Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

27. Off-Key

27

Off-Key

They played a four-minute song, but it didn’t feel like forever. My heart thrummed with the beat. Once I got the hang of it, I sang the chorus with them off-key. Zack chuckled and shook his head at me. Surprisingly, the band stuck to their promise of a shortened set.

Lumberjack Lance fist-bumped Zack and left, but the drummer shook my hand before skipping up the stairs.

Zack tugged his earlobe and meandered over to me. “Are you heading out too or…?”

“I can stay.” It’d be weird if I left right away. Girlfriends would want some solo time with their man.

“Have fun you two,” the drummer jeered, following Lumberjack up the steps.

Zack flushed and waited until the door clicked closed behind them to speak. “So, did you get the footage you needed?”

Footage… Right, this was a content thing. I had recorded a few snippets of the band, mostly so I could do something besides smile and bob my head while they played.

I patted the spot next to me. “Want to see?”

“Sure.” He flopped down and flinched. “Your jacket just stabbed me.”

“Oh my gosh, you’re such a baby.” I wrangled my jacket off and shivered. “Happy?”

“I don’t want you to be cold,” he said.

“We’re in a basement in winter. Now, look at these.” I scooted closer to him and played the clips.

He laid his arm on the back of the couch, engulfing me in the scent of old spice and sweat. Heat radiated through his clothes and my shaking bones. Damn . No wonder he was fine sleeping down here in a subzero dungeon.

The camera panned Zack's body.

He snorted. “Are you objectifying me?”

I leaned away. “No. I got a shot of everybody.”

“Okay, where are their lower halves?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done a real music video.”

Theo’s attempts to get footage of hot girls dancing at parties didn’t count as gigs to me.

Zack smirked. “That's actually something a girlfriend might do.”

My heart raced, and my fingers danced across the screen. “So, should I post that clip? It’s not PDA, and you do look good in it.”

Not that he didn’t look good in general, but I knew the right angles to make anyone look extra fabulous. Although, then other people might start thirsting after him…

His thumb grazed my bare shoulder. “Post the part where you sang along.”

“What?” I laughed. “No. It’s so bad.”

“It’s cute.” He dragged the playback cursor to that scene.

Cute? More like cringe. My voice rang through the speakers, totally off-key. I wasn’t on camera, but I did sound happy. I sang the wrong lyrics with confidence while my free hand pumped to the beat.

On film, he grinned and paced, probably laughing his ass off at me, as would our audience. His blush was kind of cute, not my singing. Maybe that’s what he meant.

I frowned. “What would I caption this? ‘How does he put up with me?’”

“You don’t need to caption it anything. I think the moment speaks for itself.” His dark gaze skimmed my face instead of the screen.

God, why was he looking at me? Was publishing that clip part of some weird scheme to embarrass me?

“I’ll decide later.” I fought the warmth in my cheeks and cut up the footage for both the hot panning clip with a heart emoji and my off-kilter singing before shoving my phone away.

“So, is this where you normally bring your girlfriends? The dungeon?” I asked.

“It’s a basement,” he chided.

“Where did you hang out? The bed? This couch?” I cringed at the idea of this being the spot he lost his virginity with some pretty, popular girl from high school.

“I didn’t bring anyone down here except my friends,” he said. “Close friends.”

“No…benefits?” I leaned into his warm, solid body.

He shifted toward me but looked away. “I didn’t have a girlfriend until college.”

“How is that possible?”

He rubbed his red ears. “I don’t know. I was busy.”

Right. Quarterback. Always at practice. Still, he was grumpy and hot, or at the very least, buff. Girls must’ve thrown themselves in his path at some point. Maybe prom. I hadn’t gone, so I wasn’t sure of the particulars.

“Was your family happy when you were dating that college girl?” I asked.

He frowned and played with the knot of my half-up hair. “No. Maybe when we started, but she…wanted a quarterback, I guess.”

Did that girl dump him when he got injured? I laid a hand on his knee. “She’s an idiot.”

“Nah, I get where she was coming from. She wanted to be taken care of. Not take care of me.” He sighed.

So what if he wasn’t on a team? He still had a lot to offer somebody.

I huffed and nudged his chest. “Well, good riddance. You need a woman who can take care of herself. Not some leech.”

“It’s fine. I know I’m not what someone like that would need," he muttered.

“You’re kind. You’re strong. You're hard-working, and occasionally funny,” I declared.

He snorted, then smiled. “I work three jobs. That doesn’t scream ‘stable.’”

“So what? You’re a hustler. That's better than some deadbeat. Plus, you still make time for everybody. Your band, your family, friends, and fake girlfriends.” I play-punched his meaty arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We’re better off with people who can be on our level.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He dragged his fingers up and down my shoulder with the idle fascination I used to play with sequined pillows. His calloused fingertips caressed my silky skin. “Were all your boyfriends into aesthetics like Theo?” he asked.

My thighs tightened. Did clients count? “He…he was my only real boyfriend.”

“How is that possible?” he teased, quoting me.

“I was shy in school. College kind of got me out of my shell, same with sales. I talk to guys a lot, you know, at least for work.”

“I know.” He nodded.

No, he didn’t know. But I wasn’t ready for that conversation. “Theo was the first one who encouraged me to follow my dreams. He was chasing his too, and I think we got swept up in this fantasy. We stopped caring about each other’s feelings. To be honest, I’m not sure anybody will ever like more than a few parts of me,” I admitted, flexing my toes.

“You’ve got lots of good parts,” Zack said softly.

I raised my brows and eyed him. “Oh?”

“No, I didn’t mean…” He rubbed his far ear and laughed. “Although they are nice, I’m sure.”

“You’re sure?” I pushed his chest and grinned.

“You’re nice. In lots of ways.” His gaze dipped to my lips. “You deserve someone who loves all of you.”

Goosebumps pricked across my skin despite my insides roaring like a furnace.

Was Zack interested in me?

We drifted closer, the cold air thick with tension.

Was I into Zack?

The ceiling shook with thunderous footsteps. Would the universe fall apart if I made out with the quarterback?

I tightened my grip on his knee. “What was that?”

“My cousins.” He sat up and gave me a flat look. “You better put on your jacket.”