It had taken everything in me not to throw his lunch away that day.
“They’re filming some commercial next door today.” By next door, Deepa meant the MMA building beside the one we worked in. “The camera crew got here while you were on your lunch break,” she explained in a whisper. I didn’t need to look at her face to know she was trying not to move her lips.
You know, so we wouldn’t get in trouble. Because that’s what life around here had come to. Having your boss toss papers at you and being hesitant to talk because you didn’t want to get griped at.
I just barely managed to hold back rubbing at my eyebrow and sighing.
“Bianca? Did you hear me?”
“Sorry. What did you say? They’re filming a commercial?”
“Yeah, in the building next door. I saw the camera crew and heard Gunner on the phone. Maybe it’s not a commercial for TV, but it might be for some online promo. I thought you’d want to go scope it out, but you-know-who is over there.”
“That’s neat.” I wondered what kind of equipment they were using. Maybe I could find a reason to sneak over there real quick and peek at it. Not like I needed any new equipment since I’d just bought a new 4k camera not too long ago, but it would be interesting to see what they were using. Something out of this world expensive, I’d bet.
“You okay?”
I made sure not to look at her as I said, “Yeah. I just don’t want to call these people. If they wanted to join the gym again, they would. They’re just going to be annoyed, you know?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her nod, and I was pretty sure she peeked at me too before saying quietly, “Bianca, you don’t need to stay here if you’re just doing it for me. I know you don’t need this job.”
I glanced at her and made a face. She had said the same thing to me last week at my apartment. “Don’t start again—”
The sound of the front door opening had me standing up straight, ready to scan someone’s keychain to give me an excuse not to start going through the stupid list.
But just as soon as the smile came onto my face, it fell back off.
And it stayed off as the four men approached the desk I was working behind. The one on the left was a bulky, buff man with a tiny mohawk. The guy in the middle towered over the one beside him, in height and size. He had a buzzcut and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen as he laughed at whatever the big, buff guy had just said. But it wasn’t either of the two fit men who wiped the smile off my face. Or the older man with salt-and-pepper hair and in a suit that screamed expensive.
It was the man on the right who had me staring blankly as the group stopped in front of my desk.
That dark blond hair.
Those eyes that could be described as baby blue.
A face that was so lean, it highlighted the high cheekbones, defined jaw, and a chin that had only gotten cuter over time.
A mouth that had an incredible smile.
A smile that was currently taking over all the rest of those features that made up a face that was striking.
Unforgettable.
But mostly, it was familiar.
And I couldn’t freaking help but go up to my tiptoes, lean forward, and say a name I had just spoken out loud not even a week ago when he’d left my apartment. “Zac?”
Fucking Zac, in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, and most of all, a surprised—but happy—expression on his face. “Darlin’?”
From her spot down the counter, Deepa gasped, and I was pretty sure she whispered, “Is that…?”
But I couldn’t process the fact I knew she was a football fan—and that I hadn’t told her about Zac—because I was too busy being surprised he was here.
I waved at him and then smiled at the men with him. Leaning forward against the counter, I tipped my chin up. What were the chances? “What are you doing here?” I asked.
He’d left my apartment a week ago in kind of a trance. Distracted. Maybe shocked? He’d finished his food, offered to help me wash the dishes—I’d said no—and then left after giving me a quick hug, saying he needed to make some plans and calls. I’d made sure to tell him again to take care of himself and to wish him good luck with the workout he had scheduled in Miami. I mean, I’d been surprised and elated for him. Of course, I figured he’d feel the same way since we’d literally just been talking about it, about his chances and his future.
I had gone to bed that night thinking that I was glad he had come over and shown me those pieces of him that I had hoped were still there. It had been easy to resign myself to the idea I’d see him again in the future. Maybe for Boogie’s wedding. Not just days later.
“What are you doin’ here?” he asked with a big smile on his beaming face.
“I work here.”
Those light brown eyebrows went up, his pleased and surprised expression getting even brighter as his gaze strayed to the counter in front of me, lingering over the logo painted onto the front of it. He had to be reading the MAIO HOUSE spelled out across it. “You sure do work here, huh? I forgot all about the name ’til now.”
What was he still doing here in Houston? Had he had his workout in Miami already?
Before I could wonder over it too much, my old friend dipped his chin and extended his arms out at his sides in a universal gesture. “You don’t wanna be seen with me in public?”
Umm… not really?
But how mean would it be for me to not welcome a hug from him?
I thought about Gunner for a second. But… fuck it.
Heading around the counter, I walked right up to the man with the familiar face and wrapped my arms around his neck while he hugged me over my shoulders, all warm and freshly showered from the smell of him. He hugged me tight right back, basically shoving me into the expanse of a chest that felt as hard as I’d imagined it would.
He smelled pretty nice too.
But I still stepped away quickly and asked again, “What are you doing here?”
“We’re doin’ a video for a charity.” That gave me no news on what had happened with the Miami Sharks, and that was fine.
“Zac,” the older man who had walked in with him sighed in exasperation. I peeked at him in his tailored gray suit, white shirt, and light pink tie. He wasn’t even looking at Zac, but instead at the phone he was busy tapping away on.
Zac made a face at me that I couldn’t decipher before turning us both around to face the other men. He winked at me. “Bianca, this is Dwight and this is Kevin,” he said, referring to the two bigger guys. “And this is Trevor, my manager. You can call him Trev. Y’all, this is Bianca.” His attention came back to me at the same time as his hand landed on the top of my head in a way that reminded me of how he’d done it a ton while I’d been growing up. “We’ve known each other twenty somethin’ years.”
Twenty-four, but okay, no need to be technical.
I was pretty sure Deepa made a little gasp, but I didn’t look at her. I was going to have some explaining to do after this. I’d get there.
I held my hand out to the biggest guy because he was the only one smiling at me. “Nice to meet you.”
“How’s it goin’?” the man replied, taking my hand in one that was three times the size of my own. And that was saying something, because I wasn’t a huge person, but I had pretty big hands.