Chapter 7 Zoey
ZOEY
Tate: Did you ask him out yet?
I stare down at my phone, wondering if my cousin has ESP or a webcam inside the bar. I glance up, watching Hunter, Lizzy, and his little girl.
It hadn’t even crossed my mind that he could be a dad.
I don’t know why it seemed so farfetched, and my jaw nearly hit the floor when he introduced her.
A man in his mid-thirties is bound to have one or two little ones running around.
Heck, many women my age do too, but I often forget just how old I am at times.
Me: No. I don’t want to date.
I sigh, setting my phone down next to me as I refill a beer for a regular.
“You’re looking extra pretty tonight, Zoey,” Mr. Walsh, someone I’ve known since I was knee-high, says as I set the drink down in front of him. “Have a special guy yet?”
“No, Mr. Walsh. I’m enjoying the single life.”
“Attagirl,” he says, giving me a smile that makes the lines near his eyes deepen. “Men are nothing but trouble.”
“Your lips to God’s ears,” I whisper to myself before I notice another text from my nosy cousin.
Tate: Okay. So, just sex. Do it.
I’m surprised her message isn’t in the family group chat, using the power of numbers to gang up on me. Peer pressure in my family is a real thing, and it is often used and successful.
Me: He’s a dad.
I don’t know what fatherhood has to do with anything, but I am running out of excuses that satisfy anyone.
Tate: It means he knows what he’s doing.
I groan as soon as I read her words.
Me: I don’t know him.
Tate: I have for years. Solid dude. Good dad. Talented artist. I wouldn’t push you toward him if he were a shithead.
That is true. My cousin knows what happened to me. If she had any doubts about Hunter, she wouldn’t tell me to date him either.
Me: I’m not ready.
Tate: Who is? I wasn’t when I met Wylder. The man was like a bulldozer to my cold, dead heart.
“Zoey,” another regular calls out, lifting his hand in the air to further get my attention.
“What’s up, Chuck?” I ask as soon as I’m close enough for him to hear me easily over the noise of the crowd.
“Dirty martini with extra olives.” Chuck smiles, showing off his missing tooth.
And I don’t know why, but the blank space always puts a grin on my face. Chuck’s an ex-pro hockey player. Someone my Uncle Vinnie knows from years back since they were both former professional athletes with deep roots in the area and well-known to every Chicago sports fan.
“You got it,” I tell him before I walk away, sneaking a peek at my phone before I make his drink.
Me: I don’t think he likes me.
Tate: Don’t be ridiculous. What’s not to like?
“He keeps looking at you,” Mason says as he comes to stand beside me with a handful of dirty glasses.
“Who?” I ask, not bothering to look at my cousin, keeping my attention on the task at hand.
“Hunter,” he says plainly as he places the empty glasses in the sink between us.
My heart beats a little faster in my chest. Too fast, really. I shouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter if he is looking at me or not. We aren’t a thing, and I don’t see a path for us in the future either.
“And?” I ask, my voice dripping with annoyance.
Mason hip checks me, nearly causing me to spill the vodka. “He likes you, and somehow I’m okay with that.”
I drop the little spear with three olives into the drink before I turn my full attention toward my cousin. “Does it matter if you’re okay with it?”
“I’m your cousin.”
“Uh, yeah, cousin. Not my father,” I remind him. “I don’t need your approval.”
He lifts his hands as he jerks his head back. “Touchy, touchy. What’s your problem?”
“Everyone’s in my business.”
“Welcome to my world, Zo. You two have been bossing me around my entire life. But I’m not telling you what to do, just stating a fact. The man likes you.”
“And you’re okay with that because…?”
“He seems like a nice guy.” My cousin’s gaze swings toward the table across the bar where the three of them are sitting. “Look at them. They genuinely like each other, and based on how his kid is interacting with him, he’s not an asshole. You need someone who’s a nice guy.”
Nice guys have never been my thing. That’s how I got myself in this pickle to begin with. The bigger the asshole, the more I liked them. Enter Mark, a guy I had a fling with until he violated my trust in a way no man ever should.
“I’ll mark you down for a yes, then, to go along with Tate.”
“Tate?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “How does she factor into this?”
“Remember, your sister is his boss,” I tell him before marching away with Chuck’s drink. “Sorry for the delay.”
“No worries,” Chuck says, lifting the drink as soon as I set it down. “Mason hassling you?”
Part of me wants to say yes, but I know Chuck would give him shit all night, and Mason doesn’t really deserve that. “No, he’s just being Mason. Family, am I right?”
Chuck hums his agreement. “Try having five siblings.”
“Five?” My body recoils in shock. I can’t imagine raising one Chuck, let alone five more. “Your poor mother.”
“The woman’s going straight to heaven with all of our bullshit she had to put up with when we were little.” Chuck laughs and shakes his head. “Hell, we’re a lot to handle even today, but somehow, she takes it all in stride. I think we broke her spirit a long time ago.”
“No doubt,” I tell him. “Holler if you need anything else.”
“You got it, kiddo.” Chuck smiles again, lifting his glass toward me in thanks before I saunter away and back toward the middle of the bar, where Mason is still standing.
“You want to take them their check?” I ask him as I print out the bill.
“No, that’s all you,” he says, stalking away.
“Asshole,” I mutter and shake my head.
As soon as I head toward their table, my gaze lands on Hunter, and his eyes are pinned on me.
I swallow hard, trying not to stumble over my own two feet because there’s something about the way he looks at me that’s alarming.
Not in the murdery kind of way, but in the way that says he’d make my toes curl.
“That pizza was phenomenal, Zoey,” Lizzy, his sister, says before I have a chance to place their bill on the table.
“Thanks. It’s not hard to love something covered in cheese,” I reply with a smile, sliding the bill into the middle because I’m not sure who’s paying.
Hunter snags the slip of paper before his sister has a chance and turns it over, reading the amount.
“Tomorrow, I’d like to get the best Chinese food the city has to offer. Any recommendations?” Lizzy asks. “I tried to do a quick search, but there are so many options.”
“If you want the best, you have to go to Chinatown,” I tell her as I try to stand still but fail. I can feel Hunter’s eyes on me, and it’s completely unnerving.
Lizzy gasps. “There’s a Chinatown here?”
“Yes, and it’s not far from here either,” I reply.
“This is amazing,” she says, looking to her brother. “Maybe you picked the right city after all.”
“The city has a lot to offer,” Hunter says.
My gaze dips to him, and my body instantly heats at the way he’s looking at me.
I clear my throat as I glance over my shoulder, needing to break eye contact with Hunter. “I gotta get back to work. Mason needs my help,” I say as I’m about to run away to the safety behind the bar.
Hunter reaches into his back pocket and fishes out his wallet as his sister continues to talk. “Before you go, do you have a favorite restaurant in Chinatown?”
“The Evergreen,” I tell her. “It’s at the end of the street and has been my go-to for years.”
“Perfect,” Lizzy says. “Thanks.”
“Do they have fried rice?” Amira asks, looking between Lizzy and me.
“Of course,” she tells her as she taps Amira on the nose.
I glance down again because I’m a glutton for punishment, and when Hunter’s looking right at me, I can’t think, but I nearly run away like an idiot.