Page 77 of Offside Angel

I force a smile on my face. “It’s okay. I just didn’t think anyone was behind me.”

“Makes sense. You’re being a bit of a wallflower.” He kisses my cheek, his stubble scraping over my neck. “A beautiful wallflower. One I’ve been thinking about… plucking? That sounds weird. Sniffing? No, worse.”

I don’t have to fake a laugh now.

“I’ve been thinking about doing whatever sounds sexiest the second we get back home and Aiden has his sugar crash,” he hums against my skin. “How about that?”

Before I can respond, another godforsaken fucking balloon pops, and I yet again.

Davis calls for another shot and then frowns down at his dog. “Who in the hell gave Anita little smokies?”

“Who’s Anita?” Jace asks.

Davis points at the French bulldog on the ground. “Anita Bone, M.D. I introduced you after I adopted her last month.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Dr. Bone is at my son’s birthday party. I tripped on a hole she dug in the grass.”

Davis is denying any and all wrongdoing on behalf of his dog while Jace shows Davis the swelling around his partially rolled ankle, and I’m enjoying the show. But Zane turns me to face him.

“Something is wrong,” he accuses.

“I know.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “Anita didn’t dig that hole. It was Aiden. He used a plastic spoon.”

He shakes his head. “Not with them. With you.”

Instantly, the noise of the party dies down. The world fades away. It has a tendency to do that when Zane is looking at me like this.

I want to deny it, but I know it won’t do any good.

“Something has been wrong for a few days,” he continues. “You think you’re hiding it well, but you aren’t.”

“I don’t even think that. It’s why I’ve been avoiding you. Because I knew you’d get it out of me.” I blow out a breath. “But it’s not you, Zane. It’s not about you or Aiden or… us.”

I should tell him. I should’ve told him the second the note fell out of my duffel bag.

No, I should’ve told him when I opened my locker and found the psychopath’s version of an edible arrangement.

Zane sweeps my hair behind my ear. “I’m not going to force you to talk today. There’s enough security around this party that I know for a fact you’re safe. But eventually…”

“You won’t have to force me. I’ll tell you myself.” I lean against him, my chin raised so I can look into his eyes. “Just… not today.”

I don’t want to pop our happy little bubble until I have to.

I know I’ve never been cared for by anyone the way Zane cares for me. It’s not like there’s been a lot of competition, not even from my own parents. Still, it’s special.

Few people get to be loved by someone like Zane Whitaker. I don’t intend to take it for granted.

“Promise me that, if what you’re hiding is dangerous, you’ll tell someone.” He cradles my face gently. “It doesn’t even have to be me. Just… tell someone.”

I curl my fingers over his. “I promise.”

Later, when Zane is busy making sure the boys don’t accidentally beat each other with sticks instead of the piñata, I keep my promise.

Evan is leaning against the back gate. “Enjoying the party?”

“Oh yeah. Juice boxes and PG-rated covers of songs I used to get hammered to. What’s not to love?” I lean against the fence next to him. “Are you having fun?”

He lifts a shoulder, his eyes shifting from the driveway to the street beyond. “I don’t think I’m being paid to have fun.”

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