Something silly. Like a kind, blunt voice in the back of my head. I wiped away some unexpected tears. Those were from laughing, right?
Okay, maybe I missed Zack. He hadn’t texted me a good morning. But that was to be expected. I hadn’t responded to him last night, and we were no longer in our arrangement.
I stopped the recording.
At least I had a cute video and fresh sheets. It was still a new year. New me. New possibilities.
I supposed things were always changing, to some degree.
The next time I went to work, I braced myself for running into an ex. No eyeliner, no mascara. Nothing that could smudge with surprise waterworks. However, I did use some undereye concealer and lip stain for confidence.
I strutted through the warehouse with my head held high. Thankfully, I didn’t see my particular brand of broad-shouldered hunk moving inventory, so I approached one of the guys I’d seen rifling through the shoe bins during prior opening shifts and asked, “Hey, do you—”
“Zack’s in the back,” he said.
I inhaled sharply. Even hearing his name stung. Probably because he implied we were still together, which we weren’t. We hadn’t been, and never would be.
“I was going to ask if you had any Zeezy’s, size seven or up,” I said.
A warehouse employee who consistently combed the wares instead of just dropping them off and going to the next batch had to be a reseller or a collector.
He eyed a stack of boxes. “You mean in this shipment?”
I leaned away from it. “No. I don’t want to buy a pair, and they’re not for a customer. I just want to borrow them for a day or a lunch hour, even.”
“For what?” He frowned and glanced over my shoulder.
“They’re for a photoshoot type thing,” I said, trying to be nonchalant.
“A photoshoot?” Zack asked incredulously, his voice booming from behind me.
Fuck my life.
He probably thought I was doing it for my private channel.
The squeak of his dolly rolled up closer. I glanced over my shoulder and hugged myself. There he was: scruffy, strong, and sexy as ever.
Fuck the fucking quarterback.
“It’s not…it’s for a style video on my public channel,” I explained, my cheeks flaming. “Nothing weird, I promise.”
Nothing weirder than dropping sauce on my leg for New Year’s Eve, at least.
I smoothed my ponytail and tried to focus on the other warehouse guy. “I would wear them with socks for two minutes indoors, freshen them up with goodies from the shoe repair station, then give them back, good as new.”
“I don’t know, those are expensive shoes,” the guy hedged. “There would have to be conditions.”
“Totally fair.” I wouldn’t lend out my $300 hair dryer to a random coworker for an hour either.
The guy jerked his chin. “Would you vouch for her, Zack?”
My shoulders sagged. Well, there went my plans.
“I…would,” Zack said.
I whipped around and stared. He’d vouch for me? Even after our breakup and knowing what I did?
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he nodded. “I do.”
