Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
“I trust Zevulun Hayes,” I say aloud. Because I need a pep talk.
Because I’m sitting outside his apartment building on the Fourth of July telling myself to be brave and to get out of this car and go inside.
And because I believe what I’ve said. I do trust Zev.
Our friendship may be new, but he’s proven himself a good man again and again.
It helps that it’s nine o’clock and the fireworks start at ten. And that it’ll be just the two of us. Fran would have had me at her house making small talk from six until eleven. In this scenario, I am in and out in less than two hours. It’s just Zev. It’s just me. No small talk needed.
I can do this.
The last Fourth of July that I remember, I was with Robert and Fran. It was a big event. We went to the college stadium and watched the fireworks with thousands of other students in Reno. It was loud and fun and big.
The exact opposite of what I’m up for this year.
Zev has invited me over for quiet, small, without the entire UNR population. However, I’m still anxious. I could have stayed home, alone. I could have gone to bed early with Grammy. So, what am I doing here?
I don’t want to be at Fran’s party.
But I don’t want to be alone either. And Zev has a way of settling my nerves instead of riling them up.
“Hey, look at me, getting a handle on my anxiety.”
There’s a tap on my driver’s side window and I start, slapping a hand to my heart. Okay, maybe I spoke too soon. I’m not getting a handle on anything.
I peer over to Zev and my racing heart slows.
He’s got two camping chairs slung across his overachieving shoulder and a canvas bag in the other hand.
He gives me an apologetic smile. His lips move, and I easily make out his “sorry.” He didn’t mean to startle me.
And truly maybe that’s all it was. I was startled. The end.
I already feel less anxious just looking at him.
This is going to be a million times easier than Fran’s party. And with that thought, I open my car door. Zev steps back and out of the way.
“Hi,” I say, then nod toward his camping supplies. “What are those for?”
“We can’t see the fireworks from my apartment. We’re going to the roof.”
Slowly, my lips form a grin. “We are?” Somehow not going into Zev’s apartment calms my nerves that were misbehaving—again.
“Yep. I stole the key to the access door.”
This makes me giggle. While Zev is big, sprouting muscles like a kid with chickenpox, I cannot imagine him stealing or bullying anything out of anyone. He is a gentle giant. That’s always been clear.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I will return it. And Hal the security guard will never know it went missing.”
“You are so much more trouble than I realized.”
I follow Zev into the building and over to the side door marked “stairwell.”
“We’re skipping the elevator. Less questions this way.”
“Good plan.” I nod. “Can’t have Hal finding out what a heathen you are.”
He pauses halfway up the first floor of stairs, holding up his canvas bag. “I’ve brought you cinnamon bears and Dr Pepper. You should probably be nice to me.”
I laugh. “My favorites.”
“Huh. Lucky guess.” He starts up his trek again and I follow behind. “There’s also Doritos and chocolate-covered pretzels. So, be good.”
“You can keep the Doritos. I will gladly eat your share of the cinnamon bears.” I’m not sure why I was so nervous.
I guess socializing isn’t common for me these days.
And this isn’t an accidental meet-up. Zev and I are purposely socializing.
I don’t plan to make a habit of it. But so far, I don’t hate it.
We are ten minutes in, so I shouldn’t get too comfortable.
I’m grateful this apartment building is only three stories high.
I’m a little winded when we reach the top, and it’s embarrassing as Zev looks and sounds as if he could climb a dozen more flights of stairs and not notice—except for the slight limp in his right leg.
I’m not sure I would have even noticed except that he’s told me it still bothers him.
He must really not want to run into Hal the security guard.
Zev sets up the chairs in the middle of the roof, side by side. Then he opens the canvas bag and pulls out a fully leaded Dr Pepper. He holds it out to me. I take it, cracking it open and taking a swig.
“They’ll light the fireworks there,” he says, pointing to a spot across the way, just past the lake. “They’ll reflect off the water, and it’s kind of like a double show.” He grins, waiting for my reaction.
“Wow.” I can’t imagine a better spot. “I’ve never watched fireworks over a lake before.”
His gaze falls, and that melancholy smile that overcomes Zev from time to time sprouts. “Then you’ll love this.”
I nibble on my lip. “You’re a good friend, Zev. You didn’t have to do all this.” I sigh. “You didn’t have to forgive me so easily the other day either. You’re just—good.”
“Just be glad your ex isn’t here. You might not think I’m that great.”
I smirk, then sit in one of the camp chairs he’s brought up. “I believe I was promised cinnamon bears.”
“I see. You’re avoiding the topic of the ex.”
“Yes, I am. We’ll only argue again. Now, hand over the cinnamon bears.”
“What we should be doing is planning on toilet papering that guy’s house.”
“Zev!” I try to laugh, but it comes out more like a bark. Why did I bring it up again? “He was being friendly. The end. Move on.”
“I’m just saying, you’re a girl’s girl. You don’t stand for crap like that.”
I stand. “Do I need to go?”
“What?” He shakes his head as if he has no idea that he’s acting like a butthead.
Maybe he doesn’t. The fact is, I am a girl’s girl.
I’m just not convinced that Robert is bad.
And I really don’t want to discuss it with Zev.
“No. Don’t go.” He reaches for my hand. And for some strange reason, I let him take it.
“I’m sorry. I’ll keep my thoughts to myself. ”
“You shouldn’t be having so many thoughts,” I say as the apartment building to the right of us catches my attention.
A large, balding man on the third floor, stands in view of his glass door.
He opens his button up shirt and I blink away, looking at Zev once more.
“You don’t know Robert at all. And really, you’re still getting to know me. ”
“I know,” Zev says. “I guess I get worked up at times.”
“Well, work down and—” I tear my hand from his and cover my face. I could handle the man losing his shirt in full view but now he’s dropped his pants. “WHOA.”
“Rose?” Zev’s tone is confused—with good reason. He’s not facing the same direction as me, which means he’s missing the strip tease.
I so did not come here for that kind of show. And while the man is in the building to the right of us and the lake straight ahead—he is hard to miss standing there in nothing but his bright red undies.
“Are you angry? I shouldn’t have brought it—”
“Maybe this view isn’t the best!” I peek through my fingers, just to see Zev’s puzzled face, but just around him the stranger is in full view and while he’s still in his bright red undies, I’m worried they’ll go at any moment.
“Uh.” Zev’s brows knit, and he tilts his head to the side. “I promise, it’s the best. The fireworks over the lake make for an amazing show.” He snatches hold of my hand, pulling it away from my face. “Are you okay?”
But the strip-teasing man is still there, hands on his hips or possibly the sides of those briefs, yikes.
“Holy!” What in the world? I pull in a breath and focus on Zev’s face.
I look at his eyes, his nose, the way his full lips turn up.
I study my friend and ignore the uninvited bachelor strip tease happening directly behind him.
I do not appreciate adult peek-a-boo shows from strange men. When Zev wavers to the left, I snatch a hold of his T-shirt and yank him right in front of me. He is the perfect giant wall to block my view. Turning him around so he faces the same direction that I do, I repeat, “Not the best view.”
“Rose, it really is—oh. Wow.” He clears his throat. “Whoa-kay. I see what you mean.” He spins back, facing me, his forehead screwed up in wrinkles.
“Yeah.” I clench my jaw.
“He’s not in direct view of the fireworks.”
I scoff. “Close enough.”
“Okay, but he can’t stay there all night. Right?” Zev peeks back at the man. “What is he—”
“I don’t know!”
“He looks like he might lose those briefs—”
“Which is why you’re blocking my view.”
“He’s just standing there. On display.” Zev cringes.
The sound is so horrified. I can’t help it, the strange reality of the situation hits and I plop down in my camp chair, laughing deliriously. Bonus—the lower view from my seat takes Magic Mike completely out of view. Of course, it also takes out the lake.
At this moment, though, it’s worth it.
“I promise. That’s—” Zev runs a hand through his hair, a ball of nerves, which only makes me chuckle more. “That’s never happened before. He must be new. He must be—”
“Comfortable with his body?”
“I was going to say crazy.” Zev’s cheeks are flushed. He sits in the chair beside me and rubs a hand over his temple. Man, he’s cute. If my brain wasn’t broken and my heart wasn’t partly taken, I would be noticing how cute he is on a regular basis.
“Maybe he doesn’t realize we can see him,” I say.
“He’s standing in front of a glass door. Curtains wide open. How could he not know?”
“Maybe we should talk about something else while we wait. Get our minds off our… friend—”
Zev’s lip curls. “He is no friend of mine.”
I smirk. “Let’s talk book swapping? What do you think?”
“Sure. Right now? Did you bring the book you promised me?” His brows lift, waiting for me to produce a book out of thin air.
“No.” I shrug. I am merely changing the subject from the practically nude man across the street. “I won’t forget. I’ll bring it to our next lunch.”
He lifts one brow. I think I’ve distracted him well enough. “Sounds good.” He digs in his canvas bag. “You want a drink?”
“I’ve been waiting for cinnamon bears for quite some time.”
“Right,” he says. “My bad.”
We have thirty minutes until the fireworks start. So, we stay safely in our seats, eating cinnamon bears and chocolate-covered pretzels and drinking Dr Pepper until Zev and I are the kind of friends that belch in front of one another.
Zev checks his watch. “It really is amazing if you can see the lake during the show.”
“Well, I’m not standing until you’ve checked that the OTHER show has ended.”
Zev huffs. I giggle. Then he stands, only to promptly sit again. “Or we can simply watch them in the sky. That works, too.”
“Still there?” I gawk.
Zev hisses. “I think he’s waiting for the fireworks to start.”
“I’m never going to make it home,” I whine.
“Sure, you will.”
“It’s not worth the risk. I do not need anything more than a firework show tonight.”
“You could always crawl to the roof access door, to make it out.”
I scoff like he’s putting me out.
“Or you could stay.”
Sighing, I say, “You did not pack enough cinnamon bears.”
“You’re absolutely right.” His pretty blue eyes study me.
I laugh again—it’s almost a strange sound to my own ears. I haven’t laughed this much in a very long time.