Page 16 of Offside Angle

I hug him back just as hard. “Missed you too, Dad,” I manage, voice slightly muffled against his shoulder.

When he finally lets me go, I turn to my mom. She’s standing a few steps behind him, watching us with that calm, elegant expression she always wears. One perfectly shaped eyebrow is already raised as she looks at me.

I step forward and pull her into a hug. She hugs me back, but when I try to pull away, she doesn’t let go. Instead, she reaches up, gently grabs my face with both hands, and tilts it down so she can look at me properly.

Her eyes scan over my face slowly, sharp and knowing.

I grin down at her, trying my best to look normal. Relaxed. Like my head isn’t currently a complete disaster after what happened earlier.

She narrows her eyes at me.

I keep smiling.

Eventually, she lets go of my face but doesn’t say anything right away. She just keeps looking at me like she can see straight through whatever mask I’m trying to wear.

My dad, completely oblivious to the silent interrogation happening between us, claps me on the back hard enough to make me stumble forward a step. “Look at you!” he says proudly. “Our boy, about to start playoffs. You look strong. A little tired, but strong.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, glancing at my mom again.

She doesn’t call me out on it. But I can tell she’s already filing it away for later.

“Come on,” I say, forcing more energy into my voice as I grab one of their bags. “Let’s get you two home. Lena’s waiting.”

My dad immediately perks up at the mention of Lena, already launching into questions about how she’s doing and whether she’s excited for the games. My mom stays quiet as we walk toward the car, but I can feel her eyes on me every few seconds.

We pull into the driveway and I’m trying to act normal when we get out of the car. My dad is already talking loudly about how nice the house looks while my mom walks beside me, quiet but observant as always.

The moment we step inside, I frown. The house smells like food. Not takeout. Actual home-cooked food. Something warm and savory is definitely coming from the kitchen.

That’s… suspicious.

“Lena?” I call out from the doorway, dropping my keys on the table. “We’re home!”

There’s a loud bang from the direction of my bedroom, followed by some muffled cursing. A few moments later, Lena appears in the hallway.

And I blink.

She’s dressed up. Really dressed up. Hair down and neatly combed, a soft sundress I’ve never seen before hugging her frame, and she’s even wearing a little makeup. For a second, all I can think is that she looks angelic—soft, pretty, and completely different from the girl who usually lives in my oversized shirts and shorts.

I raise an eyebrow at her, confused as hell.

Before I can say anything, my dad lets out a loud, dramatic “Aww!” and immediately goes in for a hug.

Lena freezes, caught completely off guard.

I take in the whole scene, trying to figure out why she’s dressed this nicely and why the house suddenly smells as though someone cooked a proper meal.

“Dad,” I say, narrowing my eyes at Lena. “Dad, let her go. That’s not Lena.”

My father pulls back, looking genuinely confused as he glances between me and the girl in the sundress. “Oh… I apologize, young lady,” he says politely.

Lena’s eyes widen. “Wait… no… I am Lena!”

I shake my head, fighting a grin. “Nope. This is not my girl. Go back where you came from and bring me my girl back.”

Lena glares at me so hard I’m surprised I don’t burst into flames.

My mother lets out a quiet snort from beside me, clearly entertained.