“Even when we were kids, you were one of my favorite people on Earth, Zoe. When you’re home, even though shit was tense sometimes, I fuckin’ love spending time with you. We laugh. We chat. We talk. It’s always been that way. Pretend it’s just a little bit more. That’s it.”
He’s right.
I’ve always liked spending time with Zander.
I’ve always loved to be around him, to hear his thoughts, to balance on my mental scale how different his mind works from mine.
And even now, even though as a kid I was irrecoverably in love with the boy version of him, even though I turned him down—we always gravitate to each other when we’re in the same room.
Always.
Christmas.
Birthdays.
Barbecues.
God, weddings.
We laughed and talked through Luna and Tony’s entire wedding, making fun of everyone around us, making wide eyes at each other during the vows.
He’s just one of my favorite people.
It’s why I said yes, I guess, to this whole thing.
And maybe he’s right.
Maybe that’s what I need—to be spontaneous, to say yes. To play pretend.
So as the song quiets, changing into another, I move to my tiptoes, press my lips to Zander’s one more time, feeling the full body flush it brings me, and nod.
“Yeah. Okay,” I say. “I’ll play pretend.”
And the smile he gives me makes it all fucking worth any turmoil that will probably come later.
FOURTEEN
THE VERY FIRST NIGHT
-ZOE-
“Zander, this place is way too nice,” I say later that night as he parks in front of a cute, historic bed-and-breakfast.
“Nope.” He shakes his head and stares straight ahead.
“What?”
“Nope, I’m not dealing with this shit.” I glare at him.
I should have known this would be an issue with Zander.
He’s a pain, but he’s a gentleman.
I should have thought this out better. Made a game plan to make sure this trip was fair and even.
“How much did it cost?” I ask.
“Nope.” He pops the “p” and still doesn’t look my way.
“What?” I repeat.
“Nope, I’m not telling you that.” It’s like he’s rehearsed this conversion already in his head.
“Well then, how am I going to spl—”
“Hell no.”
I blink at him, and he glares at me before turning the car off and walking out.
We drove far into Virginia, taking minimal highways and stopping at anything that looked interesting until we looped back to the coast, landing here in a little beach town in North Carolina.
Interesting included a petting zoo of mini pigs where Zee took my picture holding a tiny, pink, squealing piglet and then promptly told me, “there is no universe where your neurotically clean ass could have one.”
And I mean, fair enough.
Plus, I don’t think any apartments in the city will allow for that, I’d thought to myself quietly.
I quickly threw that thought and any other regarding apartment shopping or job hunting or starting anew in the city away.
Pretend, Zee had said.
I can do that.
Even if a part of me worried that might destroy me, pretending with Zander. Giving my heart the possibility and then tearing it away before I can even fully enjoy it.
I’m still lost in that thought when my door opens, jolting me back into the now.
“Come on,” he says, his hand out to me.
I don’t take it.
“Why won’t you tell me how much this costs?”
“Because then you’re going to try and pay for it.” I roll my eyes.
“Why won’t you let me pay for half?”
He sighs and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and counting to five.
I’ve seen his father do this exact move a million times over the years in regard to some crazy shit his mother is asking of him, and some strange, far-off part of me smiles.
“This is my vacation. I’m just dragging you along with me.”
“Zander—”
“Please. It’s been a long fucking day. I didn’t sleep last night. I’m good, but I’m man enough to admit I’m tired and cranky, and if I have to argue with you, I might say something I regret.”
I stare at him, impressed.
Most men would keep going, keep pushing.
Most men I know would never be so hyperaware of their own emotions, so detached from some social idea of masculinity, that they would never admit that kind of thing.
But this is Zander Davidson.
And Zander Davidson was raised by Janet Davidson.
It tracks, to be honest.
So instead of arguing back (my own go-to), I nod, grab his hand, and let him help me out of the Jeep.
He doesn’t let go once I’m on solid footing.
Instead, he closes the door, steps in front of me, and backs me into the car, his body on mine.
“I like that,” he says, his voice low.
“Wha-what?” I ask, my heart racing in a way I think he can probably see through my shirt.
“Like that. How you think about it, let it go. How we work through shit.”
“I didn’t—”
“I don’t mind how you fight me on every fucking thing. Not at all. Makes my cock hard, babe, you fighting me. But I like how when you know it’s important to me, you stop. You think about it, think about if it’s worth it to you, and make a decision that will benefit both of us.”
I did do that, didn’t I?
“Zander—”
His hand moves, brushing my hair back, hair that’s still wild from the ponytail I haven’t put back in.
“I like a lot of things about you, Zoe. I’m sure I’ll find more, too. But I want you to know right now, that? That I might like most of all.”
Before I can respond, he leans in, pressing his lips to mine, and any hesitation, nerves, or second-guessing melts away when his lips touch mine.
Because Zander Davidson is kissing me again.
My arms wrap around his neck, and I move to my tiptoes as they do, leaning into his kiss.
When he finally breaks it, we’re both breathing heavily as he presses his forehead to mine.
“Fuck. Pretending with you is gonna be a fuck of a lot of fun, pip,” he says, and even though he smiles, even though I know what he means, even though that’s all I can handle right now, a tiny sliver of me I don’t want to acknowledge is disappointed with his words.
We walk into the room at the adorable B&B and instantly, I know something is wrong.
“There’s only one bed,” I say, looking around. I’m holding my purse, and Zee has my two bags along with his tiny little backpack that probably only has underwear and deodorant in it.
“Yeah, well, you played up the adorable couple thing so well, I’m not sure what you expected.”
I glare at him because it was him who tricked that woman—I barely even said a word.
He’s talking about how, when we walked into the building, the cutest older woman greeted us and treated us like an adorable married couple, gushing over how perfect we looked together.