His features slackened, and I was pretty sure I saw him bite his bottom lip for a second before his forehead was lined all over again as he shook his head. “At no point in my life have I ever not wanted to be your friend,” he told me in a stricken voice, “and I know you wouldn’t lie, kiddo.” His gaze was solid and steady. “But you’ve gotta believe me that I wouldn’t have ignored you, and I wouldn’t lie about that either. I wouldn’t lie to you period.”
Well, I could believe it, because it had happened.
But…
“You don’t believe me.”
Ah, shit. “I think you believe you wouldn’t have done that, but—” You had. “—I texted and called you, and that’s the truth.”
“I would have texted you, Peewee,” he insisted.
But he hadn’t. Because I would have responded.
“I was busy back then. Everything was crazy, but I—” He swallowed, and again, I knew what he was thinking. What he wanted to say but didn’t want to say. I wouldn’t have forgotten you, but he had.
Otherwise, he would have tried harder to communicate with me over the years.
Maybe he had asked Boogie about me.
Maybe he had thought about me from time to time at the beginning, when he was imagining messaging me back, but after a while, he’d forgotten.
And we both knew it.
And in a way, I was glad he wasn’t forcing himself to get that claim out.
It would have just been worse.
So when he aimed strained, light blue eyes at me, I didn’t know what to tell him, how to comfort him, because honestly, I needed a little bit of comforting too. Mine wasn’t out of guilt though; it was just at the reality. At the loss.
“Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, okay? There’s no point in… pointing fingers.” Because we both knew who had the biggest finger pointed. It wasn’t freaking me.
Zac stared. “No, it does matter, darlin’. It matters to me. I haven’t seen your face in ten goddamn years, and I don’t understand why, and the more I think about it, the more it’s pissin’ me off.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
He kept going. “You used to hug me all the time, mess with me all the time.” His mouth went tight and flat. “Now, you treat me like we barely know each other; you barely joke with me.”
“I joke with you.” That sounded weak even to me.
He shook his head and blew out a breath that made his lips do a raspberry. “Peewee, I’ve got my heart up to here.” He gestured toward his neck. “And I’m gettin’ pissed off.”
“At me?”
“No, honey, not at you. At… everything. Myself.” His gaze strayed upward, and he blew another breath. “How the hell did that happen? I don’t understand.”
What did he want me to say?
Those blue eyes moved back toward me, and that time he sighed, his shoulders going down in the same way they had back when I’d told him about Paw-Paw, like just, down and sad and unsure.
And honestly, I hated it.
“No wonder you look at me like that,” he stated quietly.
My heartbeat was in my throat, but I asked anyway, knowing I shouldn’t, knowing it was mean to make him feel worse. “Like how?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “All nice like a stranger. Jokin’ with me and then rememberin’ that you don’t wanna do that.” Zac looked away for a moment. “I missed ten years of your life, kiddo. I didn’t even recognize you at first. I didn’t think I could feel like more of a piece of shit than I did that other night, but I do.”
He had missed ten years, but I’d missed ten years out of his too.
And that had been my choice.
I sighed and took a step closer to him, closer to that tall, lean body that I was sure had to be a wallpaper on hundreds of women’s cell phones. To that face that really did deserve to be on the cover of magazines far more often. I reached over to grab his warm forearm and said, “I could’ve reached out to you too, but my feelings were hurt.” It was the truth. But I didn’t want him to focus on that too much. “I’m sorry, Zac. I honestly thought you just didn’t want me around anymore.” That was the truth too, even more so than my first statement, and that was enough drama for me. Enough sadness. I didn’t want to talk about the other shit; this was exhausting enough. And there was even less of a point in bringing that up than this.
I knew that.
So I gave him more of my honesty. I gave him a tiny piece of me that I knew I’d been suppressing around him. For my safety. “I missed your big, dumb face too, Snack Pack.”
His eyes widened. Those dark, nearly blond eyelashes fell slowly over them. And that mouth of his parted slightly.
In surprise?
I gave him a little smile in return. A smile that I wanted to be bigger, but I was holding onto it for a second longer. To make sure. To not overstep myself.
And then he blinked and gave me a little piece of himself too.
“You coulda just said ‘dumb face.’ You know I’m sensitive about my big head,” Zac deadpanned, quietly, almost hesitant.
I couldn’t help it; I nodded at him. “You grew into your big head, if that makes you feel any better.”
His mouth quirked just a little bit more. “It does. Thank you, darlin’.”
My grin went wide despite the warning alarms going off in my head that tried to remind me of what this was, of what my expectations should be.
But Zac’s smile was like one of those slow-motion blossoming flowers on the nature channel.
I only partially hated myself for loving it—not because I loved him like that, but because I still cared so much. And sometimes it was easier not to care about people—at least people who weren’t as invested in you as you were
