Page 55 of Offside Angel

“And me,” Davis adds. “I don’t want to see this, either.”

Nathan snorts. “Right? I’ve never felt more single in my life.”

Slowly, everyone devolves into either making fun of me for being a lovesick puppy or sullenly heading for the locker rooms.

I know some of the team still don’t believe me, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now aside from show up every day and be consistent.

Reeves skates over. “I don't want to be crude, but have you changed your mind about that sleepover? Aiden just asked if he could play with Jalen. I could take Aiden right now and keep him for tonight if you?—”

“Do it.”

My hand tightens on Mira's waist. If I could get everyone out of this arena, I'd throw her down and take her right here.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Reeves bites back a laugh. “I'll bring him home tomorrow morning. Late.” He looks from me to Mira, who is still gazing up at my face. “Maybe after lunch. I'll text you.”

Mira drops her forehead to my chest. “Everyone knows what we're about to do.”

“That explains the jealous looks I'm getting.”

She pokes me in the rib. “Best behavior, Whitaker. Your coach is coming.”

I keep my arm around Mira, but then to face Coach. He looks stern, but his face is back to its normal shade. He sighs. “I should've checked with you before assuming the worst.”

I bite back several smartass comments. “I appreciate that.”

“But if you really were set up, then you need to fix it,” Popov warns. “I’ve had enough of petty jealousy causing drama on my team.”

Carson. He's had enough of Carson.

But I bite that back, too.

I nod. “I’ll take care of it, Coach.”

As soon as he’s gone, Mira fists my jersey. “When are you planning to take care of it? Now or…?”

“Later,” I growl, pulling her close. “Definitely later. Right now, I have plans.”

21

MIRA

“Table, couch, or bed?” Zane asks as soon as we’re through the front door. There’s an urgency in his voice that tells me he wants to get this over with as fast as I do.

“Thai food in bed would be a bad idea,” I decide. Then again, after the torturous car ride, first to the Thai place, and then to the condo, where Zane’s hand kept sliding higher and higher under the hem of my dress, caressing my thigh… I can’t imagine sitting an entire table length away from him. “I vote the living room.”

Sitting on the couch might be detrimental to the eating portion of the night, but I don’t actually care. Then again, couch shenanigans might still involve eating. Just of a very different variety.

He dumps our takeout containers on the coffee table and dishes out spring rolls and pad thai like we’re being timed.

I touch his knee with my fingertips, afraid I won’t be able to stop if there’s any more contact between us. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Your stomach growled,” he grits out.

It really did. Audibly. For a second, we both thought something might be wrong with his car before we realized the growl was coming from the passenger seat.

I was nervous about Aiden’s therapy appointment, so I barely ate breakfast. Then I assumed I’d be going back to the condo afterwards, but we went to the arena instead. It’s been a solid eight hours since I’ve eaten anything more than a protein bar.

I shrug. “Stomachs growl. It’s what they do.”

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