His breath caught and he stepped back from the door after she pulled it open. Macie stood before him in nothing but a thin black robe, drying her hair with a matching towel.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Zac,” she said. Her robe opened further, dangerously close to exposing herself to him and anyone else who happened into the hallway. Macie didn’t pull it together, either. She moved to her left and motioned for him to enter. “I got stuck late at work in a ... meeting. I’m running a little behind. Didn’t you get my text?”
“No, I didn’t.” He choked on the words, looking everywhere except her smooth skin. Macie had always been beautiful in a no-nonsense way. She hadn’t cared what other people thought of her and that kind of confidence added to her sex appeal. Zac walked past her into the apartment. It was smaller than he’d anticipated. A tiny kitchenette lined the wall in front of him with a two burner stove and small oven. The fridge wasn’t anything more than he’d find in a hotel and fit under the cabinets. She didn’t have a dishwasher or even a full size sink. But that didn’t stop her from cooking. A slow cooker sat on the counter, emitting the most glorious smell of roast and potatoes. He inhaled and grinned. “You really didn’t have to.”
Macie smiled and turned away from him toward what he assumed was the small bathroom. Over her shoulder she said, “Make yourself at home. I’ll only be a few more minutes.”
Zac watched her sashay away until she clicked the door closed behind her. He turned toward the living room. Or was it the bedroom? He hadn’t seen any other doors so it must be both. Macie could probably live more efficiently if she moved into a complex like his. And probably cheaper than this place. He’d have to ask her how much her rent was. Could he? They were trying this whole friend thing so being concerned about her finances was natural and she’d mentioned discussing investments. Were they at that point? He didn’t think so, but with Macie he never knew.
He sat on the futon and stared at the spread on the flat trunk in front of him. A large planner caught his eye. He knew he shouldn’t but he picked it up anyway. Inside was everything that had to do with Lauren and Ford’s wedding. And he meant everything. Macie even had the measurements for the groomsmen, including his. Each day was a play by play leading up to the wedding. Zac had no idea Macie was this organized. It was impressive.
He put the planner back on the trunk and picked up a bulky portfolio. The first page was a mixed media art piece that took his breath away. Watercolors swirled an ocean wave behind a small wooden boat floating on the surface of the peaceful sea. The boat had been hand crafted with rough edges and no paint. He ran his finger over the waves, realizing there was crystalline element to it he hadn’t noticed before. Whatever she’d used to make it stand out like this added to the 3D element of the boat. It was incredible. He’d known Macie had talent, but this was far beyond what he’d ever seen her do.
His gaze shifted around the small apartment, seeing things he hadn’t noticed before. A small painting of autumn leaves, on an actual leaf, hung above a worn chair. A sculpture of a dancer covered in silver and gold foil sat on the desk under the window. His gaze settled on the easel he’d noticed when he first walked in. Black, white, and gray oil paints swirled on the large canvas, delving into light then darkness. Smaller swirls circled around the edge, as if being sucked into a vortex.
“That’s not finished yet,” Macie said.
Zac ripped his gaze from the art and turned it toward her. Her hair was still damp, falling down her shoulders in a cascade of chocolate. The shoulders of her white shirt were also damp. Macie was dangerously close to winning a one person wet t-shirt contest. Her smooth legs drew his attention, but he knew that was even more dangerous territory. Why’d she have to put on shorts? Zac diverted his eyes back to the art. He wanted to stare at her longer, but that wasn’t the best idea. Long term enemies trying to become civil didn’t warrant sexual tension, but he felt it anyway. It wasn’t the first time, either.
“It’s still amazing,” he said, not entirely sure if he was talking about the painting or her long legs. He motioned to the portfolio. “They all are. Why not show them in a gallery?”
“Not good enough.” The mattress dipped beside him, but he kept his gaze on the boat. “And it’s harder than you think to get a show at a gallery.”
“Is that why you went into graphic design instead of art?” He glanced at her legs out of the corner of his eye.
“Graphic design is art, just a different form.” She tucked her legs under her rear and pulled her t-shirt over her knees.
“Sorry, I didn’t...” He closed his eyes and inhaled. It was just Macie. Smartass, annoying Macie. He opened his eyes and turned toward her. “This is weird.”
Macie threw her head back and laughed, something he rarely saw or heard. Her normal expression toward him was a harsh scowl so this was a pleasant surprise. One he wasn’t sure how to feel about, but he liked it nonetheless. “You have no idea.” She pulled her legs out from underneath her and reached for the planner. “Let’s get started. There’s a lot to do and I’ve planned or pre-planned most of it.”
“I noticed.” He leaned forward as
