Chapter 13 #2
“Mom? Help?” I prompted.
She held up her hands. “Sorry, sweetie. We all just want to see you happy. You might as well give them something, or they’ll hound you to death.”
“Fine. In no particular order, I’m looking for someone who’s organized, thoughtful, smart, financially independent, and responsible.”
Zoey, Levi, and Cam all feigned snoring fits. Zoey pretended to wake suddenly. “Sorry, your future wife just bored us to sleep.”
My mom snickered in appreciation.
“I’m not loving this collaboration,” I told them. “And what exactly is wrong with my list?”
Levi grimaced. “You just described yourself, dumbass.”
“What’s so wrong with that?” I wondered.
“Son, if you don’t know, I’m not sure how to explain it to you,” Dad said.
“Oh, this is so good,” Hazel said, making notes on the page. “It’s like he doesn’t know how love works.”
“I know how love works,” I argued.
Cam snorted. “That’s what everyone says before they’ve been in it.”
“I love you assholes,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you didn’t pick us out. You got stuck with us,” Levi reminded me.
“Look, I appreciate the unsolicited opinions, but allow me to point out that there’s only one happily married couple in this room, so the rest of you can keep your opinions to yourselves.”
“Haze and me are happily engaged,” Cam insisted.
“Cam’s right,” Hazel said, pointing her pen in his direction.
“Please,” I scoffed. “He’s one dumbass mistake away from making you come to your senses and locking him out with the raccoon.”
“Gage is also right,” Hazel mused.
“So how are you planning to meet the lucky young lady?” Mom asked.
“Maybe he hired a matchmaker,” Cam guessed.
“Ohmygod, did you? I’ve never had a hero do that before. What if he falls for the matchmaker?” Hazel pushed her glasses up her nose and started scribbling again.
“As delighted as I am to be your entertainment, can we get back to these boxes so we can let Zoey enjoy her new place?” I didn’t care to have this conversation period, let alone in front of the woman I’d been fantasizing about.
“Oh, I’m enjoying my new place already,” she said with a sly grin.
“I’m raising your rent. Hey, who wants to see my carpet tack wound?” I offered to the group.
“Have you tried speed dating?” Mom asked, batting her lashes innocently.
“I expected more from you, Mother.”
“I don’t know why you would,” she teased.
“Dating apps!” Hazel announced, pointing her pen at me.
“Yes, I’m on a couple of dating apps. Now can we please—”
“Sounds like a good way to get murdered by a stranger,” Levi said, finally sounding interested.
“Which ones?” Zoey asked, pulling her phone out. “Dating apps, not murders by strangers.”
“I plead the Fifth.”
As the youngest, I was usually quicker on my feet. I could see a sneak attack coming from a mile away. But I blamed Zoey for distracting me. Cam and Levi’s attack caught me by surprise. I put up a good fight, but they managed to wrestle me to the floor in less than a minute.
“Get off me!” I complained as Cam held my arms behind my back and Levi rummaged through my pockets.
“Got it,” Levi said, triumphantly holding up my phone. He keyed in my passcode—our family was definitely too close—and tossed the phone to Zoey, who caught it midair.
“Mom!” I yelled.
“Boys, get off your brother,” she said mildly.
“We’re just having fun,” Cam said, happily shoving my face into the rug.
“I hope they don’t do this at the wedding,” Hazel observed.
“Can’t promise anything,” Levi said.
Dad stepped in and grabbed Cam’s ear.
“Ow! Mom!”
“Hmm, well, he’s on Everafter, and his profile pic is not shirtless. So that’s something,” Zoey reported.
My brothers abandoned me to lean over the back of the couch.
Zoey looked up at me while I climbed to my feet. “You have a dozen unopened DMs,” she said.
“I’ve been a little busy fixing up your apartment,” I pointed out.
“And I so appreciate that. Now it says here your interests include cooking and spending quality time with your family. I think we could jazz this up a little bit so you sound less…”
“Less what?” I challenged.
“Boring as fuck,” Cam interjected.
“He said it, not me,” Zoey said.
“You should listen to her. Zoey is an app expert,” Hazel said.
“Let’s open his messages and pick his new bride,” Cam said.
I stomped over, snatched my phone out of Zoey’s hands, and shoved Cam in the forehead. Levi reached out quick as a snake and locked his hand around my arm.
“Boys!” Mom yelled. “No fighting with three innocent women in the middle.”
Nana barked.
“Sorry. Four innocent women,” Mom said.
“Hey, maybe it’s time for Zoey’s present before someone loses an eye,” Hazel suggested brightly.
“Did someone say present?” Zoey said, shoving back her hood.
“Cam and I wanted to do something special for you,” Hazel explained, extricating Zoey out from under my dog.
“I wanted to get you four puppies,” Cam cut in wickedly.
Hazel jogged back to the curtain hanging over the dining room doorway. “Thankfully, I’m a much more thoughtful gift giver. So ta-da!” She Vanna White–ed her arms toward the curtain, but nothing happened.
“What’s happening?” Zoey asked.
“The curtain, Cam. Pull the curtain,” Hazel said out of the side of her mouth.
“Oh, right.” Cam unceremoniously yanked down the duct-taped curtain.
“Ta-da!” Hazel said again.
“Oh my God,” Zoey breathed. “I have an office?”
“You have an office!” Hazel squealed.
I joined Cam in the doorway while the two best friends started hugging and jumping and squealing.
They’d positioned a desk and chair in the middle of a colorful pink and orange rug.
A matching canvas with wild swipes of color was centered between the two windows on the wall behind the desk.
A long, skinny console table in matching wood was pushed up against the front wall.
It was topped with a series of wire bins and cups of colorful writing implements.
Nana strolled inside and immediately threw herself down to wriggle all over the fluffy rug.
“Now you have room for your printer and you can still keep all your piles but they’ll look organized,” Hazel explained.
“Oh! And here’s a filing cabinet. I prelabeled as many folders as I could think of so you don’t have to.
And there’s office supplies in there, including your favorite highlighters.
” She pointed to a tall, skinny cabinet shoehorned into the corner.
“Did you go notebook shopping for me?” Zoey asked, opening the cabinet door.
“Mostly for me, but I got you a few too,” she said.
“Frank, we need to redo our office,” Mom noted, admiring the setup.
“Great. Thanks a lot, Campbell,” Dad complained.
Zoey turned to Hazel. “I love it. So much. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“It’s gonna be a big year,” Cam predicted, shoving his hand in his pockets. “Figured you needed a place to ringlead.”
Zoey surprised him with a hug. Then she released him to grab Hazel. “Thank you. Thank you both of you. I’ll make sure this year is the most kick-ass year of your lives.”
Nana nosed her way in.
“And thank you, pretty girl,” Zoey said, cupping the dog’s face between her hands and pressing a kiss to her furry forehead. Nana’s tail wagged violently.
“Hey, I helped too,” I pointed out. “Those walls didn’t paint themselves.”
“How could I forget Nana’s dad?” Zoey said, turning her attention to me. She cupped my face and delivered a noisy, close-mouthed kiss to my lips.
There was nothing sexual about the kiss, but my body didn’t seem to register that fact. I felt like my lips were on fire.
“That better have been platonic,” Cam said.
Hazel clapped her hands. “Ooh! What if it was platonic, but with the most innocent of physical contact, the hero suddenly realizes he wants more? And with the heroine living upstairs, there’s obvious forced proximity. Imagine the landlord-tenant situations that would ratchet up the sexual tension.”
Fuck. My. Life.
“Here we go again,” Zoey said.
“You don’t mind if I borrow one of your notebooks, do you?” Hazel asked, already reaching for one.
“What did you do with the one you had five seconds ago?”
“It’s full.”
“Whatever. If it turns into another book, I don’t care if you write on my walls.”
“My walls,” I pointed out.
Zoey took a seat in the chair behind the desk and spun it around while Nana barked wildly. “My associate Nana and I have called you all here today to tell you—” She stopped the spin abruptly and put her head on the desk. “Hang on. Hangover goblin vertigo. I might barf.”
“You need some electrolytes and some good old-fashioned grease,” Mom suggested.
The conversation was interrupted by an automated voice.
“Your siblings are assholes. Your siblings are assholes,” the voice announced flatly.
“What the hell is that?” I demanded as Levi patted his pockets.
“It’s the ringtone for my fucking chief of police phone,” Levi said, producing a phone from his back pocket.
He answered the call. “Yeah? Uh-huh. Did you try explaining to them that the streets are for motor vehicles? Fine. I’ll be there in five.
” He disconnected the call and heaved a sigh.
“Apparently a mobility scooter company decided it was a great idea to host a demonstration at the Haven’s happy hour.
Now we’ve got a dozen intoxicated retirees cruising through town on stolen demo scooters. ”
“Classic Story Lake,” Zoey said.
“They give you a cop car yet?” Cam asked with a shit-eating grin.
“No. Just a magnetic emergency roof light.”
“Maybe you can roll down your window and make siren noises so they know you mean business,” I suggested innocently.
“I hate you both. I’d punch you in the face, but I have to go do a job I never signed up for. Why?” Levi pointed at me and Cam.
“Because your siblings are assholes,” we announced proudly.
“Have fun restoring law and order,” Zoey called after him as he left with both middle fingers extended in our direction.
“We love you,” Mom said.
“Don’t get hit by a scooter,” Dad suggested as the door slammed behind him.
“That should do it,” I said as I sank the last screw into the wall through the bracket. Everyone else had left to nurse sore moving muscles. Or in Levi’s case, to handle the eight pounds of paperwork from the Great Scooter Incident.
“I always thought hardware like that was just extra pieces. You know, like with a Lego set,” Zoey said from the bed.
“Wall anchors aren’t extra pieces. They prevent horrible furniture-related accidents.” I gave the bookcase a demonstrative shake.
“Believe it or not,” Zoey said from her belly-down position next to Nana, who was once again asleep, “I’ve yet to have a horrible furniture-related accident.
” She had her chin in her hands and had provided an attentive audience while I’d assembled her new bookcase out of the kindness of my heart, not out of the desire to spend more time with her.
“And now you definitely won’t. That’s what friends are for.”
“Friends.” She pursed her lips. Her color had come back after a dinner of delivery chicken fingers and boxed macaroni and cheese. “I haven’t had a guy friend since junior high.”
“I prefer the term man friend. Aren’t you friends with any of your exes?”
Zoey let out a surprised laugh. “If you knew some of my exes, you’d know why that’s a completely ridiculous question.”
I joined her on the bed like I didn’t have a choice. My body wanted to keep her close while alarm bells rang in my head. I stacked my hands under my head, careful to keep my snoring dog between us. “Give me some examples.”
“Okay. Well, there was Keith, the deadbeat guitarist in an eighties cover band. He had more hair than I did, and even though he was playing weddings and bar mitzvahs, he thought he was entitled to groupies. Then there was Darren, the investment adviser. We met when he was flirting with someone else at the bar. When she went to the bathroom, I told him his pickup lines were weak. Turns out not only did he have a short attention span, he was engaged…to be married and also in insider trading.”
“If you know these guys are so horrible, why do you go out with them?”
“Don’t know. Just broken, I guess,” she said airily.
“Disco.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Uh, I guess maybe because they can’t surprise me. I know exactly what to expect, and I’m not inconvenienced by their departure.”
“Zoey, you’re a smart girl. I refuse to believe your entire dating history looks like that.”
She sighed. “There was a guy once, Sam. Very handsome, very responsible.” She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Come to think of it, you remind me a little of him. Always doing the right thing. Anyway, it was serious…for me at least. But it was college, and you can only get so serious in college. I thought I was in love. He wanted more of what I couldn’t give him and less of…
well, me. He broke up with me, and I was just crushed enough that I realized I never wanted to be in that position again.
At least not until I knew how to stand on my own two feet. ”
“It sounds like there are significantly more details to that story,” I noted.
“Yeah, well, let’s not taint my new start with an old sob story. How goes the wife hunt?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I’ve been too busy making sure my new tenant doesn’t get crushed by her bookcase to do much hunting.”
“Better get on that. Those sperm aren’t getting any younger,” she teased.
I sprang off the bed like the mattress was made of bees. Sperm wasn’t exactly a sexy word, but hearing it come out of Zoey’s mouth while we were lying on a bed together was too close to the line. I was playing with fucking fire here.
“I’d better get going. I have…things to do.”
“Things like cooking and spending quality time with family?” she quipped.
Things like putting some much needed distance between Zoey Moody and my sperm.