Page 66 of Words We Didn't Say

“This is thoughtful of you.” I fought to keep the emotion from my voice. “Thank you, Zach.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, dropping his chin so I wouldn’t see the blush forming around his smile. “I also wanted to see if you’re free on Friday night.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “Friday?” Where was he going with this? Should I keep him guessing?

“Maybe we could have dinner together,” he said. “Andie mentioned a new restaurant you liked the other day. The French place. I can book a table.”

My heart skipped a beat. The two of us sharing French food over candlelight was a dream, but I couldn’t look too eager. “I think I might have something on with Sam…”

“O-Oh.”

“I mean, I’d have to check…”

“Yeah.” Zach forced a smile. “Sure.” His head snapped around at the sound of footsteps. “Speak of the lucky devil,” he muttered.

What?

I turned. Sam swaggered up the laneway, his sweatpants and T-shirt stretched taut over bulky muscle and his cropped hair glistening with sweat. He’d lost the winking grin now his black eye was only a smudge, but he was still all smiles.

What the hell is he doing here? Had he messaged…?

I quickly fumbled my phone out of my bag.

Oh no.

I slapped my palm against my forehead. My phone recorded a connected call—two minutes and twenty-three seconds of me rehearsing a breakup speech for a man I was technically maybe not even really seeing.

Zach stepped in front of me. “I hope you meant what you said last night.” His chest lifted, his nostrils flared on a big breath in, and he nodded like he’d made some kind of decision.

“Hey, crew!” Sam waved.

“Mate, mind if we step over there?” Zach said, jerking his head away from the salon. “We need to have a word.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah. Sure, man,” he said. “If this is about last night…”

Head down, he lumbered after the lawyer, which was…weird. Maybe Zach’s words were Bro Code for something like, “We have a problem here.”

The two men huddled a few steps from the salon, face to face, tense words passing between them. Sam stood a head taller, but Zach squared his shoulders, braced his hands on the hips of his expensive trousers, and lifted his chin. Powerful. Completely in control. Absolutely no fear.

“What on earth…” I muttered to myself.

Sam’s head cocked to the side. A confused look darted in my direction but transformed into a smile. As the conversation went on, Zach’s eyes slid to me. He ignored Sam throwing his head back, laughing, and he didn’t acknowledge the friendly slap onhis shoulder or the wave goodbye. Zach’s eyes never shifted away from me.

I nibbled nervously on my bottom lip.

I was in big trouble.

Zach beckoned me with a short, sharp wave. I walked over to him, my legs wobbling almost as much as my smile.

“So.” He drawled the sound so casually, but his eyes were razor thin. “Forget to mention something?”

“Um.” I played with the Velcro catch of my cute new lunch bag. “No?”

“Sam said he was here to explain the photos of him dancing with some girls. Ring any bells?”

“Not even a ding-a-ling-ling.”

“He thought maybe that’s why you broke up with him. I suppose you forgot to mention that part, huh?”

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