Page 43 of Offside Angel

I’m the person I swore to myself I’d never be again.

I close my eyes and cling to the phone like my life depends on it. “I’m scared, Zane.”

“I know,” he breathes. “You have no idea how much I wish I could—Fuck, if I could take all of this shit away from you, Mira, I would. I would. But, I can’t.”

“It’s not yours to take away.”

“But you’re mine. Which is why I made damn sure that cafe was safe before you stepped foot inside. Evan is out front with a view of the entrance and the back exit is locked.”

“You… you did?” I breathe. “It is?”

“I wasn’t going to let you walk in there without being positive you were safe. I wouldn’t ever put you at risk, Mira. Ever.”

Tears pour down my cheeks, and I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve cried in the last couple weeks. Once the floodgates open, they are awfully hard to close. “I did this for seven years. I don’t know why it’s different now. I don’t know why?—”

Zane’s words from the other night echo in my head.

You showed up and gave me something to lose.

The reason I ran from my brother for seven years without turning into a basket case is because, on some level, I didn’t care if he found me. I had no friends, no family, nothing holding me in any one place. I was a ghost.

Now, I have all of that and more. I have a life to lose. A life I desperately want to keep.

And it’s fucking terrifying.

The confession lodges in my throat. If Zane wanted me to give him one truth right now that’s the only one that would rush out.

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask.

“We can do this however you want,” he says evenly. “If this is too much and you want Evan to drive you home, he will. But if you think you can handle it?—”

“I can handle it,” I choke out.

I need to be able to handle this. If I cower in the shadows, Dante wins.

“That’s my girl.” I can practically hear his smile through the phone. “Try to have fun. You deserve it.”

17

MIRA

“We’re really cranking it up to eleven.” I barely resist chaining myself to the bumper of Evan’s SUV as I watch hordes of people stream into the many, many exits of the outdoor mall in front of us. “Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead. Lunch was a success.”

“Success” might be a stretch, considering I spent ten minutes crying on the floor of what turned out to be the men’s restroom. But, after that, I sat, I ate, I didn’t hyperventilate.

So, yeah. Success.

“Nuh-uh.” Taylor squeezes my cheek. “Say it with me: Vitamin D. This counts as our walk today.”

“Bit public for a walk. Ever heard of a park?” I ask.

I’m not sure I’d trust any place with too many trees, though. I also don’t want to be completely exposed.

Okay, maybe Zane should just rent out a gym with a walking track and I’ll become a mole person who doesn’t require sunlight.

“Have you ever heard of Lululemon?” Jemma bumps my hip. “I need new yoga pants. All of mine are worn out in the bum. It looks like I have a saggy diaper.”

I doubt it. Jemma has never looked anything other than photo ready and she knows it. She’s just being nice.

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