16
Courtland
I would do anything for Buzz, and this, I'll do gladly.
Step one: tell Zane Buzz isn't interested in him romantically.
Gently.
Pfft, I'll try my best, but I can't guarantee anything. Zane's reaction isn't something I can control, but I'll be sure to speak slowly and clearly so he gets it the first time and I'm not forced to prolong the situation.
Getting that out of the way will clear the way for step two: finally telling Buzz how I feel about him.
The bell above the door jangles as Zane bustles in, bringing a rush of cold air behind him. Grant, the diner owner, snaps at him to close the door. I hide my smile behind my grilled cheese sandwich as Zane spots me, orders something at the counter, and scurries over.
"Hey. How's it going?"
he asks, sitting down, untying his scarf, and taking off his beanie. Long strands of dark-blond hair cascade onto his shoulders. He points at my plate and grins.
"Great minds."
"Excuse me?"
"Here's your sandwich,"
Grant says, dropping it on the table in his customary gruff manner.
"You guys want anything else?"
"I'm all good,"
I say around a cheesy mouthful.
He walks off before the other guy can answer. Zane's demeanor shifts, and he looks genuinely sad. I'm already about to deliver some bad news to him, so I throw him a bone.
"Don't take it personally," I say.
"Grant's wife, Debbie, died at the start of the year. He's still grieving."
"Oh, shit. I had no idea."
Zane takes a few bites and looks at me expectantly.
Guess he's waiting for me to give him the update I promised when I texted.
"So, I talked to Buzz the other night."
"About me?"
"About…dating in general."
He drops his sandwich onto the plate and leans forward. "And?"
"And he's not ready. I'm sorry. He's still processing the breakup with Cameron, and he's busy at work. He's only just gotten rid of Howie, and now I've moved in. I think he's happy with you guys just being friends."
There. Gentle…right?
Zane slouches back in his seat and looks around the diner.
"Thought you said you didn't talk about me?"
"That last thing was just…some friendly advice."
"Friendly?"
He scoffs, and the golden retriever morphs into a rottweiler.
"I don't believe you."
"You think I'm lying?"
"I think you don't like me."
"Excuse me?"
I'm not the guy's biggest fan by any means, but I haven't said or done anything directly to him to give him that impression.
"Don't play dumb. You haven't liked me from the moment you laid eyes on me. I know your type all too well: arrogant, judgy douchebags who think the whole world revolves around them."
Well, this just escalated.
"What are you talking about, Zane?"
"Oh, come on. The fake compliment about my hair. My dragon tattoo being fab. The way you glared at me when I hugged Buzz after the wedding ceremony. I even saw you smiling just before when Grant barked at me to close the door."
Okay, so maybe I've said and done a few things to give him that impression.
"Here's the deal,"
I say, putting my sandwich down and wiping my fingers.
"You and I don't have to be friends. But I did what you asked, and I'm simply relaying what Buzz told me."
"I call bullshit."
"Why would I lie to you?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"I don't follow."
He gathers a handful of hair and sweeps it back over his shoulder.
"You like him. Don't you?"
"Uh, yeah, of course I like him. He's my best friend."
"I don't mean like that. I've seen how you look at him."
Okay, now he's really starting to piss me off.
"We've met twice. You don't know anything about me."
"Everyone in town thinks you guys belong together."
"Don't believe everything you hear."
He grips the edge of the table hard, his knuckles turning white, and aims his glacial light-blue eyes at me.
"I think you like him as more than just a friend?—"
"Best friend,"
I correct.
"Whatever. And I think you're threatened by me."
I scoff.
He may have been right about a few things—not that I'd ever admit that to him—but he is dead wrong about that.
"I am not threatened by you. Believe me."
He levels me with a glare, his nostrils flaring.
I shoot a death stare right back at him.
"You know what."
I yank my napkin off my lap and throw it onto the plate.
"I seem to have lost my appetite."
Zane shrugs.
"Whatever."
I get up to leave, seething with anger. Here I was, trying to let the guy down gently, and this is the thanks I get?
The little fucker. Who does he think he is?
He glances up at me and smirks.
"Buzz and I have a chocolate-making date next week, you know."
"A chocolate-making class, not a date,"
I fire back, jamming my arms into my coat and dragging my beanie over my head. I snatch my gloves off the table, and before common sense can catch up to me, I lean down and sneer.
"And get a fucking haircut."