my number? “When was the last time you heard from him?”
What was this? Who Wants to be a Billionaire?
“Last night. We spent some time with his friends, and then he came back, dropped me off, and said he was going to run some errands.” I’d checked a few news sites while I’d been up to make sure nothing had been posted about Zac being in an accident or something.
He huffed.
“Why? Did something happen?”
“I texted him last night, and he hasn’t responded.”
Welcome to the club. I rubbed my eyes with my wrist as more of that gross feeling welled inside of me. Jealousy, okay, it was fucking jealousy. I highly doubted he’d been in an accident. “Maybe he was just having too much fun?” That made me want to throw up, but I kept it to myself.
He snickered in a way that had me blinking up at the ceiling. At his ceiling. “We’re under crunch time, Bianca. If I text him, he needs to answer. He needs to be on his A game, not partying, getting his picture taken with random women at clubs—”
He’d gone to a club?
He stopped talking, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t because I gasped or anything. At least I hoped more than anything that I hadn’t made a sound. My lips were pressed tight for a reason. And what pictures was he talking about? How did he know there were women?
I’d figure it out later. Maybe.
No. No, I wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t my business.
Oh God, I really was nauseous. I just needed to keep it together a little longer. “Trevor? You there?”
There was a pause. Then I heard him sigh. “Bianca, look, kid, I like you, all right? I got a feeling about you, so I’m saying this because I don’t want you to lose that shine in your eye….”
I didn’t mean to say it, but I did it. “You’re scaring me.” Did he say… did he say he liked me? Just last night, Vanessa had told me all about how mean Trevor had been to her. How much neither one of them could stand each other and about how glad she was that he didn’t manage Aiden anymore.
I felt like there was more to this story, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Zac about it.
So for him—who had never so much as even smiled at me, but he’d eaten my food—to say he liked me and didn’t want me to lose the shine in my eye?
I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, and I knew it.
“Zac’s the closest thing I have to a son. I know everything about him, all the good and the bad—like you do—and it’s been my responsibility to keep him on track as much as possible because I want the best for him.”
Yeah, I didn’t like where this was headed.
He kept going. “But he’s had one nice, sweet, perfect girl after another in his life since we’ve known each other, and I’m sure you know that. I know he cares about you. Anybody with eyes can see that, but I don’t want you to have any expectations that will end up—”
Why did it feel like I got punched in the chest as hard as possible?
Why did I want to cry?
And of all the words in the world did he have to use ‘expectations’?
It wasn’t like I’d genuinely thought that I’d ever had a chance. I knew that some of my dreams were just that—dreams. Some dreams you have a say in. Some dreams you can make happen…
And there are some dreams you had zero shot at.
You couldn’t make someone love you.
Most importantly, you couldn’t make someone who already loved you, love you any differently.
“No, Trev, it’s all right. I don’t… I don’t have any expectations. I know… I know not to expect anything. I learned that a long time ago,” I told him, trying to keep my voice light and failing. Or maybe not failing. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
He didn’t believe me, and I knew it instantly. “I don’t want you getting disappointed. Zac is just Zac. He doesn’t ever mean to hurt anybody, and I can tell you’re at the top of the list for him. But sometimes we hurt people without meaning to.”
Sometimes we did. He was right. “I know he doesn’t like to hurt anyone. I just opened the door for him yesterday when he found a lizard in the house. He didn’t want it to die inside.” Trying to be