A smile tugged at his lips. “Never.”
Then she punched him. His upper arm throbbed where she’d hit him. He wanted to rub it, but that would mean admitting she’d hurt him. Never going to happen.
“You should get your money back from that dojo,” Zac said, turning toward her until her face was eye level to his chest. He loved that Macie was half a foot shorter. Not that anything intimidated her, but she hated people making an issue of her height. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees, and spoke to her like the errant toddler she could be. “It’s clear you can’t throw a punch to save your ass.”
Macie pulled her arm back, but Ford grabbed it and spun her toward him and away from Zac. Ford glared at his best friend. Zac felt bad for about two seconds, give or take, but no more. Just last week Macie had announced how small he was in front of a girl he was on the verge of asking out. The girl giggled and cut out faster than a cheetah toward an antelope. Macie smiled and strolled away, swinging her hips a little extra just for him. Okay, he may have imagined the extra swagger.
“Why do you guys insist on provoking each other?” Ford asked as Macie pushed past him, leaving Ford the only person between her and Zac.
Lauren rose from the couch and stood beside her future husband. “We hate it.”
“Hate’s a strong word,” Ford said gently.
“No, not in this case.” Lauren grabbed Macie’s hand and pulled her toward Zac. “We’ve put up with this for almost four years.” Lauren glanced between them. Macie avoided her friend’s gaze, and by default, Zac’s. “I don’t care what happens after the wedding. You guys can avoid each other as much as you want. But for now, at least learn how to fake getting along.” Lauren squeezed Macie’s shoulder. “Mace, you’ve been more than my best friend. You’ve been my sister, and I can’t stand the thought that you’d let Zac come between us.”
“What?” Macie roared. The lioness had returned. Zac enjoyed the way her face lit up with indignation. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Lauren remained calm, but her hands shook in front of her. “Are you going to avoid me for the rest of your life?” She pointed at Zac, and Macie’s gaze followed her finger. “Zac knew you were coming tonight, but that didn’t stop him from showing up.”
“He’s the one who started all this,” Macie snapped.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Zac put his hands up in defense. “I didn’t start anything. You did, Chomper.”
Macie turned her fiery gaze at him, sending Zac back a step. “Stop. Calling. Me. That.”
“Look, guys,” Ford said, always playing the intermediary. He put one hand on Macie’s shoulder and the other on Zac’s. “We’re not asking you to become friends, just be friendly. No more hitting.” Macie raised her eyebrows. “No more name calling.” Zac smirked. He loved calling her Chomper. It pissed her off. “No more anger. Just ... fake it if you have to. After the wedding, you can go back to hating each other. Okay?”
“Sure,” Zac said, offering his hand to Macie.
Macie scoffed, but she didn’t agree or disagree.
“Come on, Macie,” Zac said. “It can be their wedding present.”
Macie dropped her hands to her sides and stared at the ceiling. “Fine.”
Then her gaze fell to meet his. Zac saw the passion, the hatred, and the anger. He hated to admit that he admired anything about her, but her passion for life was one thing he couldn’t deny. Macie gripped his hand, shaking it firmly. The contact was brief, but Zac noted the silk of palm and the soft callouses on her fingers. His pulsed kicked up a notch, but he shook it off. Macie had surprised him by conceded. It was a rare occurrence.
There were two things Zac was certain of in that moment: it was either going to be fun or it was going to be a nightmare, but Lauren and Ford would never know which.
CHAPTER THREE
The waiter was more interesting than Emily, or was it Emma? Zac couldn’t remember, and he’d picked her up for their date ten minutes ago. And this girl was smoking. She was athletic and defined just enough without being overly built. Her blond hair hung down her back, and her blue eyes were wide like she’d just downed five energy drinks. Except that she was always in constant wonder. God blessed her body, but not her brain. She agreed with everything he said to the point he started making bold, and utterly false, statements.
“Did you see that UFO last night?” he’d asked.
Emily’s smile dropped for a moment before returning. “Yes? Over the north end of town?” She slapped the table excitedly, knocking over her empty water glass. Her gaze dropped to the glass and she giggled. “Wasn’t that amazing?”
“Yeah,” Zac said, dragging the word out. She either really saw a UFO or she faked it well. If she was faking it, she deserved an award. “So...” He thought about his pen-pal and a real smile crossed his face. “Dogs or cats?”
“Both?” Emily sat the water glass back upright.
“Is that a question?” Zac asked. Emily’s eyebrows rolled together like a Shar Pei. Zac shook his head and glanced around the generic chain restaurant he’d brought her to. The walls were lined with imitation antiques. It was like the chain took the restaurant out of a box and plopped it in an empty lot. Instant food and money. This wasn’t his best move, but he couldn’t get a reservation as his go-to place. Plus this was close to campus. “Do you prefer cats or do you prefer dogs?”
Her lips thinned into a stressed line. “What do you prefer?”
“I...” Zac shook his head. What did it matter what he preferred? He wanted her opinion. Giving up on this conversation, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the locked
