Page 115 of Offside Devil

But not answering her question feels more damning than explaining things at this point.

“I’m Aiden’s nanny, but I’m also pretending to be Zane’s girlfriend when CPS comes around. I’m already there all the time, so it’s… it’s just about convenience. But don’t tell anyone,” I blurt, lurching forward so fast I almost slosh juice onto the white wool rug. “Not that it’s a secret or anything, but it’s…”

“Complicated. Copy that.” She hums. “I don’t know if I could explain this to someone even if I wanted to. You’re Aiden’s nanny, but you’re also fake dating Zane while simultaneously having real sex with him.”

“I mean, it’s not all happening simultaneously,” I mumble. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it. Yes.”

She whistles and taps a fingernail against the side of her glass. “If we weren’t on kid duty, this conversation would call for something stronger than juice.” She blows out a heavy breath. “What do you make of all of it? Do you like him?”

I snort. “You weren’t kidding about being efficient.”

“Guilty as charged. My first agent called me ‘brutally blunt’ and told me I’d need to learn to put on a pretty smile and stay quiet if I wanted to book jobs. I told him he was an asshole and fired him on the spot. Come to think of it, though, he might’ve been onto something.”

I barely know Jemma. We talked for ten minutes total at the opening day party and I haven’t seen her since, but she’s refreshingly honest. She says what she’s thinking and I trust her.

Also, I might be emotionally constipated and the look of sincere interest in her almond-shaped eyes is the metaphorical enema I need.

“I think it’s impossible to spend any amount of time with Zane and Aiden and not fall in love with them both.” I run my finger over the rim of my glass. “Being a dad was dumped in his lap, but he’s so good at it. He cares so much. He could have a real girlfriend in a second if he wanted one, but he asked me to help him out because he wants to focus on Aiden.”

Jemma doesn’t quite manage to swallow down a laugh. “I don’t think that worked out so well for him since you two are… well, you know.”

“It’s not like that, though. Zane is—We are—” I stop and shrug helplessly. “We like being around each other, but Aiden is still his first priority.”

Jemma raises her hands in surrender. “Fine. Say what you want, but Reeves was in the locker room when Carson dropped all of this on everyone. He said he’s never seen Zane look as pissed as he did when Carson told everyone Zane was—and I quote—‘fucking his nanny.’” She scowls as deeply as she can with what I suspect is a normal-for-a-professional-model amount of Botox injected into her various would-be wrinkles. “They had to pin Zane against the wall to keep him from kicking Carson’s ass.”

My stomach flutters, but I shove it down quickly. “He was probably just embarrassed to have all of his dirty laundry aired. Not that Aiden is dirty laundry, but… you know what I mean. He’s a private person.”

She arches a brow. “Zane told Carson to ‘keep my family out of your mouth.’ That doesn’t sound like his issue was privacy. It sounds like he was defending both of you.”

And it sounds to me like things with Zane are getting more complicated by the second.

There’s a reason I’ve lived in a dozen states and Taylor is the only person I stay in touch with. I don’t make connections or friends. That’d just mean more people to leave behind when it’s time for me to go. More people to lie to about my past and where I came from—who I come from.

Zane is calling me his family in front of his teammates, and he doesn’t even know me. Not really.

Not the important parts.

“Okay, I can tell by the crease in your forehead that I’m freaking you out.” Jemma leans back in her chair. “Sorry. We can end the interrogation.”

“You weren’t interrogating me. It’s fine.”

That’s only a partial lie. I’m not fine, but that’s not Jemma’s fault. I don’t just have baggage—I have enough unprocessed childhood trauma to fill a baggage claim carousel. That comes with its fair share of triggers.

One of which just happens to be caring for and/or being cared for by another person.

Zane calling me family, Aiden holding me hand on the elevator ride down to the parking garage this morning—hell, even Jemma talking to me like she actually cares about my life… All of it just drives home how many roots I’ve put down here.

And how much harder it’s going to be to yank them up when it’s time for me to run again.

Jemma nods, looking out the window as she takes a sip of juice. We lapse into silence for thirty seconds before she whips back to me.

“Last thing, I swear, and then I’ll be done,” she says. “I was around when Zane was with Paige and it was a shitshow. He fell into a deep hole and things got dark. It took ages for him to climb out. The fact that he is close to you and letting you in… it means something. He may not admit it, but I’m telling you, it does. You mean something to him, Mira. Reeves and all of the guys are glad to see it. I am, too.”

God, so many roots.

I don’t know what to say, so I just smile. “Thanks, Jemma.”

Suddenly, the backdoor crashes open, making us both jump. Jalen and Aiden run in, tracking mud behind them.

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