Page 68 of Offside Devil

“No!” I wag a finger at her. “No, no. All I care about is working in a peaceful environment. Hanna takes care of all of Zane’s administrative stuff. If she quits, then our schedule falls apart. Plus, Zane will have to use his free time to interview new assistants. It would take away from his time with Aiden. And he needs time with Aiden so that he can feel like a good dad even when he has to leave to go play—Why are you looking at me like that?!”

Taylor is all moony-eyed as she circles a finger around my face. “You are worried about Zane’s work-life balance and his feelings. You don’t care about anyone’s feelings, Mira. Ever.”

“Oh my God. You’re making this into a big thing and it isn’t.”

“So you admit it? You admit that there is something?” she argues. “There has to be something if I can make it into something even bigger, right?”

“This isn’t a riddle. It’s my life. I know how I feel better than you do.”

“Incorrect. I know everything and you are in deep denial. I mean, just admit it.” She leans in and tries to speak quietly, but wine-drunk Taylor severely lacks volume control. “You don’t have to tell me that you love him and want to have his blonde-haired, blue-eyed, hockey-playing babies. But at least admit that you think he’s scrumdiddlyumptious.”

“I will never, ever say that word.”

She shakes my arm and I have to quickly finish my drink before it sloshes all over my lap. “Come on! Admit it!”

When I’m in danger of all the fizzy bubbles in my stomach spewing out of me like a shaken champagne bottle, I throw up my hands. “Fine! Zane is objectively, ridiculously hot, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I have eyeballs and a pulse, therefore I like looking at his symmetrical face and his toned body. Sue me!”

Taylor is giddy and sparkly from all the wine and my confession, but it has nothing on the way she beams when her eyes shift over my shoulder towards the door. Her mouth opens in a silent scream and she grabs my thigh, her freshly-manicured nails digging into my skin.

“Ow! Would you let go of?—”

“Mira?”

Nooo. No. No. No.

This isn’t happening.

I refuse to believe that my life is this cursed.

Then I turn around and the proof of said curse is there in the doorway, filling out a gray pocket tee and jeans like it’s his damn job.

My stomach bottoms out, which must affect the rest of my organs, which must be why my voice comes out all high-pitched and moany and breathy when I finally say, “Yes?”

To his credit, Zane’s face gives nothing away. He looks cool and relaxed. Like someone who is used to hearing compliments just like that one.

“Aiden is looking for a very specific plastic cup for his snack, but I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“It’s the red one with the blue lid. It’s in the dishwasher. Top rack.”

He nods in thanks and gives Taylor a two-finger wave before he ducks back inside just as silently as he arrived.

Once Taylor has a freak-out that involves lots of shoulder shaking and squeaky screaming, I manage to steer her towards safer topics. Like Daniel.

She insists she’s not that into him, and like a good friend, I don’t annoy her into admitting the true feelings I can see swirling just beneath her surface.

Though I definitely should.

And then record it.

And send it to Daniel.

I don’t, though. That’s how good of a friend I am.

By the time Taylor leaves two hours later, I’m flushed on a bit too much wine and a really good day.

Zane was right: I needed this.

I’m padding down the hall to my room, considering breaking in the tub in my ensuite for the first time, when I hear Aiden’s little voice coming through the crack in his door.

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