Page 45 of Forever Offsides

“Does this hurt?” I press on Crew’s second and third metacarpals.

He grunts, annoyed that his sister is having to examine him. “No. I’m fine. I know how to throw a punch.”

“I’ll say,” I quip, and his lips finally twitch. Mason is pacing around the trainer’s room, his hands on his hips. “What did he say to you? Exactly.”

I set Crew’s hand down. “It’s fine.”

“Like I told you.”

“Quinn!”

I spin around and fold my arms over my chest. “Take a breath, Mason. He told me he was here for the coach, the team, and the girl.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Crew bites out.

I toss my hands up before I refold them. “I don’t know. I told him I better not be the girl and that he needed to leave.”

“Why is he here, though? As in stalking the parking lot during practice.”

I shrug at Mason. “Didn’t get that far.”

“Why has he been calling you?” That’s Crew who’s revving back up.

“Don’t know. I never picked up. He texted once saying he needed to talk to me but only called after that. I figured since he’s so good with expressing himself over text that if it was really that important, he’d tell me.”

“Dude, if he’s trying to get⁠—”

The door bursts open, cutting Crew off, and our father walks in. “It’s already all over the news. ESPN, the Boston Globe, you name it, they’re reporting it.”

I sigh and hop up onto the bench beside Crew.

“Are you going to fine him? Suspend him?” Mason questions.

“Me?” Our dad points to his chest and chuckles. “No. I’m sad I didn’t get a hit on him, but that stays between us. They don’t have Crew hitting him on camera because no one was there yet, and the players were blocking the camera’s view when you hit him in the balls. All they have is the shouting and the back and forth, but it’s a story, and they’ll run with it.”

“At least they didn’t have the incriminating stuff.” Technically, I assaulted someone while I was at work, and I could get in trouble for that.

“I know why you did it, and I can’t argue with you about it,” Dad continues. “That doesn’t mean the league won’t take action if they decide to investigate, which they might.”

I hiss a curse. “Can I do anything so that doesn’t happen?”

Dad shakes his head. “No, but I’ll talk to them about it and see what magic I can work.”

“What is Russel even doing here?” Mason barks, dragging his hands through his short hair. He drops back against a counter and leans his weight into it.

My dad’s eyes hold mine as he says, “He wants to be traded back here.”

“Fuck that!” Crew snaps.

“Why now?” I ask calmly, even as something is hitting me.

“His father is Rhett Jones.”

My eyes close and my lungs empty. Jesus. A sardonic laugh slips past my lungs. Of course he is. The coach. That’s what Russel said. And both of their last names are Jones. How did I not see it sooner?

“Did you know?” Mason asks me.

I shake my head and slowly open my eyes, hoping my features don’t betray the rave I have going on inside me.