Pass me By (BFF Series Book 1)

by Kyra Fox

  “Tell me about Helen and Liam.” Eric helps me out of my coat, and I shiver at his closeness, at the feel of his knuckles brushing my shoulders through the fabric of my sweater.

  “They’re… Wow.” He smiles. “It’s weird, having a big family all of a sudden, after all these years when it was basically just Phil and me.”

  “You said you have an uncle?”

  “And two cousins, they’re ten and seven, really big on unicorns and sparkles.”

  I laugh at how adoringly he talks about them, how easily he seems to have found his place with them.

  “Are you going back there?” I want to ask if he’s leaving, moving to live next to his family, but I remind myself that it’s not my place to ask. I pushed him to confront his past, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

  “I’m flying back to California in three weeks.” He takes a deep breath. “And I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Eric…” Is this his atonement, bringing me into his family as a way of apologizing and showing he’s dealing so I’d take him back?

  “Please, just let me explain,” he pleads, and I nod. I came all this way, at the very least I owe myself to hear him out, know what I’m about to walk away from or toward.

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “I’m not asking you to come out to California just to prove something. I’m asking you because you deserve to meet the people whose life you changed so drastically and because they want to meet you and thank you.” His words sound sincere. “This isn’t some lame attempt to get you back just by showing you how lovey-dovey I suddenly am with my long-lost family.”

  “Lovey-dovey?” I can’t help but laugh.

  “Stop.” He smiles at me, slightly embarrassed.

  “Sorry, proceed.” I take a sip of my beer to calm myself down.

  “But I do want you back. I want to be worthy of your forgiveness. I’m done using my mother as an excuse to run away. People look at me and see a good man, you look at me and see a good man. It’s time I start acting like one.” Eric seems to have lost the last of his restraint and places his hand on mine, a gesture that feels so natural and comforting, and I realize how much I’ve missed his touch. “You deserve to be with a man who can face his demons and fight, not just for you but for himself.”

  “That’s good, Eric.” I smile and gently pull my hand away. “But you really hurt me. We moved too fast. You have so many secrets, and your walls are built up so high. I kept waiting for you to let me in, but every time I tried, you pushed me away. And I still waited patiently. I was willing to wait however long it took because you’re worth it. But I can’t go through all that again. Not without knowing you’re in it all the way this time, even if it takes you time to let me all the way in. I need to know that I’m not just waiting for you to leave me again.”

  “I know.” My words obviously pain him, but he doesn’t fight me, doesn’t try to convince me why I’m wrong, doesn’t belittle my feelings. “I won’t lie and say that all my scars are healed. They probably never will be completely healed. It’s going to be a long road, and I’ve only taken the first few steps.”

  He stares into my eyes, intently for a few seconds before taking my hand in his again.

  “I understand that it’s all too fresh for you to accept things going back to the way they were. I know you can’t trust me that it’s not all just pretty words, that I won’t freak out about something and go back to the way I was.” His eyes are raw with emotion. “But I’m not giving you up, not this easily. I’m done running.”

  “So, what do you suggest?” I try to hide how much his words are melting my resistance, how his fierce need to keep me in his life is weakening the memories of the pain he caused me.

  “I want to keep seeing you. As a friend.” He seems to feel as keen as I do on the idea of being just friends, but he’s right about me not being able to just go back to the way things were, not without proof he’s really devoted to moving forward and not just faking it to get me back. “We don’t have to spend time alone, even, we can go out with the gang, with Brian, with Bitsie, anything that makes you comfortable being around me.”

  “Okay,” I say, although slowly, processing and analyzing the pros and cons of the idea, trying to figure out if it makes sense.

  “It’s not a mathematical conundrum, Zo.” Eric smiles at me, this sweet and kind smile that tells me he can read me like an open book. “There isn’t an equation or formula that will give you an answer. How do you feel?”

  “I understand why you got angry.” The second I start talking all the emotions I’ve been sitting on for the last two weeks come bubbling up, boiling over. “I know it was a lot to handle, you were grieving your mom and you suddenly had to deal with finding the people you thought abandoned you, I get it.” I take a shuddery breath and continue. “I thought about calling you all the time, but I felt like you needed time to figure things out by yourself. Brian said you were beating yourself up about what happened, so I figured that you’d come back when you were ready. I’m not mad, Eric, but when you walked away like that, it really hurt.”

  “I know, and words could never express how much I regret hurting you like that.” The remorse is written all over his face.

  “The worst part is when you accused me of not really loving you. When I asked you to tell Philip…” I feel the tears streaking down my face, and my hand squeezes his as I let the hurt flow through me. “I would have handled everything you had to say, but you doubted the one thing that was supposed to be a solid fact in our relationship—my love for you. All I needed was for you to love me, everything else didn’t matter, and I wanted to be that person for you, the person whose love was the only thing you needed, but I couldn’t.”

  “You are.” Eric stands and pulls me into a tight hug. “But it’s more complicated than that, Zo. It was easy to be what you needed—someone who could see beyond your big brain and look at you like the beautiful, kind, and slightly crazy woman that you are.”

  “Just slightly?” I laugh into his shoulder, enjoying the familiar warmth of his body and the sun-kissed scent of his skin.

  “Well, I am still trying to eventually get you back.” I can hear the grin in his words, then his body tenses, his voice becomes serious again, and he lifts my face to his by my chin, looking into my eyes. “Zoe, you can’t fix me.”

  “You never needed fixing.” I slump back onto my barstool, resigned to the fact that the prolonged embrace was probably not a great idea.

  “That’s a lie.” A small smile plays on his lips as he sits back down. “But you gave me something better than a magic fix.” Those emerald greens are locked onto my face as Eric’s thumb wipes away the salty drops from my cheeks. “You gave me a reason to fight, to get out of the limbo I was living in. You made me realize I had a choice. Do you understand how big that is?”

  “Not really,” I admit, not wanting to belittle how significant this is for him by claiming to understand anything he went through.

  “Lenny called you the ace up my sleeve.” Eric laughs, and the fondness is clear in his voice. “He’s right, you know? I’ve spent my entire life thinking I could only play whatever hand I was dealt, and then you came along. I realize now the problem wasn’t my cards, but that I’ve been playing the same game for twenty-seven years without realizing I can play any game I want to. Hell, I can make up a game with new rules and play that!”

  I have to physically restrain myself from kissing him. As badly as I want to, afraid that throwing myself into a fast relationship with Eric again will only end with more heartache and pain.

  “I accept your terms,” I say instead, sipping on my beer. “Never us alone, no in-house visits, only friends.”

  “And California?” he asks.

  “I need to think about it.” It’s a polished truth. I want to go to California, I want to be by his side when he sees his family again. We just need to figure out what we are to each other before I commit to something so big.
/>   “Fair enough.” He seems pleased with the results of the evening.

  “Eric?” He looks at me questioningly over the rim of his pint. “You need to get your things out of my apartment.”

  That hits him hard. I can tell by the cringe that he physically felt the blow.

  “Yeah.” He nods, then quickly regains his composure. “I’ll ask Brian to swing by with me later this week when you’re not there.”

  “I’m not saying that to be cruel, but I won’t live in a state of in-between until we figure us out.” I don’t want him to think that I’m punishing him in some way.

  “You don’t have a cruel bone in your body, Zoe Lawrence.” He smiles at me with mixed sadness and affection. “I’ll make sure it’s all gone by Sunday; I’ll leave my key with B.”

  “I appreciate it.” I pull out a couple of bills and toss them on the bar. “I’ll see you around?”

  “Yeah.” He nods with a half-smile. “See you around, Zo.”

  It takes all the strength I have in me not to turn around and look at him as I walk out of the bar. I know if I do, I won’t be able to stop from running back to him.

  For all of his faults, Eric Mackenzie still holds my heart, and I can only pray he won’t crush it again.

  MAC

  Zoe showed up.

  I wasn’t sure she would until the moment she stepped out of the taxi at the airport terminal, and as crushed as I’d have been there wouldn’t be anyone to blame but myself.

  Not for lack of trying, though. We had managed to meet up a good number of times, sometimes on campus for a quick coffee, sometimes with Brian at The Velvet Keg, even at Bitsie’s. And despite the absence of our Thursday indoor ritual, I religiously waited for Zoe under her apartment every Friday the past three weeks for the group outing to Sticks, always making sure someone was with me so we wouldn’t be alone, as per our agreement.

  I also made a point of texting her every day and calling her every Thursday. We couldn’t be alone in the same room, but she never said we couldn’t have private conversations. Our calls were short and slightly awkward as if we had lost our natural rhythm and with it the easiness we always had with each other. But our texting flowed and was full of promise that we could still be us, maybe because it was easier to control what was said in texts. We both almost let “I love you” slip out during our calls. Either of us saying it would have caused Zoe to retreat into herself from fear of moving too fast again, but we both still felt it and strongly.

  When we were in the same room, the pull was undeniable. The more time we spent sharing the same space, the more we drifted toward each other, and after a week we were close enough for fingers to brush. A few days later, our shoulders bumped, and not long after that, our thighs started to collide. We both craved the contact, but we were both afraid to initiate anything more than accidental.

  I was hoping that would change tonight.

  “I’m so happy you’re here.” I can’t stop myself from hugging her, inhaling her familiar flowery scent.

  “Hi.” I can hear the smile in her voice as she lets herself melt into my embrace for a few heavenly seconds before pulling back and gesturing toward the sliding doors leading to the outbound domestic flights area. “Shall we?”

  I gesture for her to go ahead of me, and she laughs.

  “Always such a gentleman.” She starts walking, and I fall into stride with her.

  “Surprising for a grease monkey, huh?” Zoe shoots me a look, the kind that makes it clear she doesn’t like when I belittle myself. “So, Philip is super excited that you’re coming.”

  “Yeah.” She laughs and looks at me with an amused glare. “Does it bother you that he has a very obvious crush on me?”

  “No.” I chuckle. “It’s cute. Cliché, but cute.”

  “He’s a mess.” Her face turns serious. “I’m really worried about him, Eric.”

  “Me too.” I haven’t been able to get through to him no matter how much I’ve tried. It’s like he’s turned from this happy-go-lucky charmer into a brooding zombie. The only time he seems to be able to shake it off is when we’re with our cousins. I guess their innocent obliviousness to the whole fucked up situation makes it easy for him to relax and not think about how his father tore our family apart.

  “He needs to talk to someone; he thinks everybody sees Elijah Wright when they look at him.”

  Zoe’s right, I’ve been trying to get Phil to talk to the Maclaren’s therapist, but he’s too caught up in the guilt about the circumstance of his birth and how it affected so many people’s lives for the worse. How it affected my life for the worse. I tried to tell him nothing about him being born is a bad thing, especially not as far as I’m concerned, but he can’t be convinced.

  The rest of the trip to our flight is spent in silence. We’re both caught up in a million thoughts running through our heads, about Philip, about Zoe meeting my family, about what this means for us. I think we both feel the tension, the overbearing weight of the knowledge that whatever happens today will determine whether we can fix our relationship or if it’s beyond repair.

  Zoe showing up was the first step toward getting back together, the rest is up to me.

  The flight is pretty uneventful. Zoe and I manage some more small talk, but it’s been so long since we’ve spent time alone together, combined with unanswered physical tension in spades and paired with the foreboding feeling of make it or break it that we just can’t seem to find our rhythm again. I’m starting to fear we never will.

  At least until Zoe falls asleep. Her head rests on my shoulder, and she immediately snuggles in, a contented sigh escaping her lips that tug up at the corners. I wrap my arm around her, lifting the armrest between us so she can cuddle closer and I can’t stop myself from kissing the top of her head, reveling at how everything about her and me together still feels perfect, still feels right.

  I don’t dare move the entire four hours left on the flight since Zoe fell asleep. I’m afraid it might wake her up, and even when my arm goes completely numb, I still don’t budge. The ding of the seatbelt sign and the captain’s announcement that we’re preparing for landing eventually have Zoe stirring and opening her eyes.

  Her first reaction when she finds herself nestled against my chest is to smile and nuzzle it affectionately, but then reality sets back in, and she straightens in her chair, a blush creeping up her neck, and I have to avert my eyes, so she doesn’t see the heat in them, though we both know it’s there.

  We don’t talk after that, just take our carry-ons and go to the car rental counter in silence, unspoken words hanging heavy between us.

  “I baked cookies for your grandparents.” Zoe finally breaks the silence when we’re seated in the rental car.

  “That’s nice.” I smile at her; glad she’s talking to me again. “You really didn’t need to bring anything, though.”

  “I know. But I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.” Zoe pulls out an airtight plastic container and shows it to me. “Feel like doing quality control?”

  “Sure.” She takes out a cookie and hands it to me. Peanut butter chocolate chip. I smile, take a bite and groan, fighting to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head and staying focused on the road.

  “That bad?” Zoe laughs and shoves the container back into her bag.

  “Awful. I’m going to have to eat the rest to save you the embarrassment of serving those to my family.”

  “The sacrifices you make for love.” Zoe laughs but then realizes what she just said, and it looks like she’s about to freak out.

  “Zoe...” I try to reach over to her hand, but she just shakes her head and presses her entire body against her door, not looking at me. The rest of the drive is made in loud silence. Thankfully it’s only thirty minutes to the Macalister’s, so our torture doesn’t stretch out long.

  “Zoe!” Philip is out the door before we even get our suitcases extracted from the trunk, hugging Zoe tightly and lifting her off the ground, causing her to
giggle.

  “Hey, Phil.” She hugs him back just as tight, and I can see his features relax and brighten.

  “Uncle Eric!” A ten-year-old auburn-haired girl comes bolting out of the house straight toward me, closely followed by a seven-year-old with hair the color of coal.

  “There are my two favorite princesses.” I kneel down and open my arms, catching them as they crash into me.

  “Princess Roni, Princess Julie, I’d like you to meet Zoe.” My heart skips a beat when I see Zoe’s gaze on me, filled with so much love and affection that I almost forget I haven’t won her back yet.

  “You’re so pretty.” Julie, my seven-year-old cousin, is looking at Zoe in awe.

  “She really is,” I agree, smiling at Zoe, who blushes a bright pink, and I have to avert my eyes, so they won’t travel to her chest.

  “Thank you, your highness.” Zoe does a little curtsy and Julie giggles with glee.

  “Are you a princess, too?” Roni narrows her eyes, inspecting Zoe carefully.

  “She’s a goddess.” Philip winks at Zoe, whose blush just deepens, and I make a mental note to kick his ass later.

  “Come on, let’s go inside.” I grab our trollies and let Zoe fall into step with Philip, who seems to be walking lighter.

  “We’re here!” I call out when we get into the house, and I can hear clamor from the kitchen.

  “Oh, you came!” Helen has tears streaming down her face as she rushes to embrace Zoe, who never flinches or seems awkward, she just hugs Helen back. “Thank you, thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Zoe’s eyes are watery, and I think she just now realized how many lives she’s affected, how many hearts she’s touched, just by loving me.

  “You did everything.” Liam wraps his arms around Helen and Zoe, his eyes also glazed over.

  “Hey, can I join in on the group hug?” My uncle Cory walks in with his wife, Steph, trying to lighten the mood. Phil is every little bit like Cory, in looks and demeanor. I just wish he’d see past his unfortunate genetic affiliation to Elijah Wright and realize the kind of man he was born to be rather than look at himself in the mirror and see his sad excuse for a father. And I hope Zoe being here will help him take the first step in that direction.