I kept watching to make sure he didn’t come back into view. “I hope he steps on a Lego.”
She snorted, and I grinned at the girl a few years younger than me. “I started working on my resume like you said. I’m going to email a couple more of those businesses we found. Fingers crossed.”
“Good. Before we quit, we can sprinkle a bunch of Legos all over his office and pray for the best,” I told her quietly.
We both snickered, and she went back to work a second later when a gym member came up to the counter and requested a drink.
Irritated, I slipped my hand under my keyboard and pulled my cell out. There was a message. But it wasn’t Connie’s name that appeared on my screen.
There was a text from a number I didn’t recognize. From half an hour ago, apparently. I made sure Gunner wasn’t around and then unlocked the screen and read it.
512-555-0199: Hey
O-kay.
I didn’t reply. But when my phone vibrated five minutes later when I still wasn’t busy, I took another peek. There was another message from the same number.
512-555-0199: You ignoring me?
Ignoring? I texted the number back.
Me: New phone, who dis?
Thirty seconds later a reply came in.
512-555-0199: Snack pack
Snack Pack?
Zac?
It had been three days since Boogie had picked me up and we’d gone out to eat. Three days since I’d been living with the regret of not being very nice to my old friend when he’d tried to ask about my life. And two whole days since I’d scrolled through his Picturegram account while sitting on the toilet.
It wasn’t like I didn’t follow Zac online and hadn’t been following him for years. I saw all of his posts. But I’d still scrolled and lingered over some of his pictures, especially the ones where he carefully cropped out whatever woman was sitting beside him. It was always obvious. It wasn’t any of my business, and 99 percent of the time, it didn’t twist up my stomach like it had back when I’d been a kid who had been in love with the last person in the world she could ever have a shot with for a million different reasons.
Then I’d exited out of the app, reminding myself that I was glad I’d gotten to see him and that I was so happy for how successful he was. Despite the setbacks but everyone went through those.
He deserved all of it. He had motivated me to follow my own heart, even if my dream was about one-hundredth the size of his. But if every person weighed their dream against someone else’s, nobody would ever dream at all.
Anyway, other than a text from Boogie about him possibly coming to visit when my sister was here, I hadn’t thought much about it—okay, Zac—since.
So the last thing I freaking expected was for him to text me.
And that was exactly when another message came through.
512-555-0199: Zac, peewee
Did he think I’d forgotten who Snack Pack was? The thing was, I hadn’t had his number in my phone in probably five years, if not longer. I’d dropped my cell in the toilet and had to start all over again with my contacts. I sure as hell hadn’t been about to ask my cousin for his number. There hadn’t been a need for it.
I made sure no one was paying attention to me and texted him back. I might not get a response but… it wouldn’t be the first time, and at least I’d know I had tried. It was my choice, and I knew the worst that would happen: I wouldn’t hear from him again.
Been there, done that, and I had the bumper sticker.
Plus, I still felt like an asshole, and I hated knowing I’d acted that way. I’d thought I was better than that. And I just wanted to know that I had always tried. Unlike him.
Me: Hi Zac
There we go. That wasn’t needy or inconvenient or too familiar.
My phone vibrated a minute later, and if my heart skipped a tiny beat, well, it was dumb, and I didn’t need to be paying attention to it anyway.
512-555-0199: Hi darlin
512-555-0199: You free after work?
I didn’t know what it said about me that I noticed he used “darlin’” enough so that it was saved on his phone instead of “darling.”
Most importantly though, how did he know I was at work? And now that I thought about it, had he had my number or had he asked Boogie for it?