Pass me By (BFF Series Book 1)

by Kyra Fox

  “I love your dirty talk when we fuck.” Zoe’s laughing in between pants. I smile and kiss the nape of her neck.

  “I love you.” I freeze the second the words come out of my mouth. It wasn’t deliberate, but the second they’re out I know they’re true. In all but four weeks, I had fallen deeply and wildly in love with Zoe.

  Zoe squirms in a struggle to get out from under me, turning around to face me.

  “I love you, too,” she says when she’s finally looking at me.

  A smile spreads over my face. I lift Zoe by the waist and pull her in for a sweet deep kiss, only to break it when the laughter comes rolling out uncontrollably.

  “I… Um… I’m sorry.” I try to get the laughter under control. “I just never imagined a scenario where I’d say that to a girl with my jeans and trunks around my ankles, and her dress pushed up to her waist after we just fucked like wild animals in a community college lecture hall.”

  I’m shaking my head with disbelief, laughing even harder. Zoe’s chuckling along with me as she pushes her dress back down and turns to finish packing her things.

  “Yeah, well, not exactly the setting I imagined, either, but somehow still perfect.” She smiles at me sweetly as I zip up my jeans and buckle my belt. Walking up to her, I turn her to face me and cup her cheeks.

  “I love you, Dr. Zoe Lawrence, and I’ll say it a million times, in a million different settings, until I get it just right.” I kiss her with tenderness, in complete opposite to the way I had manhandled her a few minutes ago. “Anything to make you happy.”

  “I am happy.” Her fingers are in their usual perch, tangled deep in my hair, her big chestnut doe eyes gleaming at me with complete adoration.

  Everything is perfect at this moment, too perfect, and I can no longer silence that part of me that knows it’s a perfect storm, knows it’s only a matter of time before the wind and rain tear through our lives and ruin everything that’s good.

  Taking Zoe’s hand in mine and slinging her giant tote over my shoulder, I take a silent vow to make the most of the time we have left, to rack up as many good memories as I possibly can to keep me warm in the cold lonely nights which I know without a doubt lay ahead.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MAC

  “What are you wearing?” Zoe’s gaping at me. “We’re going to have dinner with my dad at the new Mexican place, not at church on a Sunday.”

  “I wanted to give a good first impression.” I feel my cheeks turn red, and I look down at my shoes. Zoe’s wearing a simple flowery, bright blue dress and black cardigan sweater, touches of silver and black jewelry and black ankle boots completing her beautiful and sweet casual outfit.

  “Which I appreciate and love you for. But all you have to do to give a first good impression is a firm handshake and be yourself.” She places her hands on my cheeks. “I love you for you, and so will he.”

  “Okay.” I force myself to give her a smile. “Jeans and a button-down?”

  “The red checkered one.” Zoe nods.

  “I’m nervous,” I exhale as I undress. It’s an understatement for sure. I don’t do meet the parents, not in a very long time, and when said parent happens to also be an FBI agent… Let’s just say I may be leaning more toward panic than nerves.

  “I can tell.” Zoe pulls out the new shirt for me to wear, sliding her arms around my bare waist. “You’re not some boy a girl brings to her daddy to rebel anymore. You are a good man, Eric Mackenzie, the kind a woman takes to meet her dad because he’s a keeper.”

  I kiss her, a deep intense kiss that’s fueled by the fire she’s lit in my heart. I’m still anxious, but the fact that Zoe gets me, always knowing what’s weighing me down, and accepts it so easily somehow makes me feel a little better.

  “I love you, Zoe, I really do.” It was only yesterday that we said it for the first time, but it feels so right every time the words leave my mouth.

  “I know, and I love you too.” She beams up at me. “Now, get dressed.”

  We sit in virtual silence on the drive to the restaurant, but Zoe never takes her hand off my knee, squeezing every once in a while, reminding me that she’s there, why I’m there.

  “You want a blow job on the go?” My head swerves to her so quickly that I almost miss that the car in front of me stopped at a red light, hitting the breaks at the last second.

  “What?”

  “You look nervous, I figured some good head might relieve the tension.” She grins at me and wiggles an eyebrow.

  “You’re incorrigible.” I roll my eyes at her, but I’m laughing, and when Zoe starts to laugh with me, I feel my concerns lighten. Somehow, she has this magical ability to soothe me.

  “That’s the place.” She points at a little family restaurant called Señor Hernández, and I start looking for parking. After a couple of drives around the block, I find a spot right across the street from the establishment.

  We walk in silence, hand in hand, and when we enter the restaurant it’s not hard to spot which patron is her father; they have the same smile with that one dimple on the left corner of their mouths, and that same glint in their eyes that makes you feel as if the world can be a good place, even when you know it isn’t.

  He’s having a lively conversation in Spanish with an older man in an apron—I assume it’s the owner, both men laughing whole-heartedly.

  “Hi, Daddy.” Zoe lets go of my hand and throws herself at her dad, who stands up to greet us.

  “Hey, Sunshine.” I can’t help but smile at how fitting the nickname is as he wraps Zoe in a bear hug and kisses the top of her head.

  “Agent Lawrence.” I stretch my hand out when he approaches me and give it a firm shake, half expecting him to squeeze my hand painfully. But he surprises me with a warm shake and a clap on my shoulder.

  “Lee,” he corrects me, and I smile, all memories of being nervous about the encounter fading away. “Señor Hernández recommended a few house specialties, I took the liberty of ordering, hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” The smells wafting from the kitchen are mouthwatering, and my stomach growls. I realize I’ve barely eaten today from how apprehensive I’ve been feeling.

  Señor Hernández walks up to us, holding a tray with glasses and small plates.

  “A few starters and Aguas Frescas, our specialty cocktail, on the house.” Everything he places in front of us looks delicious, colorful food with a spicy aroma, and I can’t wait to dig in.

  “No debería haberse molestado, Señor Hernández.” My limited vocabulary is enough to understand that Lee had told him he shouldn’t have. “Gracias.”

  “Nonsense, love inspires me.” He winks at us. “As do beautiful young women like your daughter.”

  Zoe blushes and raises her glass in thanks, taking a sip. “Oh my God, this is so good!” Her eyes go wide as she squeals with delight.

  “I heard you like rum. We make our Agua Fresca with twenty-year-old Los Valientes Anejo Reserva Especial.” Señor Hernández beams at her. “Yours is strawberry, that’s prickly pear, and that one’s cantaloupe.”

  “I think I’ll need the recipe.” I can’t help but grin at Zoe’s enthusiasm about the cocktail.

  “Secret family recipe.” He makes a zip and lock motion over his lips. “You’ll have to come again.”

  “We will.” I laugh. “Thank you.”

  “This place is great, Dad.” Zoe seems excited to the core about everything as we dig into the starters, and our dishes start flowing out of the kitchen. Everything is incredible.

  Even the conversation flows easily. Zoe talks about her research and her classes, and I know it shouldn’t be so reassuring when her dad asks her questions that indicate he doesn’t completely follow either, but there’s a part of me that’s relieved knowing I’m not the only one in her life who can’t keep up with her.

  We talk about how we met, about Philip and law school, about my work at the shop. Eventually, we can’t avoid the subject of Washington Nati
onals versus the Red Sox, at which point Zoe rolls her eyes and excuses herself.

  “She looks happy.” Lee looks at his daughter as she distances herself from the table to the back of the restaurant.

  “She’s a happy sort of person.” I take another sip from my Tecate, a Mexican beer I’ve never tried before and really like. I should seriously consider expanding my repertoire to beers other than Blue Moon every once in a while, as loyal as I am to the local brews.

  “She has a sunny disposition, that’s true.” I want to tell him it’s an understatement, but I hold my tongue. “But there’s a difference between a cheery nature and being truly happy.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” I wonder if I’m going to get the boyfriend talk before Zoe gets back to the table.

  “You know Luke, Zoe’s older brother?” Lee suddenly asks.

  “Zoe’s told me about him.” It wasn’t a turn I thought this conversation would take.

  “Luke’s mother, we were teenagers when he was conceived. I didn’t know until he showed up at my doorstep when he was fourteen, and Zoe was about a year old. No one even knew about our relationship until then.” I realize that’s when her parent’s divorced and now the pieces click into place as to why.

  “I didn’t know that,” I say quietly, not really knowing what else to say in a situation like this.

  “I love Zoe’s mother, even after all these years that we haven’t been married she’s still the only one, still the person I want to grow old with.” He looks over his shoulder to make sure Zoe isn’t on her way back. “But Kimmy was the great love of my life.”

  “Kimmy as in Kimberly?” I smile. “Your granddaughter’s name is a combination of your names?”

  Lee grins and nods, before his expression turns somber again.

  “I had a really bad childhood, Mac. My father was very abusive, especially toward my older brother. I was the baby; he didn’t really pay any attention to me, but my brother needed to be taught how to be a real man and uphold the family name. Apparently, that meant a world of pain.” He takes a deep breath, creases and wrinkles I hadn’t noticed before painfully visible on his face all of a sudden. “My brother escaped to alcohol and drugs at a very young age, which only made things with our father worse, and only prompted him to heavier substance abuse and so on, an ugly cycle no one could break.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Again, I don’t know what else to say, but it’s a grim reminder that things could have been so much worse for Philip and me.

  “When I was ten, on his sixteenth birthday, my brother took me on a ride in this sports car he had stolen. I was too young and sheltered to realize he was high out of his mind.” Lee glances over his shoulder again. “He crashed the car into the side of a building at a hundred ten miles per hour. He died instantly, but I survived, only because he was so high, he had driven at an angle, so his side of the car took most of the hit. I guess he knew what would happen if he died and left me the only son. In his own way, he was trying to protect me from a dysfunctional parent, something I think you can understand.”

  My mouth is dry, but I don’t dare move a muscle.

  “Everything fell apart after that. My father went to prison, and my mom barely functioned, losing my brother like that. She felt so guilty for not protecting him even though she had been on the receiving end of my father’s cruelty just as much as my brother had.”

  Lee looks up at me pointedly, and I realize he’s reached the point where the story becomes relevant to our situation. “I was numb for a very long time. Until Kimmy somehow managed to slip through the cracks in the walls I built around myself. But I was too scared to accept what she was offering, and when my best friend started showing interest in her I pushed her his way because I thought I was too damaged for her. I never even told her I loved her and by the time I was ready to let her in it was too late.”

  “I’ve told her,” I blurt out. “That I love her.”

  “I’m not saying you’ll necessarily make the same mistakes I did.” Lee’s smile is kind, though I can see the graveness in his eyes, his need to shield Zoe from the debris of my past hurting her the same way his past hurt the girl he loved. “Just try to sort through the shit before you end up drowning in it.”

  I want to tell him everything, ask for his advice on how to do just that, how to protect Zoe from myself. But just then she returns to the table.

  “Have a good talk?” She smirks. “Did he show you his gun?”

  “Only when I said the Celtics are better than the Huskies.” I grin at her, and Lee barks out a laugh, pointing at me in mock warning, and the conversation easily falls back to lighter topics.

  But Lee’s words echo in my head all night. It’s terrifying how they mirror my exact feeling since I met Zoe, this premonition that all this good can’t last forever and it’s only a matter of time before the bad comes knocking at my door.

  Someone else voicing my most inner qualms so vividly makes them that much more real, and tonight more than ever I know it’s not going to be long before I lose Zoe.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ZOE

  At 8:00 pm I’m still sitting at my dining table, strumming my fingers against the laminated wood as I wait for Eric to show up. It’s not like him to be this late, especially when he’s made special plans. Usually on Thursday’s we just stay in or go to Baron’s before meeting the gang at Sticks.

  But tonight, Eric wanted to do something special. He was taking me somewhere fancy and trendy to thank me for throwing him a big birthday at Señor Hernández’s with all our friends. I told him I’d be just as happy going for a picnic in the woods again, but he insisted, told me to dress up and he’ll pick me up at the usual time.

  It’s a bit weird, waiting for him. He’s practically moved into my apartment since we met my dad three weeks ago and for the most part, we leave from here. But I guess he really does have something special planned if he needed to get ready at his place.

  I look down at my red dress. It’s a two-piece with a tight skirt which hugs me from my waist down to right above my knees. The top is long-sleeved with a hint of cleavage, but the main skin exposure is my midriff. I gave some final touches with strappy gold sandals and gold jewelry. I modeled half my closet to the girls before this outfit was unanimously voted as “hell yes,” and damn if I wasn’t anticipating Eric’s reaction when I open the door.

  Another five minutes pass and I decide I’ve ventured far enough into the realm of worry to call him, so I pick up my phone and dial. After four rings, I’m starting to panic a bit; Eric never lets me wait more than two rings before answering no matter what he’s doing. But then on the fifth ring, he picks up, and my heart drops.

  “Zoe…” He sounds broken like he’s about to cry.

  “What’s happened? Where are you?” I’ve already snatched my car keys and don’t even pause to pull on a coat before running toward the elevators, I’m not even sure I locked the door.

  “At Angel’s Mercy Hospital,” he whispers into the receiver.

  “I’m on my way.” I hope the call doesn’t disconnect when I go into the elevator down to the garage.

  “Okay. Thank you.” He still sounds shattered, but a hint of relief sneaks into his voice. “The doctor is coming out to talk to me, I have to go.”

  I let go of a breath I didn’t even notice I was holding. If the doctor is coming out to him, it means he’s not the one hurt.

  There are a few seconds of silence as I unlock my car and buckle myself in.

  “I love you, Zoe.”

  “I love you too, Eric.” I start the car and shift into drive. “I’m on my way, okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hear a muffled voice talking to him. “See you soon.”

  A million scenarios go through my head after we hang up, and I start driving to the hospital. Maybe something happened to Lenny or Tim, or maybe something happened to Bitsie. Maybe even something happened to Eric himself, and he didn’t want to tell me on the phone.

&
nbsp; The gods of traffic smile down at me, and it takes me less than twenty minutes to reach the hospital. I even find parking quickly and run inside, my eyes scanning the waiting room in a panic until I spot a shock of blacker than black hair, making my way hastily toward it.

  Eric’s sitting in one of those hospital waiting room chairs, his head hanging low in his hands, his elbows on his knees, his entire posture slumped and defeated like I’ve never seen before. He’s wearing dark blue dress pants and a bright gray dress shirt, a matching jacket and tie thrown on the seat next to him.

  “Eric.” I kneel in front of him and cup his chin with a gentle touch, lifting his face to mine, and my breath catches in my chest, sending ripples of pain through my body. He hasn’t cried, but his emerald green eyes are desperate, aching.

  He seems to wake up from a trance when our eyes finally meet, looking me over and smiling, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “You look amazing.” He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and I run my hands through his hair.

  “What happened?” His face scrunches up with pain, and he inhales a shaky breath.

  “My mom… She’s gone.” I force myself to blink back my confusion. The way he talked about his mother in the seven weeks we’ve been dating, I assumed she had died a while ago.

  “How?” I finally manage to ask.

  “She took too many pills with too much booze.” He shakes his head and throws himself back in the seat with an exasperated sigh. “I knew something was off. I knew it, but I just couldn’t go through all that shit. Not again. Not when I had you, and I was happy. God, Zoe, I just wanted to be happy for once in my life.”

  He’s shaking his head up at the ceiling in disparagement, so I do the only thing I can think of and sit in his lap, resting my head on his shoulder and throwing my arms around his neck. His arms circle my waist, and he pulls me closer as he buries his face in my hair.

  “I just kept telling myself I was imagining it. Looking for something bad to cling to because I couldn’t believe how good things were going for me. I let her down.” His voice is shaking, on the verge of breaking, and I know it would be that much worse if this happens here, at the hospital.