Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
After a moment, with his gaze still locked on me and with his eyebrows knitted together, he just said, “All right, kiddo. That’s a plan then.”
And it was my turn to wink at him.
We finished eating our food pretty quickly with Zac changing the subject and telling me about a conversation he’d just had the night before with Paw-Paw in a tone slightly more restrained than usual. He gathered our trash and went to dump it while I washed my hands. We had just made it to the door to leave when the fucking cashier called out, “The White Oaks suck,” just as Zac started to push open the door.
He paused for a second, and I saw something ripple across his face.
And I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like it at all, especially not after the conversation we had just had.
And this fierce protectiveness I felt for Zac, one I had always felt for him, surged up inside of me, and I turned around to frown at the guy standing there with a surly expression on his dumb face.
“Your face sucks. Have a nice day,” I called out to him right back, even giving him a sarcastic wave as I gestured super over the top for Zac to keep moving.
He blinked, and it took maybe three seconds, but his smile went wide before he walked out and I followed after him.
“What a dick. I’m sorry, Snack Pack.”
My friend stopped right on the edge of the curb and turned to me with an expression that wasn’t anywhere near being devastated like it had been before. He looked... amused. But more than that. And he was still looking at me differently. “You tell him his face sucks?”
“I should’ve said his attitude sucks too, but it was all I came up with in the moment. Next time.”
That big palm of his went to the top of my head and squeezed it. Those blue eyes glittering. Those white teeth out and flashing at me in a smile so sweet, I sucked it up like it was made of gold.
I winked at him again. “You have to be nice, but that doesn’t mean I need to.”
“You’re the best, kiddo.”
I shrugged a shoulder at him. “I’m all right.”
“You’re better than all right,” he said, still watching me closely. “It ain’t even a competition.”
And my heart… my heart did some shit it had no business doing. It thumped. Again. With recognition. With a love so deep I knew it would crush me if I let it.
And that scared the shit out of me.
I was falling in love with him.
Fortunately, my stomach did a roll right then too—a different kind of roll—right at that moment, and I knew what was happening. I was giving myself a chance. Reminding myself of what we had. And that was friendship. A friendship that would span decades.
And I was going to hold on to it with both hands.
Or at least with one at the moment.
Reaching behind me, I smiled and swiped at the air… and then I made it so I was throwing an imaginary ball at him.
It wasn’t all that imaginary.
I threw my fart at Zac.
I threw it at him and said, “Attack.”
In the time it took him to blink in surprise, he farted too, but not a quiet one, a loud one that must have rumbled his butt cheeks…
Then he was cupping and throwing one right back at me, laughing.
I loved him, and I knew it. I really did. And I had no fucking business doing so.
Chapter Fifteen
Zac had been staring at the heels of my boots on and off from the moment he’d pulled up to find me outside, waiting for him.
And he was staring at them again now as we walked from the enormous parking lot settled across a few acres surrounding the haunted house.
There weren’t too many cars in the lot yet. Then again, we were there fifteen minutes before the doors even opened in the first place. Zac had said that his teammate had wanted them to be the first “visitors” through on opening day. To avoid the crowds, I guessed, and to have pictures taken of them to put up on social media.
Them being Zac, CJ, and Amari, who had been in his car when he’d pulled up to get me. We’d talked about CJ “practicing” cooking the entire ride over. Zac had been trying to teach him.
“You sure about those?” Zac finally asked, pointing toward my feet with his chin.
I lifted my toes. “Yeah, why?”
“You don’t think tennis shoes would’ve been better to go through?”
“They’re only wedges, and they aren’t even three inches. I can run in taller than these,” I scoffed. “I got this.”
His face implied he didn’t believe me.
“Promise. Connie trained me to run in heels.”
That got me an eyebrow lift. “Trained you?”
“We were bored one night.”