Even though no one knows I’m the girl from the photo, it’s only a matter of time before my name is released. It might not be today, and it might not be from last night’s picture, but eventually, it’ll come out. Zanders and I can’t live in secret for his entire career.
I turned my phone off as soon as I made it back to the apartment, knowing I couldn’t handle reading any more of the nasty comments online. The ones about me are horribly mean, but those about Zanders hurt worse, and reading ugly words about your favorite person is a special form of torture I don’t want to experience again. I’ve been frustrated with his reputation, and things have become progressively more disheartening over the last few weeks. But it all came to a head this morning, and I couldn’t help but let out my emotions from being overwhelmingly sad for him.
Zanders is tough. He’s got a thick skin, and he’s been doing this for years. But this is all new to me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can handle people being blinded from what a huge heart that man has.
I want nothing more than for him to open up to the world and tell the truth. If they don’t like him because there’s more to him than they assumed, and if they don’t want to root for him because he’s more fun to root against…well, that says more about them than it does about Zanders.
“What are your thoughts about getting out of the airline industry altogether and doing something else?” Ryan peeks over his computer screen.
“I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know what else I’d do. I don’t really want to work a nine-to-five job because then I’ll only be at the shelter on the weekends. That’s what I love about flying. I could be off for days or weeks at a time.”
“Has your coworker reached out? The one in charge.”
“I’m not sure. I turned my phone off as soon as I got home.”
“Then you might be in the clear. You have some time to figure it out. If the team keeps winning, there’s only a couple of weeks of the season left. You might be okay until summer, and even if you’re not, you know I’ll help you out with whatever you need.”
“They’re going to keep winning,” I assure him.
My words are more so a reminder to myself than to Ryan. A lot of today’s concerns have been how those disgusting comments will affect Zanders during the last couple of weeks of the most crucial season of his career. He’s so close to the finals. He’s so close to a new contract. I don’t want him to doubt himself when he’s playing so great.
And even if he has to keep up appearances for the end of a season until Chicago gives him a new contract, we’ll just deal with it. We’re so close to the end.
“Maybe I can get you a job with my team?”
“Absolutely not.”
Before Ryan can argue, a knock at the door draws our attention. We both look towards the entryway before our questioning glances find each other again.
“I’ll get it.”
“Look out the peephole before you open the door, Vee.” Concern laces Ryan’s voice. After everything that happened last night and this morning, he’s been more protective than usual. But our building is as secure as it gets. It’s not like a random reporter is standing in the hall, waiting to interrogate me.
Looking through the peephole, the most stunning man stands behind the wooden barrier with a hood over his head and his shoulders sagging. But even if I couldn’t see his face, I’d recognize him anywhere. His commanding presence makes him hard to miss, even though his posture is a bit defeated at this moment.
“Zee, what are you doing here? Did anyone see you come up?” My head is on a swivel as I open the door, checking the empty hallway behind him, but as my attention makes it back to Zanders, my heart sinks.
His hazel eyes I’ve become accustomed to seeing shine are dull and pulled away from mine. His cheeky smile that melts me every time it comes out is nowhere to be found.
“I tried to call, but your phone went straight to voicemail.” His tone is much softer than usual. “Can I come in?”
Stepping out of the way, I widen the opening for him to come inside. As Zanders enters, he keeps his head low, unable to look at either my brother or me. My eyes dart to Ryan’s as we share a quick, unspoken conversation.
“I told Dom I’d meet him for a quick shootaround, so I’ll leave you guys to it.” Ryan stands from the couch, grabbing his gym bag and darting for the door.
“Ryan,” Zanders interjects before pausing a beat. “I’m sorry about the headlines.”