had caused her cheeks to flush pink, visible even in the dim glow from the tub's light. I had one of those moments where I was paralyzed with awe, still wondering how I got so lucky.

"What?" Her lips curled into a half-smile.

I'd been staring.

"You're just beautiful, that's all."

*

After getting showered and changed, we played several rounds of Cards Against Humanity with Ward and Siobhan, where he defended his reigning title as Worst Loser Ever.

"You guys just have no taste," he grumbled, putting the cards away.

From behind him, Shiv rolled her eyes. She padded away into the kitchen and returned moments later with a bottle of champagne in hand.

Dallas glanced up. "Where'd you find that?"

"Wine fridge," she said. "Is Stewart going to be mad if we open it?"

"Nah, they have parties here all the time and people bring more booze than they could ever drink." He opened his palm, gesturing for her to pass it to him. "Just let me make sure it's not crazy expensive." He scanned the label, brow furrowed. "We're good. Go nuts."

"What are we celebrating?" Bailey asked, following her into the kitchen. She turned to face the white quartz counter, reaching into the cupboard to retrieve four champagne glasses.

To be fair, we were all half-cut and probably didn't need the extra alcohol. But, YOLO.

"You never need an excuse for champagne." Shiv gestured with the bottle. "But you did get that scholarship, which is a big deal, right?"

"Need help with that, Shiv?" Dallas asked, eyeing her warily. I drained the last of my beer, weighing the odds whether this would go wrong.

"I'm an old pro."

Somehow, that didn't inspire a lot of confidence in me. Loved Shiv, but she was four drinks deep and built like Tinkerbell.

Shiv cut away the foil from around the neck of the bottle. She grabbed a white kitchen towel, starting to pull out the cork.

"Are you sur—" at the same time Dallas started to ask, her hand slipped, and the cork shot out of the bottle, sailing clear across the room. With a crash, it shattered a turquoise pendant light over the island.

Luckily, the four of us remained unscathed.

Siobhan turned to look at us, eyes wide, then back at the broken light fixture. Bailey's expression was much the same. Champagne foam started to pour out of the bottle, spilling onto the floor, but she was too focused on the broken glass bulb dangling awkwardly from the ceiling.

"Um...is Stewart going be mad about that?"

Dallas shook his head, giving her a rueful smile as he fought back laughter. "No, that one's on me. No more tipsy Siobhan opening champagne bottles."

*

Bailey walked out of the bathroom in a set of dark grey pajama shorts and a tank top. She was all legs and all kinds of hot. Maybe we didn't need to go right to bed.

"I know it's late," she said, "but I'm kind of wired. Can we stay up and snuggle for a bit?"

"Sure."

I slid over, making room for her beside me in the bed and wrapping my arm around her. Then something else popped into my head, probably fueled by a few too many drinks and long-standing, nagging curiosity.

"James?" I reached up, stroking her hair gently.

"Yeah?"

"This is going to sound a little out of left field, but I keep thinking about it. What happened when you were younger? Your brother said something about medical bills. I don't want to pry, but I feel like you usually tell me everything."

Bailey squirmed beside me in bed like she was suddenly physically uncomfortable. There was a pause. "Just a bad car accident."

Something inside of me twisted. "How bad?"

"Um..." she drew in a breath. "I had a concussion. Bruised ribs. Broke my femur."

"Holy shit." My hand froze. "A broken femur is a pretty big deal."

"Yeah, I was in a wheelchair for a while. My dad took a leave of absence from work. But the person who hit us was underinsured so it was an issue financially."

Oh my god, she'd had so many bad breaks—no pun intended—that sometimes I couldn't stand it. I just wanted to fix it, even though sometimes that wasn't possible.

"Is that why you stopped playing hockey?" I asked carefully.

"No, that was a money thing...before the accident."

My chest tightened. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, so that's how I ended up at Callingwood. Wanted to go to USC. Got accepted. Couldn't afford it. Even with loans." Bailey cleared her throat the way she always did when she was getting emotional and trying to hide it. "It's a really prestigious program, too. Kind of disappointing."

She was definitely downplaying that.

"Bet they have a good grad program."

"They do." Bailey nodded thoughtfully and sat up, turning to look at me. "I've been thinking about grad school lately. If I could get in."

See, there she went again with the misplaced modesty. If she couldn't get into a good grad program, no one else had a hope in hell.

"You know you have the grades for it, James."

Bailey's lips pulled into a tiny smile. "Maybe. But if we're taking USC, they're even more selective about who they admit to their grad program than their undergrad."

"Either way, I hear there are lots of good journalism schools in California. Especially within the greater Los Angeles area."

"That's true," she murmured, smile broadening. "There are a few."

"I wonder if there are any other selling points to California."

She intertwined her cool fingers with mine. "Hmm, I wonder. I guess warm weather is always a plus. No more shoveling snow or dealing with snow boots would be nice."

"The weather, huh?" I nudged her with my elbow.

"Good shopping?" She yawned. "Rodeo Drive or whatever it's called?"

I chuckled. "I can't remember the last time you went shopping."

"Celebrity sightings...? I hear they have tour buses that take you to see the Kardashians' house."

"Keep digging, James."

"What else?" She sighed, pretending to think. "Well, I do know this cute guy who will be moving to California after graduation."

"Just cute?"

"Handsome. Sweet. Dynamite in bed." She paused. "He's one in a million, really."

"Question is, will you be coming with me?"

I held my breath, waiting.

"One hundred percent."

And that's it! We've come to the end of the numbered chapters and I'm going to go cry now. I never dreamed I'd write a story this long.

Chase has been an absolute blast to write, which is how we got to 60 chapters. He burst into my brain in December 2020 and absolutely refused to leave - which is pretty on brand for him, when you think about it.

But there will be more Offside to come! Epilogue with dedication to follow, and some bonus chapters because you know I love me some bonus chapters. Plus, doesn't everyone want to see Chase and Bailey have super-tall, super adorable kids someday?