Page 182 of Offside Devil

I level her with a glare. “Even if that was true—which I’m not saying it is—I can’t do anything about it. Rubbing my nose in it isn’t nice.”

“Neither is rotting away on my sofa and eating all of my favorite snacks.”

I open my mouth to defend myself, but nothing comes out. It’s hard when I’m surrounded by all of the evidence Taylor could use against me.

There’s an empty chocolate-covered raspberry bag on the coffee table next to a half-full pint of caramel churro ice cream. I have an ice cream drip down my shirt from when it melted two hours ago and I started drinking it.

I’m big enough to admit that things have taken a bleak turn the last few days.

Taylor sighs and drops down onto the sofa next to me. “I love you, Mira. You know that. But sometimes, loving someone means dragging them off the couch and prying the high-quality snacks out of their hands.”

“To do what?” I grumble pathetically.

“Changing your clothes would be a good start,” she suggests. “Showering is another option.”

I glare at her. “Something that isn’t just about me being smelly, please.”

“Okay.” She thinks for a second. “You could call Zane like the adult you are and ask him how Aiden is doing.”

I shake my head so hard my cheeks jiggle. “No. Nope. Definitely not. No.”

I can still hear his voice ringing in my ears as it is; I don’t need a refresher course. The sooner I forget him, the sooner I can gather the strength to put on real pants.

“Glad to see you’re going to handle this with maturity.”

Taylor starts to get up, but I latch onto her arm. She yelps as she falls back onto the couch. “You could call him for me!” I plead. “Just call Zane and tell him you’re checking in on Aiden. He’ll talk to you.”

She jerks her arm away and stands up, brushing herself off like I have leprosy. “I’ll have you know, I already sent a bouquet of condolence flowers while Aiden was in the hospital. I’ve done what good etiquette requires and my hands are clean.”

“Next time you’re in the hospital, I’ll be sure to send one bouquet of flowers.” I narrow my eyes. “I’m sure you won’t be mad at me since I did what ‘good etiquette requires.’”

She snorts. “You’re just mad because I’m not doing your dirty work for you. I let you sleep in my guest room and crash on my couch—even though you still have an apartment of your own.”

I want to point out that my apartment doesn’t even have a couch, but that would mean losing the longest-running argument Taylor and I have. She’d yank me off of her sofa and have me scouring a furniture store for a living room set before the sound waves of her “I told you so” could even touch my eardrums.

Instead, I cross my arms and sink lower between the cushions. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

“I get that, Mimi. I do. Believe me. But I think the time has come to figure out what comes next.”

That used to be what I was best at. Thinking several steps ahead was a reflex. I didn’t do anything without an exit plan and three options waiting in the wings.

Now, I try to imagine my life tomorrow… next week… and there’s nothing. Nothing at all.

A future without Zane and Aiden in it feels impossible.

I drop my face in my hands. “I don’t know what comes next.”

“Sit up.” Taylor wraps her manicured hands around my wrists and pulls me to the edge of the couch. “Come on, Mimi. We’re going to do an exercise.”

“I can’t exercise. I’m not even wearing a bra.”

She rolls her eyes. “An exercise. We’re going to talk through hypotheticals, okay? So, first hypothetical: Zane knocks on the door right now and comes to apologize. What do you do?”

“Fling myself out of your window.”

She drops her chin, unamused. “Seriously.”

“I would seriously fling myself out of your window.” I glance down at myself. “You’re being judgmental, but you’re not wrong. I look insane.”

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