Page 79 of Offside Devil

I could wait here and see where the rest of the night takes us. Maybe Zane will come back and pick up where we left off. Maybe I even want him to.

But is one night with him enough reason to blow up everything else?

Because that’s what it would be—that’s what I can guarantee: one night. I have no idea what tomorrow morning would look like. Or the day after. Next week.

Zane will go on being a famous hockey player in a nine-figure contract with a son who deserves everything—but this job is all I have. Without the money Zane is paying me, I can’t even afford to run.

And if I can’t afford to do that, can I afford to get too close?

I know the answer before I even finish thinking the question.

Before Zane comes back out of Aiden’s room, I slip into mine and lock the door.

32

MIRA

I’ve been on the run for almost half of my life.

I lived for years in a house where I didn’t know when or why I’d be beaten, but I knew it was coming. I ducked and dodged shadows from the moment I escaped, scurrying away from city to city whenever I thought the skeletons in my closet had come to life again. When it comes to stress, I’ve experienced more than my fair share.

But nothing has ever set me on edge the way Zane Whitaker can.

It’s been one week since the party—or, as I like to think of it, the night that Zane pinned me against the kitchen counter and destroyed my central nervous system for the rest of time—and I still jump anytime a door opens. Even when I know Zane isn’t home, I rise to full attention at the slightest sound.

His hands on my body—his breath on my skin—set some kind of lingering expectation in me that I can’t seem to shake.

And I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.

The four walls of my room have been witness to the depraved acts of a desperate, horny woman this last week. But all I want is Zane. The real thing. Not fantasies that dissipate the moment I’m almost there.

Which is why, when the door of the condo flies open unexpectedly in the middle of the day, I don’t spiral into a panic and assume my past has finally caught up to me. I whip around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Zane in his sweaty clothes after practice.

I think, He’s home.

Except, he isn’t home.

His assistant, however, saunters into the entryway like she owns the place.

“What are you doing here?” I blurt.

Hanna whips towards the sound of my voice. Aiden and I have been coloring on the floor, so we’re partially hidden behind the chair. Hanna’s face turns white when she spots us.

“Do you need something?” I press. “Zane didn’t mention you were stopping by today.”

Mostly because I haven’t been in a room alone with Zane in a week, but Hanna doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m here for…” Her eyes cast around the room. “I need to pick up his suit for dry cleaning.”

“You just got it dry cleaned.” I end up saying that to Hanna’s back, though, because she’s currently tearing off down the hall.

Aiden is staring up at me, looking every bit as dumbfounded as I feel. I wish I could clarify what the hell is happening here, but I have no clue.

“Um… Stay here, bud. Keep coloring. I’ll be back.”

I tug my phone out of my pocket and fire off a text to Evan. Can you come over? Zane’s assistant is here. She seems… off.

An understatement if ever there was one. I’m at least seventy-three percent sure Hanna was coming here to sniff the underarms of Zane’s dirty t-shirts and swaddle herself in his sheets. I just happened to catch her in the act.

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