Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
HANDS OFF!
“So.”
With one hand on the wheel as he steers us through town after a depressing study session that proved I’m seriously in trouble on the major front, he tosses back, “So?”
“SO. What did you do?”
En route to my favorite Pho place—both a reward and to cheer me up after hours in the library—he flicks a look in the rearview mirror, checking that Callan’s behind us, then at me, before veering onto the highway. “What did I do when?”
“Ohhh, so you’re playing dumb, huh?”
“Nahhhhh.”
“Sounds like it to me. What did you do, Zach?! What did you say to Pecan?”
“I say a lot to Pecan. Most of it he ignores by the way.”
“I’m talking specifically! And you know exactly what I’m talking about, mister.”
“Ohhhh.”
“Well?!” I demand when he holds his tongue for an unforgivable length of time.
“I told him to keep his dick in his pants. That’s all.” He whistles along to a song on the radio. “He had no business pointing his penis in your direction.”
My nose wrinkles. “Did he literally…”
“Knowing Pecan, yes. But not that I saw.”
“That’s it? You just told him to back off?”
“Yup.”
“I could have handled him.”
“Why should you have to though?” He peers at me over his sunglasses, looking unreasonably hot for this conversation. “If more guys reined in their friends, the world would be a better place.”
I blink at him. “You’re not wrong.”
His smile’s winning. “Is that your way of saying that I’m right?”
I scrunch up my nose. “Begrudgingly.”
“Begrudging because you don’t agree or because you don’t want to agree with me?”
“Neither.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I didn’t realize he had a crush on me. I thought it was because I was the nearest person who had tits. I noticed… I guess, that he kept on looking in the boob area. He’s not the most discreet of people.”
As he pulls up at a stoplight, he tweaks my hand so that he can hold it. “Your tits came in at the same time as you grew into your cheeks.”
I bark out a laugh. “You can say it.”
“Nah. Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t have a death wish.”
“I looked like a chipmunk.”
“Cute, that’s what you were. Anyway, I just told Pecan to stop being a creep and he did because he knew I’d gone to the school of Denver Parilla on keeping my friends in line.”
“Which threat worked?”
He squeezes my fingers. “Said I’d tell Helmie that I was worried about how much time he spent in the lingerie department at Macy’s. After the JC Penney incident, they were about to hunt for a therapist.”
That had me howling. “Oh, my god, no way! How didn’t I know this?!”
His grin is like lightning—hits me straight between the eyes and then shuttles down to my toes, warming everything up in between. “Yes way. I took pictures of him there.”
“When I dragged you along because Mom said I needed new PJs?”
“Yeah. He made a detour from the restroom and I caught him poking at a bra. Said I’d frame it and give it to her. If you remember, it was when she was going through that phase—”
“When she took classes in psychoanalytic training?!” My mind trips along to that year when my boobs came in.
“Yeah! He knew the therapy threat was high. Just took the right pressure point. And you didn’t need to know. I handled it.”
In a world full of people, all of a sudden, he’s the only person I see.
And what I see?
Jeeeeeeeez.
I’m so glad I can kiss him.
“Okay, you don’t have to worry anymore,” I declare, fighting the urge to stick my tongue down his throat because holy hell, that deserves a reward.
Only the fact he’s driving holds me back.
“About?”
“Carving knives.”
He chortles. “You approve?”
“Oh, no, Zach. I don’t approve. I endorse this message wholeheartedly. Now, feed me Pho and we’re even.”
That grin of his turns dopey. “Even? I don’t think we’ve ever been that in the history of our friendship.”
“Seems like a good time to add to the story of us, no?”
His eyes catch mine and within them, I see a warmth that I realize has always been there. Always.
I just never noticed it.
I fold my fingers around his, curling them tight.
Biding my time…
…until I can leap on him without causing a car crash.