Page 26 of Offside Devil

I happily hang up on my best friend and answer Zane’s call. “Hello?”

“Come back. Right now.”

Maybe Taylor was onto something. Maybe he is missing me.

“My contract doesn’t start until Monday,” I remind him warily. “Don’t you have a personal assistant you can call?”

“Hanna can’t help with this. I need you.”

I do my very best not to read more into those words than there is. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is…” His voice trails off and the silence becomes answer enough. “How soon can you be back here? We need to talk.”

Am I being fired already?

Is something wrong with Aiden?

DOES HE ACTUALLY MISS ME?

I squash down the panicked, frantic voice in my head and take a deep breath. “I’m only a few minutes away. I can turn around and head back.”

“Good. Hurry.”

I manage to stay on my feet when Zane opens the door the second time, but it’s still jarring.

He’s tall. And big. And handsome. I mentally add those to the list of adjectives that can describe Zane Whitaker.

But something in his eyes is wrong.

“Everything okay?”

He looks up and down the hallway like there might be a spy lurking in the corner before he drags me inside by the crook of my elbow. “We need to talk.”

“About what? I was just here talking to you for almost an hour.” He lets me go, but my arm tingles where he touched me.

“Yeah, and then you left, shit happened, and now, we need to renegotiate.”

The living room is empty. Everything in the apartment looks just as shiny, sleek, and expensive as it did when I left. “Is Aiden okay?”

“He’s fine. For now.”

“Why would you say that? ‘For now’? That’s ominous.”

He points to the couch. “Just sit down.”

“I’d rather stand.” It’s easier to flee when I’m already on my feet. “Is Aiden fine or not?”

Zane paces back and forth in front of me. He tugs a hand through his blonde hair and I don’t think I know him well enough to see this side of him yet. I haven’t even signed the NDA. Does knowing that he has a dimple in his right cheek that only shows up when he’s frowning count as a trade secret?

Finally, he stops, pivoting every broad inch of himself to face me. “Aiden is going to be fine. I’m going to make sure he is fine. Which is why I need your help.”

“As his nanny?”

“Not quite.” There’s that dimple again. It’s starting to worry me. “I may or may not have told a government official that you’re my girlfriend.”

I’m neither rested nor caffeinated enough to process that.

“Maybe I should have sat down,” I mumble.

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