Page 40 of Offside

"That explains why you own only two of them." He laughed.

We ate at the kitchen table. I told him Nico was fine. He told me Eriksson had once complained about the bread selection at a team meal and proceeded to eat half the loaf.

When the timer sounded, I removed the cold sleeve and checked the strength the way Zoe had shown me. It hadn't changed. I fitted the elastic support myself, pulling the strap across my chest and securing it where my left hand could reach. Declan watched my face, not the shoulder.

"Does tonight still count as dinner, or do you need space?" he asked.

"I'm not sending you home."

His shoulders loosened. We slowly finished the bottle of wine. The dishes went into the sink. I wiped the table because doing something gave me somewhere to put all the energy under my skin.

Declan leaned against the counter. His sleeves were pushed to his forearms. I'd watched those hands work for years. Now they rested loose around an empty wineglass in my home.

"Stay," I said out of the blue.

His attention came up to my face. "Tonight?"

"I want you here when I wake up."

"Are you asking because the shoulder hurts?"

"It has nothing to do with the shoulder," I said.

"Because you don't want to be alone after the fight?" he pressed.

"No." I put the dish towel down. "I'm asking because I want to wake up next to you. If you don't want to—"

"Yes," he interrupted me, setting the glass on the counter.

The answer landed harder than I thought it would.

I'd never been with a man before.

I crossed the kitchen and stopped in front of him. He didn't step back. His head tipped up, mouth close to mine—the same distance we'd left between us nine nights earlier.

There was nothing professional between us tonight.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please kiss me," he whispered, his breath short.

I put my left hand on the side of his neck and kissed him. I was careful at first, because I didn't know what he would do. Then he opened for me, and being careful lasted all of a heartbeat.

He caught my shirt in both hands and pulled me closer. I went with him. His mouth was warm, his stubble rougher than it looked.

I'd kissed enough people to know what I liked.

I'd never kissed a man.

The difference was real and physical. I felt it in the angle of his jaw under my palm, the breadth of his chest against mine, and the low sound he made when I put my tongue in his mouth. Wanting women had been real. This was real too.

God, was this real.

Declan slid one hand around my waist. The other stopped on my chest, below the support strap.

"Okay?" he asked against my mouth.

"Yeah. Not the shoulder."