Page 34 of About That One Night
Zoe: We’re NOT an item.
MaxMc: I know, but it doesn’t matter. She’ll try to get us together.
Zoe: You’ll be shooting yourself in the foot.
MaxMc: Not if I take a long term assignment and disappear for months.
Zoe: I don’t like you.
MaxMc: You think I’m happy with you? This was our weekend.
Zoe: Sorry. I’ll tell Lily that . . . I can’t tell her anything without mentioning you. Ugh, you’re right. The weekend is ruined.
MaxMc: By the way, all the utilities are included. You don’t have to set up anything.
Zoe: This is the perfect place. Tell your friend that I’m grateful.
MaxMc: I’ll make sure to tell him.
Zoe: And you’re sure that he won’t kick me out before my place is ready next year, right?
MaxMc: I’m sure.
Zoe: Thank you, Max. You’re the best.
MaxMc: You still owe me a BJ (make it two). Miss me, babe.
Chapter Twenty
Zoe
Moving day is here.
I hoist the final cardboard box from the moving truck, my arms trembling under its weight. The dull ache of hours spent packing and hauling possessions from my parents’ house and the storage place I rented to my new fourth-floor walk-up feels like it’s settled into my bones. I’m utterly exhausted—mentally and physically. A bead of sweattrickles down my temple as I shuffle toward the building entrance, the box obstructing my view.
“Zoe, watch out for that—” Lily’s warning comes a second too late.
My toe catches on an uneven paving stone, and I stumble forward. The box flies from my grasp, spilling its contents across the sidewalk. A sea of law books and case files spreads before me.
“Oh, sweetie,” Lily coos, rushing to my side. She sets down the vase of silk flowers she’d been carrying and starts gathering the scattered papers. Her brow furrows as she glances at me, concern etched in her eyes.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, more to myself than to her. “Just peachy.”
Ethan emerges from the building, his t-shirt damp with sweat. He takes in the scene and lets out a low whistle. “Looks like someone’s having a case of the Mondays . . . on a Saturday. I told you, we should’ve called Max and Caleb to help us. This might be small, but the load would’ve been lighter for all of us.”
I shoot him a glare, but can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Very funny, Ethan. How about making yourself useful instead of trying a new career, standup comedian isn’t your call,” I say not even acknowledging the fact that he wanted Max here. I don’t think so.
Thankfully, this weekend I don’t have to put up with game night or . . . whatever they come up with. I’m moving and Max is in San Diego. It’s not like I’m keeping tabs on him, I just happened to hear that lastweekend and I have a great memory when it’s convenient.
Ethan grins and starts scooping up books. “Hey, I just hauled your couch up four flights of stairs. I think I’ve earned the right to crack a few jokes.”
As we gather the last of the scattered items, I straighten up and survey my new building. The brick structure looms before me, its weathered façade a huge contrast to the sleek high-rise I shared with Tom but closer to the brownstone I hope to get back in a few months.
Inside the bare studio, I absorb the dingy walls and scuffed wood floors. Meager furnishings—a bed, small table, and now the couch—occupy the space. But even though this is nothing like what I’m used to, I see potential. Do I regret selling my furniture when I moved out of Tom’s place? Not really.
“Earth to Zoe.” Lily waves a hand in front of my face. “Where’d you go just now?”
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “Nowhere. Just . . . taking it all in.”
