17. Mira
17
MIRA
Too few hours later, I wake up to three loud knocks.
There’s drool crusted to the corner of my mouth and my eyelids are still sealed shut when I yank the door open.
“Mrph?” I grumble. It’s too early to form actual words.
“Nice jammies.”
The deep, satin-y curl of his voice is a lightning bolt down my spine. All at once, I come awake and alive. My eyes snap open and I have a few stunned seconds to register that I’m once again standing in front of Zane Whitaker in nothing but my underwear.
I yelp and dive behind the door, using it like a shield.
“Save the modesty act. I’ve already seen you in less,” he drones, sounding bored.
“Barely!” Technically, he’s right. When we met, I had on black lace panties and nothing else. For humiliation round two, I’m also wearing a bra.
“I appreciate your commitment to the bit, but I don’t think seeing you walk around the condo in that is going to convince Peter Morris I’m not a playboy. Plus, you should cover up for the kid’s sake.”
I peek around the edge of the door and scowl at him. “I couldn’t find the box I packed my pajamas in. This is all I had.”
“You could have asked me. I would have let you borrow something.”
So Zane’s wintergreen fresh scent could leak into my dreams? Ha! No way.
“I’m sorry—is there a reason you’re knocking on my door first thing in the morning?”
Maybe he’s rethinking last night. Maybe he’s back to finish what he started before he decided to be “smart” and walk away.
“Breakfast,” he says simply, scattering my thoughts.
“I’m familiar with the concept.”
He sighs irritably. “Aiden and I are leaving for breakfast in half an hour. You can come with us. If you want.”
“Oh.” As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. I’m starving. I was too busy hiding in my room last night to go find something for dinner. All I ate was the remnants of a protein bar from the bottom of my purse. “Am I going as your fake girlfriend or Aiden’s nanny?”
Zane considers it for a second. “Both. It’ll be good practice for being seen together. As a bonus, you can get to know Aiden.”
I want to say no. I planned on a Zane-free twenty-four hours for my last day before work officially starts. I was going to unpack, dodge all contact with him, and spend the alone time reminding myself why I took this gig and why I can’t afford to fuck it up by… well, fucking it up.
But my stomach is on the verge of consuming itself and I should probably spend some time with Aiden before we embark on eight straight hours together tomorrow.
“I need to shower first.”
Zane nods. “We can wait.”
He’s halfway down the hallway when I lean through the door to call after him. “Wait. Where are we going? I need to know what to wear.”
He turns around and his eyes drop. All at once, I realize how far I’m leaning through the door. And how easily he can see directly down my bra.
I yank myself back into my room, only my eyes peeping around the frame.
“More than you’re wearing now.” Zane sounds a little strangled. “Just hurry up.”
I double-check my door is locked and hurl myself into the shower like the water might have memory-erasing powers. Like I might be able to magically undo the last ten minutes of my life.
Okay, so day one of steering clear of Zane and focusing on the task at hand is not off to the best start, but I can hit refresh. I flip my mental sign back to “ 0 Days Since Last Sexually Tense Moment ” and promise to do better.
I dig through four boxes of unorganized chaos before I settle on a red sundress with a white tee underneath. Zane didn’t give me any hint of where we’re going, but I looked him up online and I saw how many zeroes were on the end of his contract with the Angels. If a casual breakfast for him involves valet service and Michelin stars, I’ll slip the tee shirt off, swap my sneakers for the flats I’m throwing in my purse, and blam-o , instant elegance.
I’m the Bear Grylls of fashion: Adapt. Improvise. Overcome.
Zane and Aiden are waiting in the living room when I’m ready. Aiden is holding onto his Spiderman water bottle like he’s afraid it will disappear if he lets it go.
“Good morning, Aiden!” I chirp, giving him a squishy-faced smile.
He quickly looks down at his light-up shoes, but I swear he’s smiling, too.
Zane snatches his keys off the coffee table and turns to the door without looking at me. “Let’s go.”
I expect to take the elevator down to the parking garage, but Zane pushes the button for the main level. We walk through the lobby and onto the sidewalk. It’s early, but the day is already warm. I’m glad I opted for the dress over jeans.
“We’re walking?” I puff. I have to take two steps for each one of Zane’s to keep up. When I’m basically at a jog, I give up and slip back into Aiden’s slower pace.
“You didn’t cite ‘keen power of observation’ as one of your skills,” he drawls over his shoulder. “You undersold yourself.”
Zane is not a morning person. Noted.
I stay quiet until, two blocks later, Zane comes to a stop in front of a dinky corner diner. A weathered sign above the door reads Cam’s.
“Here?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice.
Zane waves me in with an impatient hand. “Once again, nothing gets past you, Mira.”
I stomp through the door and into a diner that clearly hasn’t been renovated since the Seventies. Dusty fake plants hang from the walls and the air smells like the cigarette smoke of decades gone by.
It’s not until we’re all three standing in the doorway that I realize I’m out in public with Zane Whitaker. At the condo, he’s my boss and the star of my frequent, uncontrollable fantasies.
But out here? He’s a famous hockey star.
I expect all eyes to be on us, but the middle-aged hostess barely even looks up as she passes three vinyl menus to Zane over the beat-up podium. “Seat yourself, dears. We’ll be around to take your order.”
Zane grabs Aiden’s hand and leads him to a corner booth. I follow behind, trying to quash the butterflies that flutter in my stomach at the way Zane helps Aiden into the booth and gets him settled with crayons and a coloring book he pulls out of his backpack.
“Do you two do this a lot?” I ask.
“Only when we get sick of cereal for breakfast. I’m not the best cook.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a personal chef like Taylor. The only reason I touch all my food groups every week is because Taylor feeds me her leftovers.”
I wouldn’t usually tell a man I’m interested in that I eat like Buddy the Elf when left to my own devices—but then again, I’m not interested in Zane. At all.
“I never felt like I needed one. I ate out a lot before. But now…” He glances at Aiden. “I don’t like taking him out in public too much. It can be a lot.”
It’s easy for me to sympathize with Aiden. I know what it’s like to lose a parent and be forced to grow up all in one day.
What I keep forgetting, though, is that Zane’s life was just thrown into chaos, too.
“How many people know about the… ‘situation’?” I ask, tipping my head towards Aiden. “Do you have to worry about being spotted with a kid?”
“I’m keeping it under wraps for now, but that’s why we come here. Everyone is a regular and they don’t give a shit who I am. All they want is bacon and free coffee refills.”
One glance around the restaurant tells me we are the only people in here not getting the senior discount today.
“Is that why you brought me here? Because no one will see us together?”
Zane grabs the carafe of coffee on the edge of the table. He fills my mug and then his, taking his time. He wordlessly offers me a pink packet of sugar, but leaves his black. Finally, he looks up at me and I realize it’s the first time he’s met my eyes since I opened my door this morning.
My heart does a stupid jump in my chest.
“I brought you here because I thought you might be hungry and I don’t have shit to eat in my fridge. And, as my girlfriend, you should know my favorite breakfast spot.”
Girlfriend. I’m Zane’s girlfriend.
It’s not real, but that doesn’t stop my heart from breaking into a full-on gallop.
My panic is interrupted when a woman our age strolls up to the table, paper and pen in hand. She winks at Zane. “My name is Alicia. I’ll be your waitress today. What can I get you started with, sweetheart?”
Zane orders silly face pancakes and chocolate milk for Aiden and chicken fried steak for himself.
“You have great taste,” Alicia says in a half-moan. “That’s my favorite thing on the menu. It’s huge, so I can never finish it, but for a big man like you? It’ll be perfect.”
“A big man like you”? Is she for real?
Based on the sparkle in her eyes and the way she’s all but licking her pink-painted lips, I think she’s very serious.
I clear my throat. “I’ll have the veggie omelet and a side of pancakes.”
The waitress nods, barely looking in my direction. She leans further than necessary across the table to gather up the menus, her hand lingering near where Zane’s is resting on the table.
He’s not really my boyfriend, but that doesn’t stop jealousy from splashing up the walls of my chest like acid. Is this what his life is like all the time? Women throwing themselves at him?
“Okay.” Zane clasps his hands together as soon as the waitress is gone and stoops across the booth towards me. He’s so tall that he’s almost halfway across the table and I have the insane thought that it wouldn’t take much more to be within kissing distance. “Do you have any family?”
“What?”
“Family,” he explains slowly. “The humans related to you by blood, birth, or legal proceeding. Do you have any?”
I shake my head. “What are you doing?”
“Some people would call it ‘getting to know each other.’ I call it ‘rapid-fire questions so CPS doesn’t find out we’re lying.’ It only works if you cooperate.” He snaps his fingers. “Answer the question.”
“Pass.”
His brows pinch together. “Shitty childhood, then?”
I swipe the question out of the air. “Pass.”
“Am I supposed to pretend you just sprang fully formed from the earth like an orc, or what?”
“You like Lord of the Rings . That’s good to know.”
“Daniel made me watch all of the movies with him when he was in the hospital.” He lowers his chin and jabs a finger at me. “You’re uncomfortable talking about yourself. That’s also good to know. Annoying, though.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “We don’t need to get to know each other; we just need to fool the government. If you need some in-depth backstory for me, feel free to write one up. I’ll memorize it.”
“A lie is always more believable when there’s a kernel of truth. I need to know something that’s real.” He checks to make sure Aiden is involved in his coloring before he drops his voice. “Knowing there’s a tattoo of a bird on your right hip doesn’t count.”
My mouth flops open. I might as well be sitting here stark naked because I feel exposed. I wrap my hands around my mug and take a scalding sip. “I don’t think they’re going to quiz us on each other’s freckles.”
“If they do, I’ve got you beat.”
“Are you planning to balance the scales? I showed you mine. Only seems fair that you show me yours.” I mean it to come out snarky, but as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize it’s an invitation.
Show me your sculpted body, Zane. Let’s get naked.
“Is that what it takes to get you to share something about yourself? Do you need a reward?”
Eject. Retreat. Emergency brakes and abandon ship.
“I don’t need anything. Like I said, make something up. I’m a good actress. It’ll be like… like improv.”
He wrinkles his nose. “You’ll have to forgive my doubts, but I don’t feel like leaving this situation up to your acting skills.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see our waitress check her makeup in a silver napkin holder. Then she heads our way, a broad smile spreading across her face that I know is reserved exclusively for Zane.
She’s still halfway across the diner when I sit up. Just like I thought, it doesn’t take much to close the gap between me and Zane.
“What are you doing?” he breathes when I’m only a couple inches away. I’ve never seen him so still.
I curl my hand along his jawline and brush the pad of my thumb over the corner of his mouth. His lips are full and I let myself think about how soft they must be. How they’d feel pressed against my skin. “You have some toothpaste.”
His head turns with the movement of my thumb like he’s chasing my hand, leaning into me.
The waitress is closing in on our table, but the longer I touch Zane, the more my vision is beginning to go fuzzy. The world is narrowing, closing in around this booth. This moment.
This point of contact.
He exhales and his breath is warm against my skin. “Did you get it?”
My attention shifts from his mouth to his eyes, and it’s a mistake. Warning bells ring out in my head when I see the way his pupils have expanded. His bright blue eyes are dark and my breath catches in my throat.
“Not quite.”
I lean in and, just as the waitress returns with our food, I press my lips to the edge of his mouth.
His stubble bristles against my lips. He’s warm and smells like mint and I feel like a starving woman sniffing at a plate of food. It’s not enough.
I want more.
I’m about to do something stupid when a throat clears.
I turn to the waitress and I don’t have to fake my surprise. For a second there, I forgot all about her.
I slide my hand down Zane’s shoulder, tracing his strong arms until my fingers twine through his. Then I pull his hand across the table with me as I drop down into my booth. “Sorry about that.”
Her nostrils are flared and that smile she was working on before she headed our way is long gone. She practically throws our plates on the table and stomps away.
“See?” I say once she’s gone. “I told you I’m a good actress.”
Zane is looking at me so intently, I feel like he’s slicing me open. His throat bobs with a swallow. “It was a good performance.”
His fingers flex around mine. The waitress is back in the kitchen, but we’re still holding hands. When he catches me looking at our intertwined fingers, he snatches his away.
I shovel food into my mouth and mentally flip that sign again. 0 Minutes Since Last Sexually Tense Moment.
I might be a great actress—because, for a second there, I almost believed myself.