Page 41 of Offside Devil

He wrinkles his nose. “You’ll have to forgive my doubts, but I don’t feel like leaving this situation up to your acting skills.”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see our waitress check her makeup in a silver napkin holder. Then she heads our way, a broad smile spreading across her face that I know is reserved exclusively for Zane.

She’s still halfway across the diner when I sit up. Just like I thought, it doesn’t take much to close the gap between me and Zane.

“What are you doing?” he breathes when I’m only a couple inches away. I’ve never seen him so still.

I curl my hand along his jawline and brush the pad of my thumb over the corner of his mouth. His lips are full and I let myself think about how soft they must be. How they’d feel pressed against my skin. “You have some toothpaste.”

His head turns with the movement of my thumb like he’s chasing my hand, leaning into me.

The waitress is closing in on our table, but the longer I touch Zane, the more my vision is beginning to go fuzzy. The world is narrowing, closing in around this booth. This moment.

This point of contact.

He exhales and his breath is warm against my skin. “Did you get it?”

My attention shifts from his mouth to his eyes, and it’s a mistake. Warning bells ring out in my head when I see the way his pupils have expanded. His bright blue eyes are dark and my breath catches in my throat.

“Not quite.”

I lean in and, just as the waitress returns with our food, I press my lips to the edge of his mouth.

His stubble bristles against my lips. He’s warm and smells like mint and I feel like a starving woman sniffing at a plate of food. It’s not enough.

I want more.

I’m about to do something stupid when a throat clears.

I turn to the waitress and I don’t have to fake my surprise. For a second there, I forgot all about her.

I slide my hand down Zane’s shoulder, tracing his strong arms until my fingers twine through his. Then I pull his hand across the table with me as I drop down into my booth. “Sorry about that.”

Her nostrils are flared and that smile she was working on before she headed our way is long gone. She practically throws our plates on the table and stomps away.

“See?” I say once she’s gone. “I told you I’m a good actress.”

Zane is looking at me so intently, I feel like he’s slicing me open. His throat bobs with a swallow. “It was a good performance.”

His fingers flex around mine. The waitress is back in the kitchen, but we’re still holding hands. When he catches me looking at our intertwined fingers, he snatches his away.

I shovel food into my mouth and mentally flip that sign again. 0 Minutes Since Last Sexually Tense Moment.

I might be a great actress—because, for a second there, I almost believed myself.

18

ZANE

Aiden is crying.

I wasn’t sure at first because of the echo in the arena. It’s just a scrimmage, but Carson’s been barking orders at his team since the moment they skated onto the ice like he thinks he’s General fucking Patton storming Normandy.

I should probably be giving my team a pep talk. The defensemen are both rookies and they’re not moving like a unit. One of them is halfway up the rink while the other is back by the goal, picking his own ass. It’s leaving a massive gap in our defense.

But Aiden is crying.

Now that I’m in the hallway outside the locker rooms as we reset between periods, I can hear his crying coming through the security cameras loud and clear.

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