Page 156 of Offside Devil

“Yeah, I guess it does,” I say.

Owen shoves his hands in his pockets. “Coffee later this week?”

I nod. “Same time, same place.”

He clicks his tongue in agreement, tips his head to Mira, and saunters off down the hallway without another word.

“Unbelievable,” Mira mutters. “He broke into your house, trashed the place, forced you to take a drug test and have a public viewing of our accidental sex tape… yet that was his apology.”

I shrug. “He used to just tell me I probably deserved whatever he’d done and then never speak of it again. Compared to that, this is pretty good progress.”

“To which I say, again: unbelievable.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay? I didn’t know there were cameras up there. I should’ve thought about it, but I—Well, I wasn’t thinking. You were in my jersey and we’d just won. It was a good night. Until everything went to shit.”

Mira stops and grabs my face, holding my cheeks the same way she did in Coach’s office. “I’m okay, Zane. I promise.”

Her eyes are still shadowed, but she looks okay for the first time in days and I want to believe her.

Actually, I want to pin her against the wall and make another accidental sex tape.

Before I can follow through with that mistake, someone clears their throat.

Mira instantly adjusts her dress in a way that makes me think her thoughts were headed in the same direction as mine.

I sigh at the lost opportunity and turn to find Hanna waiting. Her lips are pressed into a thin, white line. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“What are you doing here, Hanna?”

We don’t have practice today and I didn’t tell her I was going to be here.

She blinks. “I got an email this weekend. Pictures. Of you.”

Shit.

Mira hitches a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

Hanna doesn’t look at Mira, but she steps to the side to let her pass.

As soon as Mira is gone, Hanna leans in. “I was going to handle the matter myself, but then I saw the email exchange between you and Coach about this meeting today. I figured it was about the pictures.”

“So you came to, what?” I ask. “Be part of the intervention?”

“No! God, no. I knew the second I opened them that they were fake. I came to tell your coach that.”

“Owen didn’t know. Neither did Coach. How did you?”

She points behind her right ear. “The tattoo. It wasn’t right.”

I’m not even sure how Hanna knew I got a tattoo, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that whoever sent the pictures is clearly not shy about who they send them to. Who knows who else has them sitting in their inbox right now?

“Cancel everything for me today,” I tell her. “No appointments, no press. Leave a message for Hollis and have him call me as soon as he can. We need to prep a press release for when these pictures hit the news.”

Hanna gasps. “You think they’ll make it online?”

Inevitably. If they haven’t already.

“I have to plan for every possibility.”

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