Page 20 of Offside

I paid for dinner. We walked out together, and I waited while her car came around. Before she got in, she put both hands on my coat and kissed my cheek.

"For the record," she said, "the hair deserved more than two words."

"It looks very good. Better?"

"Growth," she said as the driver opened her door.

She got into the car, and I watched until it pulled into traffic.

We'd had a good run; we'd been honest with each other and broken no promises.

But it was history now.

I sat behind the wheel with the engine off and called Garrett.

He answered after four rings. "Somebody dead?"

"No," I said.

"Then why are you calling instead of texting?"

I put my free hand on the wheel. "I need to talk."

"All right." There was movement on his end, a cabinet closing and water running.

I watched my breath fade from the windshield. "I had dinner with Mackenzie. She invited me to her place."

"Okay. What happened?"

I rubbed my thumb over the seam in the wheel. "I didn't go."

"Also okay."

"You're bad at this."

The water stopped on Garrett's end. "You haven't told me what this is."

The restaurant door opened across the street. A couple came out laughing, the man holding the woman's coat while she found the sleeve.

"I wanted to go," I said.

"Okay." Garrett waited.

"Just not with her," I said.

Garrett continued waiting silently.

"It's Pryce," I said.

"Okay," Garrett said again.

"Stop saying that." I leaned my head back against the seat.

"You called me. Talk to me."

I put my left hand on the wheel.

"I want him," I said.