by Kyra Fox
“Sorry.” I give her a sheepish smile. “I, uh, couldn’t resist.”
“It’s okay.” She smiles a small smile and futilely tries to tuck her bangs behind her ear.
“What’s up?” I give her bang a light tug to get her attention. It’s a bit of a childish gesture, but I can’t help it, that purple streak tickling the corner of her eye is begging for it, and Zoe doesn’t seem to mind, so I roll with it.
“Nothing.” Her smile is wary.
I raise an eyebrow and shoot her a look that makes it clear I’m not buying her bullshit. “All those things you said about me.” She shrugs.
“You still don’t believe me?” I feel my chest deflate, and a bitter taste spreads through my mouth.
“I believe you; you didn’t really leave any room for doubt.” She smiles at me with a sexy smirk. “But I can’t stop thinking… If we would have met under different circumstances, would you have even seen me?”
“Of course, I would have seen you, Zoe.” She shakes her head and sighs with resignation. I pull over and turn to her and just stare, waiting for her to look back.
“How many times do you think we crossed paths, passed by one another and just kept walking without noticing each other?” Her gaze lifts to me. “Even if you would have noticed me, you probably wouldn’t have bothered to stop.”
“And you?” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Would you stop and talk to me, or would you have just kept walking?”
“I would have kept walking.” She admits. “I would have figured you’d run once you realized how smart I am so I wouldn’t have bothered to begin with.”
“I almost did run.” She laughs sardonically when I bring up our first encounter.
“I remember.” She leans back, wringing her hands with another sigh of resignation.
“And yet, here we are. You want to know why?” Zoe nods. “Because I see you, Zoe.”
ZOE
As we resume our drive to the pub, I replay Mac’s words in my head.
“I see you, Zoe.”
It scares me, how much I believe that to be true. He seems to see more in me than I can myself, than my two best friends can. He seems to know me without really knowing anything about me. What scares me, even more, is how much I want to see those things in myself as well, see myself through Mac’s eyes.
I suspect this part of me he sees so clearly is something only present when he’s around, an aspect of me that he inspires, and without him, this version of me won’t exist.
“You’re doing that thing again.” He pulls up at the curb near the pub. “When you overthink things.”
“Can’t help it. Too many grey cells.” I grin at him.
“Well, I happen to have a foolproof way of shutting those pesky cells up.” Mac wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I laugh, leaning forward to steal a kiss before he gets out of the truck.
“It’s kind of weird, isn’t it?” Mac says as he opens the door for me and takes my hand, helping me down from my seat. “Going on a first, or maybe second date after we’ve already had crazy good sex. A bit intimidating.”
“Why is it intimidating?” I notice Mac hasn’t let go of my hand even though we’re already walking toward the pub.
“Well, what if the date sucks?” His shoulders pull up to his ears. “What if we have nothing to talk about or if suddenly you realize I’m too dumb for you.”
“Or you realize that I’m boring,” I add.
“You are anything but boring, Dr. Lawrence.”
“And you are anything but dumb, Mr. Mackenzie,” I retort. “So, we’re going to walk into that pub, get a beer and something decadently deep-fried, and enjoy each other’s interesting and smart company, okay?”
Mac stops at the door of the pub and pulls me into a kiss—one of those soft kisses that steal your breath away and make your heart stop.
“You are very bossy, Zoe Lawrence.” He grins at me and takes my hand in his again, opening the door to the pub. “I like it.”
The place is already packed, but there are two available seats at the bar. Mac leads me to them and shoots one of his signature panty-melting grins to the bartender, a pretty blonde with a crazy snake tattoo coiled along her arm and over her back with the head slithering in between her breasts down under her shirt.
“Bitsie.” Mac grins and leans over the bar to give Bitsie a peck on the cheek. “How’s it hanging?”
“The usual.” Bitsie shrugs and then turns her attention to me. “You’re pretty.”
“Thank you.” I feel my cheeks heat. “So are you.”
“Are you for real blushing?” Bitsie laughs and pulls out three shot glasses. “That is legit adorable. What’s your poison?”
“Rum.” I don’t hesitate. Most people see it as an odd choice, but a good rum is as much a quality drink as good whiskey.
“That’s not what I expected.” Bitsie looks surprised, but Mac is just examining me with curiosity.
“Zoe is full of surprises. Amazing, fun surprises.” He grins at me, and I feel my cheeks heat even more in response. “Like an R-rated piñata.”
“I see.” Bitsie is pouring us Zacapa 23, her amused gaze darting between Mac and me, still staring at each other. “You guys need me to slip you a key to the backroom?”
“No!” I yell just as Mac says yes.
“To R-rated piñatas!” Bitsie lifts her shot and we clink glasses with a “hear, hear,” after which we order Blue Moon, Fish and Chips and a burger with a side of fries.
“So, you and Bitsie, did you two hook-up?” I look at Bitsie as she glides between patrons. She moves like a dancer, delicate on the one hand but also fierce and full of confidence, and I have to admit I’m kind of girl-crushing on her.
“I have one too many organs between my legs and two too few on my torso.” Mac takes a sip from his beer and continues as if reading my mind. “But she definitely had her eye on you until she realized we’re on a date, so if you want to go for it…” He leaves the rest of the sentence hanging in the air as he grins at me suggestively.
“You know, skipping college like I did, I also skipped the whole sexual experimentation phase.” I tap my finger on my upper lip as if in deep thought. “I am a scientist, after all. I should empirically quantify my attraction to the same sex as well as to the opposite sex.”
“Damn.” Mac clears his throat and gazes at me with a wide-eyed smirk. “How did you manage to make that simultaneously kind of nerdy and really sexy?”
I slide my hand up Mac’s thigh as discreetly as I can under the bar until I reach his zipper and he suppresses a groan with a sip of his beer.
“Is that the stick you use to get all the prizes out of the piñata, Mr. Mackenzie?”
He chokes a bit on his beer. “You’re incorrigible.”
I flash him a wicked smile and lean in.
“You think Bitsie would also think it’s nerdy?” I perk up looking for her. “Maybe I should take her to the backroom and ask.”
“Yeah, and she’ll love it every bit as much as I do.” Mac smiles with a blush. “You are a very intriguing human being, Zoe. I am going to enjoy getting to know you.”
A swarm of butterflies swoops through my stomach. “I’d like to get to know you too, Mac.”
He seems to want to say something, but just then the food arrives and looking at the mouthwatering dishes, I realize I’m hungrier than I thought. I mean, a quiche and salad can only keep a girl going for so long.
“So, tell me something about yourself; something first, or maybe second date appropriate.” I dip a battered piece of deep-fried cod into the tartar sauce and take a bite, rolling my eyes with a groan at how good it tastes.
“Like what?” Mac’s gaze is fixated on my face, his eyes glued to my mouth, a fry he had just dipped in mustard paused midway.
“Well, you told me you started working at Lenny’s when you were a teen. Why?”
“That’s hardly first, or maybe second date material.” He wipes his mouth and seems to
think about how to answer. “My mom raised us alone. I needed to help pay the bills, and Lenny gave me a job.”
I can tell that’s a very shallow version of the story told in a somewhat snippy manner, but as intrigued as I am, Mac seems to have closed off, and I don’t want to push him too hard on our first, maybe second date.
“Us?” I change the subject, and Mac seems relieved.
“Yeah, I have a younger brother, Philip.” Mac smiles and pulls out his phone, showing me a picture of a much younger version of himself but with hazel eyes. “He’s in California. He’s majoring in political science at Berkeley, has his eyes set on law school.”
“That’s impressive.” I can’t help but melt a bit at how excited Mac sounds when he talks about his brother, so full of pride as if he’s showing off his own child.
“What about you?” Mac seems relaxed again, and I make a mental note to steer clear of conversations about his childhood for the near future.
“Well, my parents divorced when I was a year old, but they still regularly spend time together, which can be very confusing sometimes but nice in a way that I don’t have to celebrate holidays twice.” I pull out my phone and pull up a photo. “And this is Luke, he’s my half-brother from my dad. He’s thirteen years my senior, and that’s my niece Kimber-lee, she’s seven now.”
“She’s adorable.” Mac smiles warmly at the picture, and I feel another stir in my abdomen, so I grab his burger and take a large bite. “Hey!”
“I’m also out of beer.” I grin with my cheeks full of food and Mac looks at me with an expression that if I didn’t know better, I’d peg as adoration.
The conversation keeps flowing, and I’m quickly proving my point that Mac was worried about nothing; everything between us is easy and comfortable, and it feels like we’ve known each other for years. So, when it’s time to go I’m a bit disappointed.
Bitsie jumps over the bar and gives me a giant hug. “Mac’s been sitting at that bar since he could legally drink. You’re the only date he’s ever brought here,” she whispers in my ear, and I feel heat pool on my cheeks.
“Stop hitting on her, Bitsie.” Mac gives Bitsie a kiss on the cheek and takes my hand, leading me across the street into a building with one of those ancient neon signs from the fifties reading “Sticks,” the dot on the ‘i’ being an eight ball and two crossed cue sticks always luminescent under the flashing word.
A few heads turn our way when we walk in, and Mac leads me in their direction.
“Everybody, this is Zoe.” Mac’s hand is still placed on the small of my back, making a silent claim that doesn’t go unnoticed by his friends. “Zoe this is Tim, he works with me at the shop, Linda works at the diner across the street from the shop, Gina is Tim’s sister and her husband Rick, they run a pet shop together, and this is Oscar. No one knows what he does, really, but his brother owns this place.”
I can smell the type from a mile away. I had bailed college friends from hustlers so many times I knew I was standing in front of one the second I was introduced. Mac gives me a warning glare, but I just wink at him, his expression is so adorably confused it makes me want to kiss him.
“Would you be interested in a round on the 9-footer?” Oscar indicates a pool table.
“Sure, sounds like fun.” Oscar gives me a charming smile and goes to pay for a table.
“Don’t, Zoe, Oscar’s a hustler.” Mac’s looking at me with concern. “An expert one.”
“See, that’s his weakness.” I flash a wicked grin. “He thinks he’s so smart, but I’m smarter than him.”
Mac just looks at me like I’m crazy but backs off, realizing there’s no convincing me.
“Are you familiar with the rules of 8-ball?” Oscar returns with a tray of stripes and solids.
“I’ve played a couple of times.” I bite my lower lip with a shy smile and look down. “You may have to remind me of the rules, though.”
“Sure, Darling, I’ll remind you.” Oscar has a sly glint in his eye. “But it isn’t a real game of 8-ball if there isn’t money on the table.”
“I only have one-hundred-dollar bills.” I pout. “Should I go get change?”
“No, Darling, that’s fine.” Oscar rubs his hands together. “That’s just fine.”
And I know I’ve already won.
MAC
“I believe you owe me two hundred dollars.” Zoe is grinning from ear to ear, her hand stretched out to Oscar, who’s standing in front of her with his jaw dropped to the floor. The entire crew is roaring with laughter, including me, though I suspect I’m the only one also sporting a semi.
Oscar begrudgingly hands her the bills and grumbles something about going to take a piss, stalking away to lick his wounds. I wish I weren’t driving so I could cheer with them, but as I am, I’ve been limiting myself to water since we left Baron’s.
“Put a ring on that girl’s finger, Mac.” Tim’s grin is wider than his face is big enough for, having been the only one of us to fall for Oscar’s hustle he’s taking more pleasure than the rest of us in what just transpired. “Or I will.”
Though I know Tim would never make a move on a friend’s girl, the standup guy that he is, I still hop off my stool, handing Zoe her beer, and snaking an arm around her waist. I pull her back to my chest and shoot Tim a death glare, which is met by a knowing smile before he turns to chat with Rick.
“You have no idea how hot that was,” I whisper in her ear. “You just hustled the hustler. That brain of yours is so fucking sexy, Goddess.”
She had let Oscar do the whole “Oh no, I lost, you’re so good, let’s go double or nothing” routine, smiling her sweet innocent smile and even letting him break to give him a head start. Then when he thought he had the upper hand, she scrunched her face with a worried expression and said “Oh dear,” in her most concerned motherly voice, before proceeding to throw a string of complicated mathematical calculations on the angles and velocity of Oscar’s planned shot. Meanwhile, she somehow manages to insert her science Ph.D. into the monolog, throwing Oscar so off his game he was nowhere close to sinking his ball in any hole whatsoever.
Of course, Zoe then proceeded to clean the table, and just to drive the knife deeper, she only took crazy complicated shots. This ever-surprising woman could trigonometry the hell out of a pool table.
“I wish no one were here so you could just throw me on the pool table and show me how fucking sexy you think my brain is.” Well, so much for the semi.
“I thought I was on time out.” I’m pushing my luck reminding her, but I can’t help but tease her. Zoe is about to answer when she’s interrupted.
“Lost puppy alert.” Linda’s declaration has all heads turning to the entrance.
She’s not wrong. The guy who just walked in is around my age, maybe an inch less in height but looks even shorter due to his hands tucked deep into his jeans pockets and his slumped shoulders. His disheveled scissor cut hair is dark brown, it looks like he hasn’t shaved in days, and his weirdly familiar brown eyes dart around the room with a lost gaze.
“Brian!” Zoe calls out and waves. The guy immediately looks up with relief and walks over in our direction.
For a second, I feel a surge of jealousy run through me. Sure, this Brian type looks kind of down and gloomy, that unkempt beard doing him zero favors, but he’s still a pretty good-looking guy. Only then I remember Zoe asking if she could invite her cousin, and I realize that’s why Brian seems familiar, his eyes are a different shade of brown but aside from that they’re pretty much identical to Zoe’s.
“Is everything okay with your cousin?” I ignore the untypical feeling of jealousy I had just experienced, trying to remind myself that this is only a first, or maybe second date.
“It’s a long story.” Zoe shrugs and my curiosity piques, but I let it go for now.
“Hey, Zo.” Brian finally takes one hand out of his pocket and hugs Zoe, who throws her arms around his neck and squeezes him with an abundance of sisterly love.
/> “B, this is Mac.” She steps aside and introduces us. “Mac, this is Brian, my cousin, and Phoebe’s older brother.” Shaking Brian’s hand, I register that despite the low-spirited vibes, Brian has a solid handshake, the kind that instills confidence and makes you like a guy from the get-go.
“I have to admit I’m confused by that last part.” While the shared genetics between Zoe and Brian are very apparent, Phoebe and Brian have zero physical attributes in common.
“I’m adopted,” Brian provides. “When my mother died at birth, and my biological father signed a waiver of parental rights about a week after and left me with his now-former best friend and best friends’ wife, they decided to adopt me even though she was three months pregnant with Phoebe.”
“Oh, wow.” I nod in understanding, somewhat surprised at the ease with which he had just shared that story with a stranger. “That sucks, man. My dad walked out on us, too; it’s never an easy card to be dealt.” I can feel Zoe’s eyes on my face, but I don’t want to look to see the pity I don’t doubt is in them.
Brian seems to have lost some of his melancholy and is looking at me with curiosity.
“Yeah, I was lucky, though,” he says, finally breaking the tense silence. “Anyway, Zoe’s mom and my biological father are twins, which is why we look more like brother and sister than Phoebe and I do.”
“Our family dynamics are really complicated,” Zoe provides at my puzzled look.
“Yeah, it’s going to take time to wrap my head around that one.” I exhale sharply. “Beer?” Brian nods, and I catch the waitress for another round while Zoe introduces him around, letting Tim drag him onto a stool next to him relaying the epic tale of how Zoe had made Oscar cry as she beat him at his own game.
“That’s us Dukes for you.” Brian laughs as Tim’s arms wave wildly through the air, trying to demonstrate how the balls flew in crazy angles all over the table. “We bat our big brown eyes, and you forget that our IQ is probably higher than that of all the people in the room combined.”