Offside Hearts

Maya pressed the key into the rusty lock and jiggled it like the landlord instructed. The door groaned open, announcing her arrival to the tiny apartment she could barely afford. New place, new school, new life. Zero football boys. That was the promise.

Her suitcase wheels scraped across the tile as she stepped inside. The air smelled like old paint and fresh hope. She could work with that.

She dropped onto the couch. A weak spring poked her thigh through the cushion, like the furniture itself was judging her choices.

“Perfect,” she muttered.

For the first time in weeks, silence wrapped around her. No screaming fans from her sister’s football matches. No teasing comments about how she always fell for the wrong boys in the right jerseys. No reminders of the one who cheated during exams… and relationships.

She dug her phone from her pocket. One unread message from her best friend, Kate.

Don’t fall in love with anyone who knows how to keepy-uppy. I’m begging.

Maya rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.

Then a loud thud came from the neighboring apartment. Followed by a curse. Then a second thud, louder. The wall behind her couch shook once.

Thunk.

“Owww, what the hell,” a deep voice muttered.

She froze. Male voice. Of course.

She waited. Silence.

She should ignore it. She had boundaries now. Brick walls. Emotional helmets.

Thunk.

This time she stood up. “Are you okay?” she called through the wall.

A beat of silence. Then:

“That obvious?”

The voice carried a hint of laughter. Not cocky. Just amused. Which was somehow worse.

“You sound like you’re losing a fight,” she said.

“I am. With a box. The box is currently winning three–nil.”

Maya snorted. She clapped a hand over her mouth like the wall could tattle.

“Need help?” she asked before her brain caught up.

Great. On the first day, she was offering assistance to a stranger with a voice like melted temptation.

“Nah. Unless you know how to assemble furniture without instructions?”

“Nope. I usually threaten the screws until they cooperate.”

He laughed. Low and warm.

“That might actually work,” he said.

She caught herself smiling again. Dangerous.

A knock at her door interrupted the moment. She walked over, tugging it open. A tall guy with messy curls and a boxy jersey leaned against the frame, one eyebrow raised like he knew something she didn’t.

It was the neighbor.

And the jersey?

Her heart stumbled.

No. No. No.

“I’m Leo,” he said, offering a smile that felt like a dare.

As in Leo Knight.

As in the exact type her new life forbade.

She almost shut the door in the universe’s face.

“Maya,” she replied cautiously.

“Nice to meet you, Maya.” He glanced over her shoulder at the couch. “Lost the battle too?”

“A spring attacked me, yes.”

His grin widened. “Wild furniture around here.”

She swallowed. “Did you… Need something?”

He lifted a screw between two fingers. “Just wanted to borrow a screwdriver, before I accept defeat and move back home.”

Her brain yelled Run. Her heart whispered Stay a little.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll find one.”

Leo leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. His eyes scanned her face, curious. Interested. Way too interested.

“So,” he said lightly. “New in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Any rules I should know about? I’m great at breaking them.”

The joke hit too close.

She met his gaze squarely. “Rule one. No football boys.”

Leo blinked. Then his smile turned slow and dangerous, like he loved a challenge.

“That sounds like a rule made for me to break.”

Maya’s pulse betrayed her. She stepped back, forcing the door half shut between them.

“Borrow the screwdriver,” she warned, “not my heart.”

His laugh followed her inside.

Maya squeezed her eyes shut. On the first day, she was already offside.

This was going to be a long season.