45. Mira

45

MIRA

"Wow," Aiden breathes, hands plastered to the window as Evan navigates us up the long, winding drive to Jemma and Reeves's house. "A castle."

I thought living in Zane's condo had acclimated me to luxury. Every morning that I wake up sprawled in my queen-sized bed and drink my coffee from an actual sofa, the version of me that sat on a deflated, misshapen bean bag starts to fade away like Tinkerbell without attention.

But even with my new taste for furniture that has actual structure, I can't keep my jaw hinged as I gawk up at the mansion in front of us.

An automatic gate slides open and Evan follows the stone driveway around the side of the house, past two different patios, and stops in front of a five-car garage that is uplit like it belongs in an art gallery.

"Is Reeves a mobster?" I whisper under my breath. "This place is huge ."

Jemma is gorgeous. With hair that bouncy and shiny, she could totally be the wife to a mob boss if she wanted to.

I'm suddenly regretting my choice of denim shorts and the stupid t-shirt I ordered online because I thought it was sooo funny that says "Zero Pucks Given." I should probably be in a Lilly Pulitzer dress and my afternoon pearls.

Then the glass door swings open and Jalen comes bouncing down the back steps in a pair of bright yellow rainboots and a neon green shirt that looks like Hulk's bare chest. If that wasn't enough to make me feel better, Jemma steps out in a pair of leggings and a cropped Phoenix Angels t-shirt, and I suddenly feel way less underdressed.

Ungodly rich people: turns out they're just like us.

Aiden and Jalen collide in the middle of the driveway like they're brothers being reunited after war. They run hand-in-hand towards the backyard without a single backward glance in our direction.

"Don't worry," Jemma says, walking down the steps barefoot to meet me. "The pool is fenced in and the gates are locked. They can't get into any trouble back there."

"Wow. That's nice."

When Aiden wants to get some fresh air, he has to settle for playing Legos on the balcony or we hoof it down to the park. Zane has mentioned buying a house a few times so Aiden would have more space, and I can see the benefits now. But even he couldn't afford something like this , right?

… Right?

I'm about to ask Jemma how much money models make and whether her agency is looking for any fresh new faces—this morning's forehead pimple notwithstanding—but she waves me inside for a drink before I can embarrass us both.

The outside of the house is sprawling, but the inside is all honey wood, soft beige blankets, and natural lighting. Homey, somehow. I've been here for thirty seconds and I'm ready to kick off my sandals and change my mail forwarding address.

I don't get a chance to do either thing before Jemma shoves a glass of juice (fresh-pressed, because obviously ) in my hand and looks me dead in my eyes. "So, spill. What's going on with you and Zane?"

I choke on my first sip.

"God, I'm sorry." She drops down into one of two chairs facing a wall of windows. We can see Jalen and Aiden kicking a soccer ball back and forth in the grass. "With Reeves gone all week, I've been without adult conversation for too long. I've lost what little tact I used to have."

The team had an away series in Austin, followed by one in Houston, so they stayed in Texas between games. It's been a lonely week, to say the least.

"Also," Jemma continues, "the boys are going to be occupied for thirty minutes max before they're in here begging for snacks. I want to get our adult chat out of the way before then. So, I'm not being rude; I'm being efficient."

She grimaces in apology, but I'm finding her honesty weirdly charming.

The same way I like Jace's gruff, overprotective facade and Davis's nonstop shenanigans and Daniel's goofy, golden retriever energy.

Zane has a good group of friends. I've just met them, but I miss them already.

I hit the eject button on yet another dangerous thought spiral and slap on a smile. "What do you want to know?"

" Everything !" She tucks her legs underneath her. "Are you dating? Does he pay you? Is it weird to have your boyfriend pay you?"

"We aren't dating. He does pay me. And it would only be weird if he paid me for the sex."

Jemma's brown eyes flare wide. "So you are having sex?"

"I probably shouldn't have said that, but I assumed that you had already assumed."

"Oh, yeah. I mean, Reeves said Zane has been in a much better mood lately, so we knew it had to have something to do with you. Especially after he brought you to the opening day party. I saw the way the two of you were dancing."

"Nothing even happened that night." Unless you count the panty-melting dirty talk afterward, which I definitely do. "I went as a favor to him, since there would be press there. He wants CPS to see him as a stable parent for Aiden. Having a steady girlfriend helps."

Jemma holds a very smooth, well-moisturized hand in the air. "Hold on! You two are fake dating? Is that what he's paying you for?!"

I should plead the fifth. If Jemma doesn't know this already, there's probably good reason.

But not answering her question feels more damning than explaining things at this point.

"I'm Aiden's nanny, but I'm also pretending to be Zane's girlfriend when CPS comes around. I'm already there all the time, so it's… it's just about convenience. But don't tell anyone," I blurt, lurching forward so fast I almost slosh juice onto the white wool rug. "Not that it's a secret or anything, but it's…"

"Complicated. Copy that." She hums. "I don't know if I could explain this to someone even if I wanted to. You're Aiden's nanny, but you're also fake dating Zane while simultaneously having real sex with him."

"I mean, it's not all happening simultaneously," I mumble. "But yeah, that's the gist of it. Yes."

She whistles and taps a fingernail against the side of her glass. "If we weren't on kid duty, this conversation would call for something stronger than juice." She blows out a heavy breath. "What do you make of all of it? Do you like him?"

I snort. "You weren't kidding about being efficient."

"Guilty as charged. My first agent called me ‘brutally blunt' and told me I'd need to learn to put on a pretty smile and stay quiet if I wanted to book jobs. I told him he was an asshole and fired him on the spot. Come to think of it, though, he might've been onto something."

I barely know Jemma. We talked for ten minutes total at the opening day party and I haven't seen her since, but she's refreshingly honest. She says what she's thinking and I trust her.

Also, I might be emotionally constipated and the look of sincere interest in her almond-shaped eyes is the metaphorical enema I need.

"I think it's impossible to spend any amount of time with Zane and Aiden and not fall in love with them both." I run my finger over the rim of my glass. "Being a dad was dumped in his lap, but he's so good at it. He cares so much. He could have a real girlfriend in a second if he wanted one, but he asked me to help him out because he wants to focus on Aiden."

Jemma doesn't quite manage to swallow down a laugh. "I don't think that worked out so well for him since you two are… well, you know."

"It's not like that, though. Zane is—We are—" I stop and shrug helplessly. "We like being around each other, but Aiden is still his first priority."

Jemma raises her hands in surrender. "Fine. Say what you want, but Reeves was in the locker room when Carson dropped all of this on everyone. He said he's never seen Zane look as pissed as he did when Carson told everyone Zane was—and I quote—‘fucking his nanny.'" She scowls as deeply as she can with what I suspect is a normal-for-a-professional-model amount of Botox injected into her various would-be wrinkles. "They had to pin Zane against the wall to keep him from kicking Carson's ass."

My stomach flutters, but I shove it down quickly. "He was probably just embarrassed to have all of his dirty laundry aired. Not that Aiden is dirty laundry, but… you know what I mean. He's a private person."

She arches a brow. "Zane told Carson to ‘keep my family out of your mouth.' That doesn't sound like his issue was privacy. It sounds like he was defending both of you."

And it sounds to me like things with Zane are getting more complicated by the second.

There's a reason I've lived in a dozen states and Taylor is the only person I stay in touch with. I don't make connections or friends. That'd just mean more people to leave behind when it's time for me to go. More people to lie to about my past and where I came from— who I come from.

Zane is calling me his family in front of his teammates, and he doesn't even know me. Not really.

Not the important parts.

"Okay, I can tell by the crease in your forehead that I'm freaking you out." Jemma leans back in her chair. "Sorry. We can end the interrogation."

"You weren't interrogating me. It's fine."

That's only a partial lie. I'm not fine, but that's not Jemma's fault. I don't just have baggage—I have enough unprocessed childhood trauma to fill a baggage claim carousel. That comes with its fair share of triggers.

One of which just happens to be caring for and/or being cared for by another person.

Zane calling me family, Aiden holding me hand on the elevator ride down to the parking garage this morning—hell, even Jemma talking to me like she actually cares about my life… All of it just drives home how many roots I've put down here.

And how much harder it's going to be to yank them up when it's time for me to run again.

Jemma nods, looking out the window as she takes a sip of juice. We lapse into silence for thirty seconds before she whips back to me.

"Last thing, I swear, and then I'll be done," she says. "I was around when Zane was with Paige and it was a shitshow. He fell into a deep hole and things got dark. It took ages for him to climb out. The fact that he is close to you and letting you in… it means something. He may not admit it, but I'm telling you, it does. You mean something to him, Mira. Reeves and all of the guys are glad to see it. I am, too."

God, so many roots .

I don't know what to say, so I just smile. "Thanks, Jemma."

Suddenly, the backdoor crashes open, making us both jump. Jalen and Aiden run in, tracking mud behind them.

"Mom!" Jalen yells. "We're ready for a snack."

Jemma laughs and checks the time on her phone. "What did I tell you? Twenty-seven minutes and they're inside asking for snacks. I can see the future."

She was also right that the boys wouldn't leave us alone again for the rest of the evening. The next few hours are spent chasing them around the house while they move from room to room, leaving chaos in their wake.

When night falls, I offer to stay and help clean up, but Aiden and Jalen are both swaying on their feet.

"I'd rather leave the clean-up until tomorrow and get them to B-E-D," she demurs, eyes wide.

We make plans for another playdate and Jemma and Aiden wave from the door as Aiden and I load into Evan's SUV.

By the time we get back to the condo, Aiden is half-asleep on my shoulder. Evan carries him upstairs for me and discreetly checks the condo. He says he has to "use the restroom," but we both know he doesn't need to poke his head into every room in the house before going pee.

I don't mention it because I'm sure it was an order from Zane.

Because he wants to make sure his son is safe , I remind myself. It has nothing to do with me.

I help get Aiden into pajamas and don't even bother pulling out a book. He isn't going to make it past the first page. Instead, I sit next to him, stroking his dirty blonde hair.

His eyelids are heavy, but he still looks up at me with those baby blues. "I miss my dad."

"He misses you, too, bud. He texted earlier and we're going to video chat with him first thing in the morning. As soon as you wake up."

He scooches closer and rests his cheek on my stomach. "He's going to come back?"

"Of course he is. He'll be back at the end of the week."

"You promise?" He lifts his head to look at me and I hate the fear in his eyes. I hate that he knows what it feels like to have someone you love leave and never come back.

I want to take it away from him. I want to bundle up all the pain he's ever felt and carry it instead.

I take his hand in mine and squeeze. "I promise you that your dad is coming back, bud. Your dad will never leave you. He loves you more than anything."

As Aiden falls asleep, his hand still in mine, I realize how easy it would be for me to love him more than anything, too.

It's like a little switch in my chest. One flick and I could give everything I have to the Whitaker men. Both of them.

I lie there, holding his hand and contemplating whether to let myself flip that switch for a long time. Long enough that Aiden is deep asleep by the time I finally slide out of his bed and close his bedroom door behind me.

And when Zane texts me, not to ask how Aiden is doing, but to see if I had fun talking to Jemma, I don't respond.

Sooner or later, I'm going to have to leave.

There's no reason to make it any harder than it's already going to be.