Page 21 of Dirty Zone

“Is that what you need?” He moves an arm under my legs to cradle me.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Okay, what are the rules?” he asks, chuckling when I make a face. “So I don’t accidentally break them. Let’s set up expectations beforehand.”

What I really need is a blood oath that I won’t be his dirty little secret, but that’s excessive. “Limiting texting to two hours a day? Or only video calling a few times a week?”

“Are you asking if I’m okay with that or something else?” His index finger sweeps a lock of hair out of my eyes.

Saying I’m clueless isn’t the correct answer. “We can start there. Are there any deal-breakers for you?” I ask, and hold my breath.

“Tell me everything that’s going on in your head. About me, my job, us, you, your job, your stance on owning a pet.” Mav ticks the items off on his fingers.

I rear back. “Do you have a pet?” Some days feeding myself is a chore, and I can’t have an innocent being relying on me.

“No, but I want one and can’t have one because I travel so much.” His smile flips my belly.

“Not to be rude, but is this a job interview for a doggie dad?” I laugh to show I’m kidding.

“I thought a cat first. Lower maintenance. Cooler status,” he says without a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m not old enough for a cat.” I lean into his hand on my face.

“But you’re old enough to own a home?”

“Completely separate things. One requires money, and the other kindness, patience, and dedication.”

“You’ve got all those things. But we’re taking it slow, so tell me how you started your website and what you like about it.” As if he senses I’ll pull away, Mav’s arms tighten on me.

“Why are you so sure I like it?” I ask defensively. Guys think they want to date me, but reality is less sexy than they imagine.

“You told me you won’t stop dancing, and you were glowing when you came in the kitchen earlier. It didn’t even strain my brain to come up with it.” He kisses my temple.

If past me could see me now, he’d never believe Mav is cool with my job. It’s usually short-lived, so I might as well get it over with. Prolonging the discussion will only delay the inevitable.

“Classic case of boy needs job so he doesn’t starve because he thought he got his dream job, but it’s a horror show. Fear of starving is real meets sexy content-creator mentor.” Inhaling, I switch my story to first person. “I made a few videos for a website that takes a cut of the profits but eventually felt safe to launch my website.” I watch his expressions as I leave out most of the details and give him the main points, not seeing a hint of disgust.

“Safe? Why weren’t you safe?” His voice rises in alarm.

“More like financially stable type of safe. Safe from starvation, homelessness… the basics.” My lips find his hand, and I change the subject. “Tell me about your teammates.”

We talk for hours, and it’s harder than it should be to let him go, but I don’t beg him to stay. Not yet.

Chapter 11

Maverick Maher

“What’s on your schedule today?” I ask Sky, plopping down in my seat on the bus to the airport. He squints and bites the inside of his mouth in what I call his thinking face.

“I’ve got four videos to film, one live session, and my drama babies class tonight.”

I chuckle at the nickname he calls his high schoolers because it used to be a catty girlfest, but now two boys have joined, and he insists it’s the best birth control in history, even though he can’t get pregnant.

His hairline is damp, and a curl’s flipped the wrong way on his forehead. When he sweats, he smells a little bolder and musky. My memory isn’t as good as experiencing him in person.

“Busy day.” I up-nod at Brant as he slides into the seat next to me. We’ve been video calling every day and texting for the last week. I missed two games being on IR, injured reserve, and if I had my way, I would’ve stayed with Sky. I never get that much time off.

“Regular.” He shrugs, and I hope my face is normal. I haven’t had the courage to ask him what he does in his live sessions.