“But you work at abar. Meeting someone should be easy. Especially with your build.” I gestured to his bulky biceps.
He knitted his brows at me and flexed. “I’m sure I could get a date.”
I tugged on my romper shorts. Did he mean he didn’t want any or that he could probably get a date with me? Something in my chest fluttered with the same haphazard chaos of a homework folder spilling its contents. I shrugged and rubbed my knee. “Maybe. If you learned to chew quietly.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I’m sure weirder things have happened on New Year’s Eve.” Like the quarterback offering the quiet girl a ride home. My phone buzzed with a notification. Theo texted me. The preview said “Babe…” I swiped it away and sighed. It was 11:49. He’d find someone else to kiss. Maybe Bigfoot had snuck back in. Twistingmy bag closed, I scooted to the edge of my seat. We weren’t too far from the apartment. Or midnight.
“Hey, Zack?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
I swallowed around a ball in my throat that tasted vaguely of tequila and fries. “My name wasn’t on the list, was it?”
He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel and tilted his head. “Technically, no. But I added it.”
“Why?” Was it because I was pretty or he didn’t want me to freeze?
“Because.” He shrugged, scratching his ear. “I don’t know. We go back.”
I grinned. So, he did remember me.
Forget Theo. Forget Bigfoot. Forget Anon73.
At midnight, I was going to kiss the quarterback.
10
Midnight
Zack struck me as an Alpha type: used to calling the shots on the field and at the door. He had a list. But he put me on it. I was in. The ‘it’ girl. Cool enough to take a break with.
Who knew throwing lemons was the secret to grabbing his attention?
He parked in a guest spot and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you to the door, just in case.”
“I don’t need an escort.” I chuckled. If he wanted more time together, all he had to do was ask. I grabbed my paper bag, flashed him a daring smile, and stumbled out of the car.
“Hey, watch your step.” He trotted over and lightly touched my back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I waved him off as flames climbed my cheeks. I did this all the time: walked in heels and exited cars with grace. Maybe not after a few drinks, but the fries should’ve absorbed something. “Do you want to wash your hands?”
He retracted his palm from my back. “What?”
“The fast food.” I held up the bag and shook it. “Those flimsy napkins don’t do jack to stop you from getting greasy fingerprints all over your car, right? You said you maintain it.” Plus, I’d rejected his initial offer to walk me up, so this was a second in.
He tilted his head and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Um, sure. I could wash up, if that’s–”
“You can come in. This way.” I strut through to the lobby. We’d only just re-met. I didn’t want him to think he could swoop in five seconds after I broke up with someone. But midnight was only a few minutes away, and I did want a kiss. It only made sense for us to try it.
We slipped into the elevator. I braced my lower back against the metallic walls while Zack stood at my side. He still held himself like a bouncer, his hips straight as he crossed his arms and eyed the door. For all I knew, the clipboard was still jammed in the back of his jeans somewhere.
The floor numbers ticked by, and my stomach swooped with each one. Shouldn’t we be flirting? Teasing? Most guys I knew would play with the keys around my neck to pull me closer in a situation like this.
The doors slid open.
Zack frowned. “This is your floor, isn’t it?”
