Page 2 of Offside Angel

It’s not Mira.

“Where is she?” I growl. Hope is curdling in my chest, but I ignore it. I have to.

The guy flings a hand at the woman in front of him. “She’s right fucking here. What do you mean? Who are you?—”

“Dark hair,” I spit. “A woman with long, dark hair. She was staying here.”

He frowns for a fraction of a second. Then there’s recognition. His eyes go wide. “I didn’t touch her. She wasn’t here for me. She left as soon as we got here.”

When I saw Mira from the parking lot, I thought she was walking back to her room. She was moving this direction…

I don’t wait for more of an explanation—I hurtle through the gaping door and turn for the stairs.

I pound down the metal staircase and leap from the fourth step, landing hard on the concrete. Jace would yell at me to be careful. I’ve been flaky the last couple weeks; the last thing I need is to tear my ACL and let Carson finish out this season on a high. He’d win the captain spot for sure.

Not that I give an ounce of a flying fuck about that now.

I sprint down the length of the building and take a hard right towards the front office.

And there she is.

She’s standing under the glowing security light stationed next to the front door. It’s the only working light in the entire lot. She might as well be on a stage. Her back is to me, but it’s her. Dark hair, long legs. Just like the P.I. said.

My woman.

Taylor told me Mira would come back if she wanted to. “She disappears and pops back up all the time. Just give her some space.”

“Or you can let her go,” Daniel suggested once Taylor was out of earshot. “You have Aiden and yourself to think about. No one would blame you for moving on.”

How about option three?

I angle across the parking lot at a breakneck pace.

She hears the gravel under my feet and starts to turn as I grab her shoulder and whip her around.

“I found you,” I pant, at the exact same time that this woman I definitely do not know screams in my face.

“Get off of me!” she shrieks, flailing until I let go and stumble back. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Her hair is dark, but up close, it’s thin and greasy and tangled. She’s either lived a hard life or she’s twenty years older than Mira, at least. Probably both.

It’s not her and I should’ve known from several football fields away, but I saw what I wanted to see.

I saw Mira.

“I-I’m sorry.” I hold up my hands in surrender, but quickly lower them when she flinches away. “I thought you were?—”

The woman is shaking. The man behind the front desk is staring out at us, his hand resting on the phone.

I could explain myself, but it doesn’t matter. I just turn around and walk away.

As soon as I come through the door, Daniel is there. He doesn’t ask, but I feel the question burning inside of him.

“It wasn’t her,” I grumble, shuffling to the fridge. “Obviously.”

I’ve spent so many hours on the road the last two weeks that the fridge is almost empty. Jemma offered to pick Aiden and Jalen up from preschool and take them back to her house. Most days, she feeds Aiden dinner, too.

I haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t a protein shake or from a takeout container in weeks.

---