Zach nods overdramatically, his face furrowed with concentration.
I elbow him in the side. “This wasyouridea.”
“What?” he asks with an exaggerated shrug. “This is the face ofseriousZach Briggs.”
I roll my eyes. “Knock it off and pay attention.”
He grins, and his eyes light with pure glee. “You always have all of my attention, Finley.”
“As I should,” I quip, ignoring the swell of emotion his words bring on. Because I can’t help but think Zach means them. Literally.
He listens intently as I show him what constitutes a rinsed plate and how to load the dishwasher. Zach’s gaze lingers on me through the entire demonstration, its weight branding my skin. But I make it through, grateful to have something other than our feelings to focus on.
“All right, time to put your knowledge to the test.” I move to the side to give Zach a clear path to the sink. “Go ahead, show me what you got.”
Music continues to blast from a portable speaker as Zach works. Ten minutes later, I stop him after he stacks bowls on top of each other.
“They trap the water in, Finley, so they get a good rinse.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I sputter between laughs. “The water can’t get in if they’re too close like that.”
“Maybe I need to watch you again,” Zach says.
He grasps my hand, and a flutter of butterflies lets loose in my stomach. He pulls me toward him and spins me until I face the sink, but he doesn’t step away. Zach might be considered shortin hockey, but he towers over me. Our bodies press together, sending a shiver up my spine. We’re not skin-to-skin, but for the way my body reacts, he might as well be touching me beneath my clothes.
“What are you doing?” I murmur.
Zach smells the way he did the first night we met—spicy and musky and cold, like that aisle of men’s deodorant and cologne I walk down every time I visit the store.
He drops his head until it hovers over my left shoulder. “Shadowing you. It’s the way I learn best.”
“Yeah?” My voice comes out hoarse as ideas spring to mind. “Then stay close.”
Zach hums low as he inches even closer to me. My voice falters while I explain the importance of avoiding obstructions that prevent dishes from getting fully clean. His hands cup my elbows, and I think this must be it. This is the moment Zach Briggs makes his move.
I let my breath out in an audible rush.
One of Zach’s hands grazes mine, calloused skin tentatively making connection. When I don’t pull away, he threads our fingers. My entire body alights at this simple touch. I’ve never experienced it before, and I want to again, over and over. With him.
“Finley, I—” Zach starts to say, but his words cut off when the music ends abruptly.
Both of us whip around. Gemma stands on the other side of the counter beside Kennedy and two friends, Deandra and Brenna. I don’t know what Zach was about to say, but I can guarantee it’s nothing I want them to hear.
“Well, what do we have here?” Gemma drawls, tossing her purse over the backrest of a counter stool. Her eyes twinkle with mischief as a slow wide smile extends across her face.
“What does it look like?” I say, praying for my jackhammering heart to calm. The beat is in my ears, an insistentthump thump thump,continuing to remind me what would’ve happened if they hadn’t barged into the room. “I’m teaching Zach how to do dishes.”
A version of the truth works best.
Kennedy smirks. “Interesting. You never cared to learn when we lived together, Briggsy.”
Zach’s shoulders go rigid, but I’m not sure if it’s the reminder of his perceived ineptitude or the implication he’s chosen to learn from me. He responds like he doesn’t have a care in the world though. “The days of me not having any clue what to do are over. Besides, Finley’s more patient than you.”
“I bet she is,” Deandra mutters under her breath, her bright red lips curled in a smirk. I know her the least well of Gemma’s friends since she’s got some important job working for Kennedy’s dad. She intimidates me with that blunt haircut, severe eye makeup, and fierce stare.
Brenna—my boss at the café—tucks a strand of caramel blond hair behind her ear. “Why don’t we let them be?” she says softly, covertly winking at me. I’ve never liked her more than this moment.
Kennedy turns the speaker back on, and music flares to life. “We’ll be outside if you need us.”
