I really had loved spending time with him and Boogie back then, and he knew it. I didn’t need to confirm anything. I glanced at him. “You don’t want me to answer that. I’m not going to break your heart today, but I probably wouldn’t ask your mom any questions about the tooth fairy or Santa anytime soon either, m’kay?”
It was this fool’s turn to blink. And he even went as far as to raise a hand and set it right on the center of his chest. “Are you tryin’ to say….”
It was so freaking hard to keep from snorting, but if he wanted to joke around… well, that was second nature to me too. I kept my face even. “I think this is a conversation you need to have with her. I’m sorry.”
My friend of such a long time ago freaking hooted. He shook his head like… he was so happy. To be around me.
And I liked it. I liked it a lot more than I had any business doing so.
“Ah, darlin’, I missed the shit out of you, and I—” Zac cut himself off.
But I knew what he’d been about to say. At least my gut did.
I missed the shit out of you, and I didn’t even know it. That’s what he’d caught himself about to say. You know, because he’d forgotten about me. Otherwise he would have asked or gotten back in touch at some point over the years. All it would’ve taken was a phone call. A “hi” via text.
I faced the stove and dropped some oil into the Dutch oven, biting the inside of my cheek as I did it.
He’d been busy.
And it was fine. I’d been busy too. I had a life.
But none of that changed the weird silence that filled that sliver of a second before Zac started to say, “Bianca—”
I didn’t want to hear it. I was going to focus on the good. On the here.
“So, did they put Paw-Paw on medications? Boogie didn’t say,” I cut him off.
“So… whatcha been up to?” Zac asked me half an hour later after spilling all the beans on Paw-Paw’s health and throwing in a couple more stories about him that I’d never heard before that had me cracking up.
And most importantly, skirting around our past.
What have I been up to? Instead of how’s life been the last ten years? I wasn’t the only one on strange ground, and that was all right. I hadn’t wanted things to get awkward after his last comment about not realizing he’d missed me.
I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me by reminding me again that we hadn’t seen each other in so long—and definitely not why that was—but… I was choosing not to let it bother me.
And if it was still just a little bit of a sore subject, that shit was on me.
But honestly, really, it was the easiest thing in the world to forgive Zac for just about anything when talking to him was like slipping into a favorite pair of matching socks that had been separated by a magical dryer for months. If I wanted to be less technical, like riding a bike. He was so likable and dumb and talking to him was too…
Natural. Hanging out with him, talking to him, was just… easy. Somehow that was annoying and nice at the same time.
“You workin’ at a gym? I think that’s the last place Boogie told me you were at.” He’d kept going with the questions after telling me about Paw-Paw Travis calling him at six in the morning to ask how to buy some sunglasses he’d seen on the television that would help his night driving.
It had been six years since he should have given up driving, but that hadn’t stopped him, apparently. Paw-Paw claimed he only wanted to drive around the ranch.
Wait.
His question took me a second to process. Boogie had told him where I worked? I couldn’t remember mentioning anything about it in the car when we’d gone to dinner.
Had he asked Boogie?
He knew about the gym but not my WatchTube channel?
“Yeah. I work a few hours a week at the front desk at Maio House,” I told him as I scooped a load of sausage and greens from my plate and pondered that over. That was enough information without being too much. “It’s a gym in one building and the building next door is for MMA and stuff.”
From the corner of my eye, I could see him glance at me as he swallowed his food. We had moved to sit in the living room on the couch, but the television wasn’t on. I had a glass of pink lemonade sitting beside me on the tiny side table.
“You do MMA? How long you been there?”
I shifted, angling my butt into that corner to face him a little better. His profile was sharp under the overhead fan lighting, but he looked relaxed, slouched and sunken into the coffee brown couch I’d inherited from a friend of my cousin’s, all long limbs and skin that had gotten tanner and tanner each year. He had an elbow propped on the arm of it and was holding his own bowl in the air on his palm. “No. Not at all. I’ve been there about three years now, but the original owners sold it not too long ago, and I don’t like the new people much.” Or at all. “Hopefully I won’t be there too much longer.”
Why had I said that out loud?
Unfortunately, he was paying attention. “What’s the plan after that?”
I ate another spoonful of sausage and waited until I swallowed it to tell him vaguely, “I don’t know. I was playing around with the idea of moving, but I just started thinking about it. We’ll see.” I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but if he brought it up to Boogie, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d probably talk to him about it sooner than later anyway.
Zac’s eyes had flicked up to me when the “m” word had come out of my mouth, and they were still there when I finished. Those light brown eyebrows knit together; they weren’t really thick, but they weren’t thin either. They were just kind of perfect for his face. Honestly, everything about him worked together in a pretty boy but somehow still manly way. “Move to another apartment or somewhere else?”
“Away,” I answered, pulling my legs up onto the couch so my feet were planted on it too and I could balance my bowl on top of my knees. How much should I tell him? “I like Houston, but I don’t really have anyone here anymore other than some friends. And I used to like my job, but now I don’t. Connie lives in Killeen. Boogie’s in Austin….” I trailed off. “Anyway, we’ll see. I’ve still got a few more months left in my lease to decide. Are you… okay in Houston for now? Are you planning on going somewhere else? Back home?”
Maybe I should have shut the hell up and not asked anything about his future.
His smile was strained, and it made me feel bad. “It’s all right so far. I’m still workin’ with a trainer here.” The shoulder he shrugged said everything else though, I thought. “You heard, I’m guessin’?”
About not continuing on with the Thunderbirds? What the hell else would he be asking about? I nodded, leaving that in his court.
He tipped his head to the side in silence. Long enough for me to expect him not to want to talk about his career anymore, and I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t. I’d bet everyone wanted to talk to him about it. It had to be annoying. “We’re sortin’ things out,” he stated after a while, spoon still scraping along the sides of the plain white bowl.
Huh. It wasn’t my business to ask.