40. Zane

40

ZANE

There isn't a shower in the world cold enough for the dream I had last night. It was late and I was alone in my room. Mira came in wearing the barely-there black dress I saw in her shopping bag the other day. She didn't say a word as she crawled across the bed to me and straddled my hips. My cock hardened instantly.

Just like it's doing now.

I slap a hand against the shower wall and grit my teeth. I don't have time for this.

Forget time—I don't have the fucking stamina for this. Not if I'm expected to walk out the door in the next half-hour and go to conditioning. Every time I think I've got myself under control, Mira pops into my head and I'm back where I started: rock-hard and helpless.

I haven't felt like this since I was a teenager.

Then again, I haven't gone without sex this long since I was a teenager, either.

I wrap my hand around myself and go back to the dream.

Mira lifting her dress and sliding her panties to the side.

Mira lowering herself onto my cock.

Mira.

Mira.

Mira.

I'm so fucking close that I don't realize I'm chanting her name under my breath until I hear the familiar squeal of the bathroom door opening.

"Zane?"

No .

I whip around and Mira is standing in the doorway, eyes so wide I can see the green in them even through the foggy shower glass.

"What the fuck, Mira?"

She slaps a hand over her eyes and her cheeks turn violently red. "I'm sorry! I thought—I knocked!"

"I didn't hear you."

The question is, Did she hear me?

"But you said my name."

Shit .

I scramble for an explanation, but it's going to be hard to explain this away. Especially if she could see me even half as well as I could see her. It would've been tough to miss the erection I was sporting.

The erection I'm still sporting, actually. I'm naked and the object of my dirty dream is standing in the room with me. My dick doesn't see a single problem with this situation at all.

"It doesn't matter," Mira says before I can come up with anything. "You need to get out of the shower right now."

"What's wrong?" I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my waist. "Is Aiden okay?"

"He's fine. Aiden is okay. But?—"

"I'm decent," I tell her. Her hand is still clamped over her eyes. It's putting a distracting amount of emphasis on her lips.

She peeks through her fingers, and the flush spreading down her neck says she would disagree with me. She locks her eyes on the corner of the bathroom ceiling. "CPS is here."

God, can this morning get any worse?

"Who is it? Is it Jodie?"

She shakes her head. "It's a man. He called himself Agent Morris."

"You're kidding." I dry my hair with another towel, grumbling under my breath. "Like he's in The fucking Matrix . What an asshole."

"I made him some coffee, but I want you out there with me. He's scary."

I peek at her from under the towel and catch her staring at my chest. Her eyes dart away as soon as she sees me looking. "You were pretty scary when I first met you. It's why I chose you for this gig. You can handle him."

"I know I can, but…" She tugs her lower lip into her mouth. "This is about Aiden. I don't want to fuck it up."

If she can recreate the expression on her face right now for Peter Morris, he won't have a choice but to buy our story. Mira obviously cares about Aiden.

Another kind of heat I've never felt before simmers inside of me, but I squash it down. We don't have time for this.

"You won't fuck it up," I tell her. "Keep him busy and I'll be out in two minutes."

Peter Morris hasn't touched his coffee. He's too busy fishing for reasons to snatch my son away from me.

From the moment I walked out of my bedroom, it's been a rapid-fire interview about what our plans are for the next fourteen years.

"Is Aiden enrolled in preschool?" he asks, pen poised over his notepad. He glances at Mira with obvious skepticism. "Or are you homeschooling?"

"Me? No." Mira laughs and then blanches. "But I could. If I needed to! I would if that was?—"

"He starts in a few days," I interrupt, answering for her. "I just paid the enrollment fee."

Agent Morris ticks something off on his paper. "What about your work schedule?"

"What about it?"

"You travel for your away games. What are you going to do with Aiden while you're gone?"

"He can come with me," I say. Mira adjusts on the couch next to me, her knee brushing mine. "They both can."

This is the closest we've been in days and my body is more aware of her than it should be. I feel like this guy can see the tension vibrating between us. He's probably jotting it down in his notebook. Sex-obsessed pervert. Unsuited for parenting.

He snorts. "A young boy can't just take weeks off of school to jet around the country while you hit a puck into a net."

My hand tightens to a fist. I'm going to do it. I'm going to beat this asshole into the carpet.

Before I launch myself across the coffee table and end up with a body to bury, Mira lays her hand on top of mine. Her fingers are smooth and warm. She squeezes my hand and manages to smile at Peter.

"Our family has a lot of options. When Aiden is out of school, we can go with Zane and explore different parts of the country. When he isn't, I'll stay here with him and we can cheer on Zane from the living room." She works her fingers into my fist, loosening my clenched joints until I'm holding her hand, instead. "We'll look at all of it and decide what's best for Aiden."

Our family.

I've thought about being Aiden's father. About the two of us figuring out how to live together. But a family? I've never even considered it.

Now, I am. Whether I want to or not.

Mira's answer disarms Peter enough that there's a lag. I decide to fill the silence.

"Where is Jodie this morning? She said she would be my point of contact for all things concerning Aiden."

Morris lifts his chin and his mustache quivers. "It's well within my purview to follow up with cases I believe need extra attention."

"So, this is on the record?" I ask. "I'll be able to call Jodie and have a copy of this report?"

I feel the power dynamic shift as Peter clicks his pen and slides it back into his pocket. "I don't see why you'd need a copy of your own answers for how you plan to take care of your son." It's the only response I get before he stands up. "That's all I have for now. You can expect to see me again very soon."

I follow him towards the door and Mira is right beside me. She must be able to tell how close I am to losing my shit because she slips her hand into mine.

"I'll call Jodie and make sure she has my schedule so you don't show up when I'm not around," I say through a thin smile.

"Not necessary," he growls. "We'll call you."

With one last look at Aiden in the living room, Peter Morris walks out of my condo and pulls the door closed behind him.

"I think we were pretty convincing," Mira whispers, her fingers flexing in mine. "What do you think?"

My chest tightens. Maybe too convincing.

I let go of her hand and drag mine through my damp hair. "I think Morris came here outside of normal work hours and off the books. I think he has some kind of fucked-up vendetta against me."

"You aren't doing anything wrong, Zane. There's nothing he can use against you that shows you aren't a good father."

"Unless he sees a video of me drinking at the bar after our last game." The entire night is hazy, but it doesn't matter, because someone sent a video of the chugging contest to the team group chat. If Peter sees that, he'll think I've relapsed. And if he thinks that…

I chance a look at Mira, expecting to see disappointment on her face. Instead, she steps closer and lays her hand on my bicep. "You had one bad night. That doesn't make you a bad parent."

I have the stupid thought to pull her against my chest and tuck her head under my chin and I'm damn close to pulling the trigger on it—when Aiden comes bounding out of the living room. Kid has exquisite timing, that's for sure.

"Are you staying home again?" he asks.

I check the clock. I'm already forty-five minutes late to conditioning. And even though I know Morris is gone, I can't quite stomach leaving Mira and Aiden alone today.

"Sure am." I ruffle Aiden's hair. "What are we going to do?"

The answer, it turns out, is everything.

Aiden demands we go to the park, and Mira wasn't kidding about beating the line for the big slide. There are a million kids and parents there. It's bizarre how easily Mira and I blend in.

When I stop to tie my shoe and lose track of Mira and Aiden, one guy sees me looking for them and points across the playground. "Your wife and son went behind the rock climbing wall."

My wife.

My son.

Our family.

The words swirl around my head as we make lunch together and watch a movie on the balcony, the laptop balanced on Aiden's lap between us. By the time bedtime rolls around, I don't even make it through one book before Aiden is drooling on his pillow.

When I come out of his room, Mira is cleaning up dinner like it's our normal routine. Like we do this every day.

Some part of me wishes we did.

"Done already?" she asks.

"He passed out three pages into The Velveteen Rabbit. "

"Oh my God," she groans. "That book makes me sob every single time. I refuse to read it anymore."

"I'll count myself lucky I missed it, then. Today was enough of a roller coaster."

She nods in agreement and we slip into a long silence. Suddenly, Mira blurts, "I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"This morning. While you were—The shower, you know?" Her face flushes the same shade of red it did when she was standing in my bathroom doorway.

"Don't worry about it."

"I really thought I heard you say my name, and I was just so worried about that CPS agent and Aiden. I wanted you there with me."

I want her with me now. Later.

I think about Mira the way I used to think about getting high. I was always looking for the next hit, the next rush. Now, I'm always thinking about Mira.

If she's not with me, I wonder when she will be. When we are together, I'm thinking about getting closer. Maybe if I let myself have a taste, it'll stop. Maybe it will finally clear my head.

Either that, or it'll open up a depth of addiction I've never known before.

"You did so great with that asshole, though," Mira continues, oblivious to the purgatory I'm in. "You're such a good dad and there's no way he doesn't see that. There's no way he doesn't see how good you are together."

Is there any way Mira doesn't see how good we could be together? Is there any way she doesn't feel this?

I want to brush her dark hair off of her shoulder. I want to kiss the soft slope of her throat. But touching Mira might swallow me whole. There won't be any coming back from it.

She turns to me, brows pinched in a frown. "Zane?"

And suddenly, just like that, I don't care anymore.

I close the gap between us in a single stride, take her face in my hands, and kiss her.