The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 228

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

Success Shouldn’t Sting

B

The hotel doors opened onto the late-afternoon rush of Midtown, and stepping outside felt like taking my first full breath since that morning.

Rebecca walked beside me while Kieran remained several paces behind, finishing a conversation with someone from the forum. Cars crawled past the entrance as hotel staff directed departing guests toward waiting vehicles, and somewhere farther down the avenue, an impatient driver leaned on his horn.

My bag slipped against my shoulder. I adjusted it rather than give in to the urge to glance back at the hotel.

I’d made it through the day without hearing the one name I’d feared.

Astra.

Zane had looked at me more times than I cared to count, including several that had made me wonder whether something about me bothered him, but nothing in his face suggested he’d found the answer.

I should’ve been relieved.

Instead, the fact that he’d held my hand and walked away still thinking I was Isla Smith had left behind an irritation I refused to examine too closely.

“Isla?”

Rebecca’s voice brought me back to the curb, where she’d stopped beside a black car. “Are you coming?”

“Sorry.”

She studied me briefly before opening the rear door. “Long day?”

“You could say that.”

“You did well.”

“Thanks.”

Kieran joined us, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Tomorrow morning, I want the regional notes consolidated with anything Ashton disclosed today.”

“I’ll have them ready.”

“Monday is fine,” Rebecca said. “She’s been working on Vantage all week.”

After a moment, Kieran nodded. “Monday.”

“Thank you.”

He climbed into the car while Rebecca lingered beside the open door. “We’re heading back to the office. You?”

“Home.”

“Good choice.”

I said goodbye and waited until their car disappeared into traffic before ordering my own.

10:12 Sat, Aug 29

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

The back seat finally gave me enough privacy to remove my glasses and rub the ache along the bridge of my nose. Unfortunately, getting away from the hotel hadn’t done the same for my thoughts.

Ze kept finding his way back into them, along with details I had absolutely no business dwelling on, including how offensively well he’d grown into those shoulders.

I put my glasses back on and stared through the window, determined to think about literally anything else. Manhattan gave me several million alternatives, yet my mind remained stubbornly fixed on one irritating fact.

I’d known him immediately, while he’d stood close enough to touch me, looked directly into my face and found nothing he could name.

That shouldn’t have stung, but it did.

Maybe the black hair had made more of a difference than I realized. My face had matured, along with enough of the rest of me that expecting him to find the girl he remembered in the woman sitting here was hardly reasonable.

Which raised the far more humiliating question of why I was searching for explanations at all.

I folded my arms and lasted another block before muttering, “Asshole.”

The driver’s eyes flicked toward me in the rearview mirror, and I turned toward the window before he could witness whatever argument I was currently losing with myself.

Zane hadn’t actually done anything wrong. I’d gone to extraordinary lengths to make sure Astra Hawthorne couldn’t be found, only to get offended when he failed to find her.

If anything, his reaction today proved I’d succeeded.

Some petty, deeply embarrassing part of me just hadn’t expected success to feel quite so insulting.

Irefused to investigate what that said about me.

By the time I reached the apartment, exhaustion had taken enough of the fight out of me that kicking off my heels near the door felt better than continuing an argument with myself I clearly wasn’t going to win.

The refrigerator offered nothing worth eating, so I ordered dinner and headed for the shower.

Hot water helped more than I’d expected. By the time I stepped out, some of the tension across my shoulders had finally eased, and changing into an oversized shirt made me feel more human.

I left my hair loose to dry and found my phone beside the bag I’d dropped near the door. Two messages from Ethan were waiting among the work emails.

ETHAN: Survived the day?

ETHAN: Or should I begin making international arrangements?

A smile tugged at my lips. He had no idea exactly what I’d survived.

ME: Still alive.

His response appeared almost immediately.

ETHAN: Glowing recommendation for New York.

ME: I’m hanging up now.

ETHAN: We’re texting.

Ja, muy

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

I locked the screen before he could become any more pleased with himself.

55 vouche?

mer arrived shortly afterward, and I ate on the sofa with the television playing quietly across the room. Between the shower, food and Ethan’s nonsense, the day was finally beginning to loosen its grip on me.

Then everything became quiet enough for one green-eyed problem to wander straight back into my head.

I sank farther into the cushions, annoyed that I’d already wasted enough of the ride home arguing with myself over Zane’s ” failure to recognize me. Revisiting the subject from the comfort of my sofa wasn’t going to make my reaction any less

irrational.

The remote was within reach, so I turned up the television and forced myself to follow whatever was happening on-screen. Tomorrow, I could appreciate how perfectly everything had worked out.

Tonight, avoiding any further thoughts about Zane Ashton seemed like the safest option.

田

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Jal, Aug 29

The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback

FOUR DAYS OF SILENCE

ZANE

Friday morning should have put yesterday behind me.

By nine-fifteen, it was obvious that wasn’t happening.

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