Page 110 of Offside Angel

I was worried how he’d adjust to Zane and me getting married and the move happening at the same time, but he acts like nothing has changed at all.

In some ways, it hasn’t.

Zane and I still find each other under the blankets most mornings before we stumble to the kitchen for coffee. Then it’s a mad dash of showers and breakfast and shuttling everyone off to practice and school, which takes longer now that we’re in the thick of suburbia.

We still cook together. Aiden chops fruits and vegetables with his plastic knife while Zane and I bicker over the difference between a “simmer” and a “rolling boil.”

In the evenings, we read picture books and take turns making Aiden giggle until he’s too sleepy to keep his eyes open. Zane and I pretend we’re going to start a new show or maybe call some friends, invite people to sit under the lights of the patio, and chat, but we don’t make it past wondering who we should invite before we’re stumbling towards our bedroom.

In other ways, it’s completely different.

Unlike before, where I could hear a countdown clock ticking down the seconds, Zane and Aiden are mine. Forever.

I’m not sure that’s something I’ll ever get used to. I kind of hope I don’t.

“That’s just great,” Zane groans again.

I throw up my hands. “This is the worst game of Marco Polo ever. Where are you?”

“Sunroom.”

I wrinkle my nose. “We have a sunroom?”

“That’s the problem!” I follow the sound of Zane’s voice through the living room to a set of French doors. There’s been a curtain over the glass since we moved in, but it’s pulled back now, revealing a?—

“Sunroom!” I spin in a circle, gaping at the sunlight streaming through the windows onto warm-flecked tiles. “I thought those doors went to the garage or something. How did I not know this was here?”

Probably because I’ve been too busy scaling Mount Neverending Clothes. I haven’t done much exploring. Plus, by the looks of it, this little room wouldn’t be visible from the front of the house. And the wooden trellis along the patio blocks the view of this room from the backyard.

“The doors have been locked since we moved in. I just found the key.”

Zane is wearing his work clothes—a pair of old jeans with a fraying hem and a dark t-shirt—and he still looks like he’s ready for the fine people at GQ to show up any second for a photoshoot. He’s sitting on a pristine-looking wicker couch, a frown tugging on the corners of his mouth.

It’s the same frown he wore the three different times the people from the security system company came out to problem solve why our system keeps failing to arm.

“Someone looks glum.” I walk over to him, stopping between his spread legs. “Is it the security system again?”

“No. It’s that I just found a new room in the house.”

I look around and wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. “You’re going to have to explain this to me real slow because I’m not following. This room is incredible. I might live out here.”

I can already picture fairy lights hanging around the edge of the room, candles glowing on the table in the center. I could curl up on the couch with a book.

“It is incredible. We’ll get a lot of use out of it,” he admits. “The trouble is, we’re going to be late.”

I look at my bare wrist even though I’ve never worn a watch a day in my life. “No, we have hours until we need to leave for the volunteering event. Aiden is still at school.”

This volunteering opportunity is the first team/family event that Zane has invited me to as a newly-minted member of his actual family. I’ve met everyone on the team before, but I still want to make a good first impression as Zane’s wife, even if we aren’t technically announcing that to the press just yet. Being late is not an option.

“Hours?” His hands slide up my thighs, curling around my ass under my sundress. “Oh, then everything is fine.”

I let out a breathless laugh. “The stress of the last week is catching up to you. You’re not making any sense.”

“Then let me make myself clear.” Suddenly, he pulls me onto his lap. My knees settle on either side of his hips. “As you know, I’ve been on a tireless crusade to fuck you in every room of our new house. After finally catching you in the laundry room last night?—”

“Attacking me in the laundry room last night.” I kiss his cheek and reposition, noticing the hard bulge between his legs for the first time. “I was trying to put a load in the washer and you threw me on top of the dryer like an animal.”

“—I thought I’d christened every room, but now, here’s a whole new room that I haven’t touched you in.”

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