Hands Down - Mariana Zapata Page 0,26

from the driver’s seat. “Let’s go, B. We’re hungry.”

Zac was in the car?

And he was coming with us?

It had been over a month since I’d dropped Zac off in Austin to see Paw-Paw. It had been weeks since the last time I’d even thought about him, much less talked about him. When I’d asked about the Travis family, Boogie had only brought up the older man’s status, stating that he’d been discharged from the hospital, which was normal. Over the last few years, he only mentioned his best friend if I brought him up or if they’d seen each other.

And I hadn’t asked about him lately. I had purposely changed the channel every time someone put The Sports Network on, and I’d been too busy lately to browse any other sports news websites for updates on his career. For all I’d known, he was still in Austin or in a different city working out with a new team. I didn’t even know if he’d signed with someone.

What I did know was that camp—the training they went to before the season started—had already begun.

And he was here. In Houston. Again.

When my cousin had texted me during his lunch break earlier to confirm that we were on for wings, he hadn’t said shit about Zac coming with us.

And now he was here.

In the car.

And they wanted to go eat.

With me.

It took me another second before I managed to nod. What was I going to do? Say no? Claim I had a migraine? And then I remembered who I’d been talking to a second before. Glancing over, I could see my neighbor at the keypad to the gate, attention still focused in my direction. He looked curious… and I was pretty sure he might have looked at my butt when I’d bent over a little to make sure I wasn’t imagining that it was Zac in the passenger seat. Hm. I lifted a hand and waved at him. “My ride’s here. See you, Santiago! Thanks for checking on me!”

My neighbor nodded, and in the time it took me to reach for the handle to Boogie’s car and open it, the gate into the complex was opening and the window to his car was up. Ducking into the sedan, I closed the door and smoothed my skirt down my thighs—at least as far down my thighs as it would go—and turned to the two men in the front.

Leaning over, I wrapped a forearm around Boogie’s neck, pretending to choke him at the same time, and he squeezed my forearm. Then, because I was an adult and because I wasn’t going to flip out that Zac was in the car, I only hesitated for about a millisecond before patting him on the shoulder, totally not noticing how muscular that part of his body was.

Or how he smelled like some subtle, expensive cologne.

“Hey. I wasn’t expecting both of you.” I shot my cousin a look, but he was facing forward, putting the car into Drive while I put my seat belt on.

He could’ve given me a warning, and we both knew it, but okay.

Zac turned in the seat enough to give me a good view of that blondish brown stubble along his jawline and the sliver of the smile he had aimed at me—this pretty, friendly thing that was about as second nature to him as breathing probably was. He was just being himself. And it wasn’t like there was some invisible person beside me that he was happy to see, as surprising as it was that he was here in the first place. “Boog said you wouldn’t mind me taggin’ along,” he stated.

Something that wasn’t exactly guilt settled right inside my chest, and I remembered, and reminded myself just in case, that this was no big deal. We’d seen each other not long ago, and that it had been fine. We were both adults now, so going to eat was nothing either. Just two friends catching up. A two-for-one kind of deal—seeing his best friend that he didn’t see enough of and being forced to see me too since we were all in the same city and I already had plans with said best friend.

Right. Moving forward. No moving back.

And that helped me. It made it not so hard to say, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to see you again.”

That sounded forced as hell to my own ears. Probably to Boogie’s too since I used the same voice every time I talked to his girlfriend.

Zac

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