He rose from where he crouched behind the door and filled his tray with the spa-like gray paint. A few wavy bits of hair had escaped the confines of his top knot and stuck to his sweaty brow. From up this close, he could see a few speckles that had embedded between the strands. It had been a while since he’d had a haircut or even a beard trim and he suddenly felt disheveled.
“Why are you asking me?” Todd drolled. “I’m not saying I will, merely curious.”
How much should he share with this guy? They weren’t exactly friends, though the last week of working side by side had been pleasant. Todd was likeable enough, but he was Lucy’s friend first. Then Jonathan’s and Frankie’s. And somehow, evenProfessor Benji’s.
Zac realized in that instant that he didn’t have anyone to confide in. No one. Jon was normally his sounding board, but he couldn’t unload his concerns and frustration on him. Not when they revolved around Off the Beaten. And not while the guy had twins coming so soon. The father-to-be was elbow-deep in stressors, and Zac couldn’t bear the thought of piling on one more thing.
“I’m trying to be better,” Zac responded.
“In what way?”
“Generally.”
Todd balanced his brush on the top of the ladder and climbed down. “And a haircut will help with your goal?”
“Yes? Not really, but maybe?”
“Zac, my friend. You’re being as cryptic as my friend, Tonya, when she refused to fess up to getting liposuction. But there’s no way that ass got that small in so short a time. Especially with her hotdog habit, and no, I don’t mean the X-rated kind—sorry. Off topic.” Todd took a swig from his water bottle and eyed Zac. “Care to fill me in on what’s going through that brain of yours?”
“That wouldn’t be wise.”
“Why not?” Todd’s eyes went wide. “Is it about someone we know?”
Zac said nothing, only stirred the can of paint more vigorously.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Todd drummed his fingers on his chin, deep in thought. “Is it about Frankie? Do you know something about her and Benjamin? Perhaps something in the proposal department?”
Zac scrunched up his face. “Like that guy would tell me anything. We aren’t exactly friendly. Not since the wedding when I . . .”
See? This was why Zac needed this new and improved version of himself to stick. He’d made a massive ass of himself at the wedding, and everyone was standing around waiting for him to revert to the same old dog.
I almost did, with Tabitha.
He startled when a hand settled on his shoulder. Todd's face morphed into concern or sympathy, or worse, pity. Zac didn’t want any of it.
He didn’t deserve it.
“Hey. You fucked up—”
“Thanks for that,” Zac grumbled, shrugging Todd’s fingers off, and went back to painting.
“No one lets me finish around here. What I was saying, was that you fucked up but it’s clear—to me, to Jonathan, to everyone—that you’ve been making some real changes. Working hard. Taming those urges to sow your wild oats in anything with a vagina.”
“Hey.” But he wasn’t far off.
“I don’t even live in this part of the state but I hear about you from our chatty Cathys.” Todd picked idly at speckles of paint on his fingernails. “Lucy and Frankie tell meeverything.”
“Which is exactly why I can’t tell you about what’s going on. Anything I say will circle back around to them and they’ll tell Jonathan.”
“Woah. I saidtheyblab everything tome, not that I reciprocate. I know when to keep my mouth shut.”
Zac took that in and let it simmer. Sharing the chaos of the last few days—running into an ex (theex), having to host her on numerous excursions, nearly burying his face between her legs earlier today—would be a load off. Keeping all that in proved overwhelming. “You’ll keep what I say to yourself?”
“You have my word.”
“How do I know that’s worth anything?”
Todd’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open in a shocked gasp. “You’re lucky I don’t smack you for that. What do you want me to fucking pinkie promise or something?” He held up three fingers to mimic a scout salute. “On my honor, I will not tell another living soul what you share with me tonight. Satisfied?”
