Hands Down Page 15
So, because of my good day and because I’d already put on makeup and done a little extra with my hair because of filming, I kept my “work” clothes on, which consisted of a skirt and a tucked-in loose blouse even though we were going to eat wings.
Right then, I was mostly just worried about my skirt flying up at a random gust of wind and showing everybody driving by my maroon underwear.
Specifically Santiago, who was two months single and possibly ready to mingle.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
I was just thinking about my underwear and Santiago when the black pickup pulled through the opening gate and his silver car stopped at the keypad instead of piggybacking like everyone did.
The window rolled down right before I heard a “Bianca!”
I thanked God in that second that I’d never gotten all flustered over hot guys. The only things that had ever made me sweat was tres leches cake and lime sherbet.
And sometimes certain male body parts could hypnotize me, but not for long.
So I was able to lift my hand up and wave at the black-haired man leaning out of his car window with his forearm resting along it. “Hi, Santiago!”
“You locked out? Need a ride in?”
A ride. The jokes I could make with that.
“No, I’m okay. I’m just waiting to get picked up. Thank you though.”
“You sure?” the man I’d seen a couple times without a shirt on when he got home after a run hollered, making me imagine his six-pack for a second.
I gave him a thumbs-up and replied, “Yeah, no, it’s fine. He’s on his way.” I only slightly regretted not going into detail on who “he” was, but oh well. It had been a few months since I’d last gone on a date.
A memory of Boogie telling me to get out more crept through my head. I hoped he didn’t remember that conversation, because he wasn’t going to be happy if I had to tell him the truth. Does going to Target count?
The way-too-good-looking sheriff’s deputy smiled a smile that would have made a lesser woman throw her panties at him. “You sure?”
I smiled back, and right as I opened my mouth, a car pulled into the driveway for the complex and quickly turned left to stop directly in the visitor’s lot, right in front of where I was standing. It was a car I definitely recognized.
A four-door black sedan. Boogie’s car.
The passenger side window rolled down, and something else familiar appeared, even though it wasn’t what I was expecting.
Zac’s freaking smiling face. Zac’s freaking smiling face with its tan skin and high cheekbones and perfect nose. And he looked so happy.
“Hop in, we’re starvin’,” the man I’d seen weeks ago said.
What?
My old friend’s smile grew a little wider, flashing me more of that immaculate row of white teeth highlighted by the dark sunglasses protecting his eyes and making his skin look even more bronze. Back when we’d been kids, he’d been pale, but year after year of practices and working out under the sun nearly year-round had given him an incredible base coat. He was tanner than I was now.
“Get in, Peewee,” he said like I hadn’t heard him the first time.
I couldn’t see my cousin, but I heard him 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 smiled even wider though, oblivious to my half lie and how iffy I sounded, and Boog glanced back at me for a second, his own tiny smile on his face.