2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Zach
T he pounding in my head is what wakes me. It’s like a jackhammer has taken root in my brain.
How much did I drink last night?
Sitting up in bed, the sheets pool around my waist, and the heel of my hand finds my temple. I can barely open my eyes against the bright light pouring in through the blinds.
How did I get home?
I finally open my eyes enough to take in my surroundings. And the first thing I notice is that I’m not actually at home. The pink sheets on the bed are not my black ones. Nor is the frilly comforter.
But I know whose it is without having to crawl out of bed.
I’ve seen this room a hundred times, slept in it a handful.
“The fuck did I do last night?” I mumble to myself.
It’s then I notice I have no shirt on. Lifting the sheet, I find I’m not wearing pants either. Just my boxer briefs.
There’s no way Mazie changed me and got me into bed on her own. I have at least fifty pounds of muscle on her. She wouldn’t even be able to support me drunk.
Which means, at the very least, Eli had to have helped.
Great. Now I owe the family for getting wasted at the most recent wedding.
It just became too much, and the alcohol seemed to help. Another baby Baker has gotten married, leaving only one sister. Mazie’s the oldest. She should have gone first. And…it could have been us.
But she doesn't even notice me.
The number of times she’s friend-zoned me is more than I can count, and it hurts more and more each time.
The simple fact is that I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with her since we were fourteen.
She was never gross or icky to me, always my closest friend and confidante. And somehow at that young age, I realized what I felt for her went beyond just friendship, beyond what I felt for her sisters, even the other people I was friends with, including other girls. She’s always been special and had a place in my heart that was solely hers.
With another groan, I rip off the sheet. I’m just about to throw my legs over the side of the bed when the door opens.
Mazie walks in, her auburn hair in perfect ringlets. Her sapphire eyes widen and sparkle as she looks at me. “Oh! I didn’t know you were awake yet.”
Though I’m sure she tries not to, I watch her gaze track over my body, landing on my boxers. Quickly, I pull the sheet back over myself as one corner of my mouth tips up.
“Just woke up. How bad was I last night?” I look at her through my fingers as I cover my face in shame.
“Not the worst I’ve seen you, but pretty plastered. How’s your head?”
“Terrible.”
“Here.” She steps forward and extends a coffee mug and a glass of water, and then turns her palm up, two aspirin sitting in the center.
I take the coffee and set it on the nightstand, grabbing the pills and tossing them in my mouth before taking a swig of water to wash them down. Then I realize how parched I am and chug the glass. With a quick wipe of my mouth with the back of my hand, I trade the glass for the mug.
After I give it a slight blow, I take the first sip. “Mmm. Thank you.” The coffee at Mazie’s is always delicious. I’m sure she and the girls all bring it home from the shop. Why wouldn’t they? It’s the best coffee in town and it's far better than anything you can buy at the grocery store.
“You’re welcome.” She sits on the edge of the bed and looks down at her lap. Something’s bothering her, but I can’t tell what.
“Just get it out.” I take another big sip of the amazingly dark liquid. While my stomach wants to gnaw at itself, the warmth and caffeine are already helping my hangover.
“There just seemed to be something you wanted to tell me, and the guys wouldn’t let you. Or I guess, just kind of interrupted before you got a chance to say anything.” Her sapphire gaze rolls up to meet mine.
But the problem with how much I drank is I don’t remember much beyond a certain point in the night. And nothing stands out as something I needed to tell Mazie.
“I wish I could tell you what it was, but I honestly don’t remember. There’s nothing there now, so I can’t imagine what it was last night.”
Her shoulders slump, and she looks disappointed. But then it’s gone as she straightens, flips some curls behind her shoulders, and clasps her hands in her lap. Put together Mazie is here and she’s likely to stay. “That’s okay. I was just curious. It seemed important, and I wanted to make sure we talked about whatever it was. Once you’re ready, come on out, and I’ll make some breakfast.”
“You don’t have to do that. Or at least let me cook since you let me stay.” I make some mean scrambled eggs. But that’s kind of the extent of my breakfast making capabilities.
“Nonsense. I’ll make some pancakes to soak up whatever’s still in your system.” She pats my leg and stands. I know she tries to hide it, but her gaze rakes over my chest again. I can’t help but smile.
“You’re too good to me, M.” She always has been.
“I’ll go get started.” Without another word, she’s out the door, closing it quietly behind her.
One more sip of coffee, and a wide stretch, and I’m able to get out of bed. It’s then I notice a pile of clothes on the dresser. The corner of my mouth tips down as I take in the clothes. A pair of drawstring pants and one of my old shirts. I must have left it here at some point. Probably last summer when I helped her paint the living room and it was hot as balls.
The pants are surely Eli’s. It’s not that he lives far, but I know Mazie keeps some of his clothes handy in case he needs to spend the night. Which I’m sure he spent it somewhere after the wedding instead of going home.
I wonder if I took his spot. He won’t mind, but I feel bad if I put him or anybody else in the family out.
Seeing as it was Cam and Alina’s wedding, I’m sure he didn’t stay with them, so the only other option is that he slept on Mazie’s couch, which I doubt, or he went over to Mansion Penshir. Jameson has been welcomed into the fold pretty well by now so I’m sure it was no issue.
I’ll have to check in with Eli later and thank him, make sure he knows I’m sorry for getting so fucked up. And probably apologize to Cam too. Between him and Alina, I know she’ll just shrug it off and tell me it’s no big deal.
Hopefully, I didn’t make too big of a fool of myself. I’ll have to find out before I go talk to them. Or maybe I should wait until after they’ve been married for a few hours?
I’m sure there’s some sort of protocol here, but I have no idea what it is and what’s right.
With a sigh, I pull on the pants and shrug on the shirt. It’s a bit tight in the arms.
I pad out into the living room and run a hand through my hair before settling at the table while Mazie putters in the kitchen. She’ll refuse my help even if I offer it, and being vertical and on my feet doesn’t lend to me wanting to help right now.
As though summoned by my thoughts, she comes over and refills my coffee cup, pushing it a little closer to me.
“Drink up.”
“Sorry I was such a mess last night. And that you had to put up with me being here.”
“Oh, stop. You’re never a bother. I was a little worried about you, but Eli assured me you’d be fine.” He, of all people, would know how far up to and beyond my limit I would go. That’s what happens when you basically grow up drinking together.
Eli and Mazie are my closest friends. The Bakers are my second family. Enough so that their parents’ brutal murder was what encouraged me to buckle down, stop dicking around in college, and focus my major. On criminal justice. Some may say it’s cliche to join the police force after such a tragedy shook our tiny town, but it never sat right with me that it happened and how long it took to find the person responsible.
Plus, the protection I wanted to bestow on Mazie was something I couldn’t do as an ordinary citizen. I know how much her life changed and her outlook on people has altered since then.
It’s practically made her a recluse. I’m not sure she even has friends outside of me and her siblings. Not anymore. Her trust in people has diminished. Not that I can blame her. After what she went through, it’s not hard to see why she lost the fun-loving party girl side of herself. At first, the change in her sliced deep, but now it’s more of a nagging sting, a reminder of an old injury.
The smells coming from the kitchen make my mouth water. Alina may be the chef of the family, but their mom was always in the kitchen. They had home-cooked meals every night. Far different from my upbringing of fast food or microwave dinners. That was the most cooking Mom ever did, pressing the buttons on the microwave.
I try not to blame her. Life gave her a rough hand, raising me alone after Dad split. He, I do blame. A lot. He woke up one morning and just decided marriage and a kid weren’t for him. Mom had to work two jobs to afford to stay in our house in Juniper Grove. She didn’t want to tear me away from the friends I’d made, which were really just Mazie and Eli. But I always had a place in their home.
The home cooked meals I ate were Jenna Baker's. She was my second mom, and the only reason I never considered her first is because I knew how much my own mother was busting her ass for me. But Paul, he was the only father figure I ever had.
Their death hurt me almost as much as their own kids.
Without asking, I know the pancakes that M is whipping up are the same ones Jenna made every Saturday morning. I was lucky enough to be privy to their deliciousness from a young age, and even if I hadn’t slept over the night before, I was welcomed into their home at seven in the morning.
“You look far away. What’s going on?” Mazie slides a plate in front of me, her brow furrowed.
“Just reminiscing. That’s all.” I try not to bring up the past around any of the Bakers. It’s easier than watching their demeanor change, their faces fall, their color drain.
Even over a decade later, it still happens.
Mazie has been doing better recently, finally able to say the word “family” again and reference her parents. They all had their own struggles, and I know they’ve all had therapy because of it.
I shovel a forkful of heavenly fluffy chocolate chip pancakes into my mouth. “Delicious, as always.”
“Thank you.” She flicks off the burner and sits opposite me at the table with her own plate and cup of coffee.
For a while, Mazie tried to make Alina and Liv pancakes on Saturdays like Jenna had. But not only was she not that great at it yet, it was too painful of a memory.
I wonder how she handles it now and if the process is dripping with dread and heartache.
“I promise to be out of your hair soon. I’ll finish these up and go.”
She rests her hand on mine and my heart races. “Stop. You’re never a bother. You’re my best friend, Zach. I like having you here.”
I ignore the sting of only ever being her friend. “Except you surely weren’t expecting me last night. And I wasn’t exactly in prime condition. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
Her eyes twinkle as she looks at me. “I don’t mind taking care of you.”
Our gazes stay locked on one another’s for a moment, and it feels like there’s more between us.
But I clear my throat and shake the thought away.
Mazie could never be interested in me. She’s made it clear that we are friends, and I’d hate to risk losing my closest friend by making an unwanted move.
It’s why I keep my love for her to myself, close to the vest, and tell nobody. Not even Eli knows.