All Chapters of Offside Hearts: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Kelsey’s POVIf I could delete one thing from the universe, it wouldn’t be spiders or pineapple on pizza. It would be Monday mornings in the second semester.The campus was a literal zoo. You had the freshmen wandering around like lost puppies, the seniors acting like they discovered fire, and the professors already giving us enough homework to sink a ship. I was power-walking to Hall C for my combined engineering lecture, trying to protect my sanity and—more importantly—my brand-new white sneakers.I was five minutes early. In engineering time, that means I was basically late.I rounded the corner of the main hallway, ready to slide into my favorite seat, when I saw him.Imagine a guy who looks like he’s lived his entire life in a gym, but currently has the brain cell of a goldfish. He was tall—like, "blocking the sun" tall—with a grey hoodie and shoulders so broad he probably had to walk through doors sideways.This was Marcus Halverin.If you don't know who Marcus is, you clearly d

If there was a "How to Ruin Your Life in 60 Seconds" tutorial on YouTube, I’d be the featured creator.I was sprawled across my bed, fully rotting in my room, which is my favorite weekend activity. I had my headphones on, blasting a playlist that was 90% "sad girl indie" and 10% "I could fight a bear," and I was deep in an Instagram scroll hole. You know the one, where you start looking at a recipe for 15-minute pasta and end up watching a video of a woman in Vermont who knits sweaters for her pet ducks? Yeah, that.My room was a vibe—LED strips set to a soft purple, textbooks pushed into a corner where they couldn't judge me, and the smell of a vanilla candle trying its best to mask the fact that I hadn't opened a window in two days.Then my phone buzzed. It was my mom."Kelsey, honey, I’m at the estate and I’m in a total panic," she said, her voice sounding like she was one minor inconvenience away from a breakdown. "I forgot my specialized pastry kit on the counter at home. The own

Marcus Halverine had always liked routines.Morning practice. Classes. Attention. Winning.Life made sense when things followed a pattern.And recently, his favorite part of that pattern had nothing to do with football.It was tutorial time.He would never admit it out loud — not to his teammates, not to his coach, not even to himself — but Marcus now planned his entire week around the two-hour engineering tutorial he shared with Kelsey Vale.At first, it had been obligation. A project requirement. Academic survival.Now?It was the only place where he felt oddly… calm.He arrived early every session, pretending to review notes while secretly watching the door. Every time it opened, his chest tightened slightly before relaxing when she finally walked in, usually late, hair messy, backpack half-zipped like she had run across campus.And every single time, she acted like his presence barely mattered.Which somehow made him want her attention more.“Move,” she would say, nudging his leg

Kelsey's POV"No." The word shot out of me before Marcus even finished the sentence. My brain registered what he was offering — temporary shelter in his mansion while my life was in garbage bags around my feet — and every single defense mechanism I owned fired at once.Mrs. Vale touched my arm. "Kelsey—""Mom, no." I kept my voice steady even though I could feel my chin threatening to crumple. "We are not accepting charity from him.""It isn't charity," Marcus said from behind me. His voice was even. No smugness, no performance. Just flat, direct calm that somehow made it worse. "Your mom works for my family. It's a practical solution."I turned around and stared at him. He was leaning on his crutches, the sunset behind him like the universe thought this was a movie. He looked uncomfortable in a way I'd never seen before — not embarrassed, not smirking — just genuinely unsure what to do with himself. Which was almost more infuriating than his usual confidence."We'll find a hotel," I

Kelsey's POVI was not catching feelings. I want that stated clearly and on the record. What I was experiencing was a completely rational response to a high-stress environment combined with chronic sleep deprivation and the psychological confusion of having your entire living situation collapse and then be rebuilt inside the home of your academic nemesis. Any sociologist would agree.That's all it was.I kept telling myself this on Friday morning when Marcus showed up to our tutoring session having done — unprompted, unassigned, entirely voluntarily — the next two chapters of work.I stared at his notebook. His handwriting was terrible, but the methodology was right. All of it."You did this yourself?" I asked, because I needed confirmation before I rearranged my entire understanding of him."I had some time after physio," he said, like it was nothing."Your moment diagrams are correct.""I know.""Your beam deflection formula is—""Also correct?"I closed my mouth. He watched me with