Page 57 of Offside Devil

This asshole. If he was in front of me, I'd jab him in his crystal-clear blue eyes.

“Come on, Mira,” he coaxes. “Say it with me: Thank you, Mr. Whitaker.”

Fuck you, Mr. Whitaker.

Over my dead body, Mr. Whitaker.

“I can take care of Aiden on my own!” Devil knows I've been taking care of myself long enough. “I wanted to get us out of the house. Do something normal. Being followed around by a planet-sized human isn't anything close to ‘normal’!”

“Neither is being the son of a famous athlete,” he spits. “You seem to be confused about the nature of your job, so let me clear up any confusion: you're not being paid to second-guess my decisions. You're being paid to take care of Aiden. I just made that job even easier for you by hiring a driver and protection. Once again, you're welcome.”

I've never exactly been a big fan of other people. In my experience, humans leave you—if you’re lucky. If you’re not, they stick around long enough to fuck you up beyond repair.

But no one—and I mean absolutely no one—has ever ground my gears the way Zane Whitaker can.

I grip the phone so tightly my fingers are going numb. “What about your fake girlfriend, huh? Does she get to have an opinion? You're paying me for that little chore, too, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. Every fucking day,” he mutters. “And the answer is no. I'm paying you to smile and look good on my arm when the people who matter are looking.”

If steam could come out of my ears, I'd be whistling like a teapot right now. I'm vibrating with a million nasty things I want to say to Mr. fucking Whitaker.

But before I can settle on which one I want to spew first, the line goes dead.

“He hung up on me,” I breathe, double-checking just to make sure. “He actually hung up on me.”

Asshole.

Scumbag.

Pompous, good-for-nothing puck-for-brains.

I squeeze my eyes closed, take a deep breath that doesn’t do shit to calm me down, and turn to face my new bodyguard.

He’s standing at the bumper of the car with Aiden next to him. Aiden is typically shy around new people, but he already seems comfortable with Evan. It might have something to do with the fact that Evan doesn’t look like any normal person. He has a broad, beaming smile and hands as big as catcher’s mitts. He’s a cartoon bear brought to life.

Somewhere deep down, I admit that Zane might have done a good job selecting this one.

I slap on a thin smile. “Is everybody ready? Great. Let’s go.”

We’ve only been driving a few minutes when Even peeks into the rearview mirror at me. “You’re sure everything is okay, ma’am?”

“Positive. I’m fine. Mr. Whitaker and I just had a… disagreement.”

“Over me?” he guesses with a wry smile. “It’s fine. I know it was about me.”

I sigh. “It’s nothing personal, Evan. Really.”

“I was a little nervous about being hired on retainer like this. I’ve never had a semi-permanent client before. I’ve also never been called a ‘planet’ before,” he muses, catching my eye in the mirror. “It’s a big day for new experiences.”

I sink down in my seat, wishing I could melt into the immaculately clean creases between the leather. “Evan, I am so, so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hear that. I shouldn’t have said it in the first place. I was just upset and?—”

He waves a hand for me to stop. “I took it as a compliment. If you keep apologizing, then I might start getting offended.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Okay, I won’t apologize anymore. But can you turn the child lock off? I want to throw myself into traffic.”

A deep, warm laugh rumbles out of his barrel chest. “If you want me to keep my job, you’ll stay in that seat.”

Ten minutes ago, I didn’t want Evan to keep this job.

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