That was when CJ and Amari walked right in to the shot to stand on each side of me, CJ with a stone-cold flat expression that warmed my heart big-time because I had felt his nervousness, and Amari on the other side with the biggest, goofiest expression on his face. I gestured to my left in the video. “My two new friends, CJ Daniels and Amari—”
The oh shit moment was all over my face in the video.
I had thought about stopping and restarting, but I tried not to do that because it seemed even less authentic. I prided myself on doing things as fluidly as possible. Fuckups and all.
Even when those fuckups included me not knowing someone’s name for the first time ever. I guess that was what I got for having someone I’d barely met to participate.
On the screen, my head turned toward Amari, and my face barely managed not to turn totally pink as I put the dumbest smile on my face, scratched the tip of my nose, and asked, “Eh, Amari? What’s your last name?”
Freaking CJ beside me lost his shit and started laughing. Loud. On the screen, I turned to look at him with a big smile on my face right before I started laughing too.
“I’m so sorry, Amari.” I cracked up.
The rest of the video went pretty well; they seemed a little nervous, but they did great, saying a few things here and there as we all did slight alterations to the same recipe to see whose came out better. Key lime cheesecake bites were what we’d ended up with. Mine had been the best. CJ’s were pretty gelatinous since he’d opted to leave out the egg, and Amari had added too much sugar to his—CJ and I had complained to his super flat expression.
It was rough, but the potential was there. I just needed another… four hours to finish editing it. Usually I’d wait until another day to start, but the guys had seemed too excited and wanted to see just a little something.
My phone rang. I picked it up and was a little surprised at the name that flashed across the screen. It made me smile though.
I hit the Answer button. “What’s up, old fart?”
His laugh hit me right in the ear. “Peewee. You home? You free?”
“Hey, yes and no.”
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Watching porn.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I’m kidding. I’m editing a video right now. I was thinking about filming another one.” Should I tell him about CJ and Amari? I mean, I guess why not? “CJ and Amari… Villanueva just left a little while ago.”
I mean, it wasn’t like we’d had a threesome.
From the slight pause on his end, I wondered if that’s what he was thinking. Or maybe he was thinking about my porn joke.
Nah.
He probably didn’t even think I had a vagina.
“Why? What are you up to?” I asked when his moment of silence felt like it went on for a second too long.
To give him credit, he didn’t hesitate that time or ask what they’d been doing over. He said, “I was callin’ to see if you were hungry.”
Should I… invite him over? I didn’t have to do another video. I could take the rest of the afternoon off. “I ate a little while ago. I might be able to scrounge up a sandwich or two for you if you want. Or did you want to go somewhere to eat?”
There was another pause on his end before he said, in his usual happy voice, “I’ll eat a sandwich.”
“Then head over. The gate code is 321125, Snack Pack.” Even though I realized now that my cousin had already given it to him the other time he’d come over.
“See you in about ten, darlin’.”
“K, drive safe,” I told him before he said bye and we hung up.
Not even fifteen minutes later, a knock came at my door. Sure enough, it was Zac on the other side. I smiled as I let him in. He kissed me on the cheek, catching me off guard for about one second, and I managed to plant one on his own cheek right back.
“Where the hell were you, down the street?” I asked as I closed and locked the door.
He laughed lightly, looking down at me with those baby blue eyes. In a white button-down shirt, a black vest, black dress pants, and shiny dress shoes… he looked pretty damn amazing. A very good-looking friend.
Had he been on a date? This early?
“About two miles down. The owner for the White Oaks invited me over for lunch,” he said carefully.
“The owner?”
He nodded, his expression serious.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Could be.”
I grabbed his forearm. “Fingers crossed then?”
His smile was stretched small, like he was trying to keep it that way on purpose, like he didn’t want to get too excited. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see. The whole team is young like Ceej….”
I lifted both hands and crossed both sets of fingers for him. If he didn’t want to talk about it much or jinx it, I got it. Then I thought about what he’d said on the phone. “I thought you said you were hungry?”
“I am,” he replied. “Had some fancy chef and all, but it was finger foods. Swear on my life the fish dish he had was the size of a silver dollar with some brown stuff on it that looked like deer droppings and tasted like them too.”
“I don’t know how you survived.”
“I don’t either,” he said before following me into the kitchen. I’d cleaned it up while we’d been baking the cheesecake bites. I got it from Mamá Lupe, the need to keep things cleaned up. I couldn’t sleep knowing there were dirty dishes in the sink, but the good thing was, I was the only one who usually ate, so it wasn’t much. There weren’t three hundred dishes that came from having a big family. “His wife—his fifth wife, he’d claimed—said some pretty disturbin’ things to me every time she got the chance.”
“Like what?” He couldn’t just leave it open like that.
Our eyes met as I pulled open the door to my oven and pulled out the four slices of bread I’d put in there the moment after he’d called. Zac made a face as I set the cookie tray on top of the potholders I had spread out on the counter. “She mentioned some masquerade party they were havin’ comin’ up where anything goes.”
I made a face at him over my shoulder, and he nodded, eyes wide and goofy.
“Said I should go. Then she mentioned later on how he goes to bed at nine most nights.”
I blinked. He blinked right back.
I couldn’t help it. I really couldn’t. “Is it hard being handsome?”
And this idiot was totally stone-faced as he answered, “Very.”
Yeah, I couldn’t help it. I snorted. “What a burden you have to live with.”
Zac laughed. “I’m objectified daily.”
“I believe it.”
“Hey, it’s hard sometimes gettin’ taken seriously,” he said. “You know how shitty it makes me feel when some women tell me how pretty I am? I’ve had a few tell me out of nowhere how I’d look—” He stopped talking.
I pulled out a bag of sliced roast beef and eyed him. “How you’d look what?”
“It’s graphic,” he warned.
I rolled my eyes again as I opened the bag and pulled out a slice and rolled it up like a cigarette. “Please don’t make me say it.” I took a bite and chewed. He flicked his fingers at me to approach, and I did.